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Stories ,<? QZ
By L. Frank Baura Sl DOROTHY passed several very happy weeks in the Land of Oz as the guest of the royal Ozma. who delighted to please and interest the little Kansas girl. Many new acquaintances were formed and many old ones renewed, and wher ??er she went Dorothy found herself among friends. One day, however, as she sat In Oima'a private room, she noticed hang ing upon the wall a picture which con atantly changed in appearance, at one time showing a meadow and at another time a forest, a lake or a village. ^"How curious!" she exclaimed, after watching the shifting scenes for a few moments. "Yes," said Ozma, "that is really a wonderful invention in magic. If I wish to see any part of the world or any per son living, I need only express the wish and it is shown in the picture." * * * ? "May I use it?" asked Dorothy, eagerly. "Of course, my dear." "Then I'd like to see the old Kansas farm and Aunt Em," said the girL Instantly the well remembered farm house appeared in the picture and Aunt Em could be seen quite plainly. She was engaged in washing dishea by the kitchen window and seemed quite well and contented. The hired men and the teams were in the harvest fields behind the house, and the corn and wheat teemed to the child to be in prime con dition. On the side porch Dorothy's pet dog, Toto, was lying fast asleep in the gun, and to her surprise old Speckles was running around with a brood of twelve new chickens trailing after her. "Everything seems all right at home," said Dorothy, with a sigh of relief. m "Now, I wonder what Uncle Henry is doing." The scene in the picture at once shifted to Australia, where, in a pleas ant room in Sydney, Uncle Henry was seated in an easy chair, solemnly smok ing his briar pipe. He looked sad and lonely, and his hair was now quite white and his hands and face thin and wasted. "Oh!" cried Dorothy, in an anxious voice, "I'm sure Uncle Henry isn't get ting any better, and it's because he is worried about me. Ozma, dear, I "must go to him at once!" "How can you?" asked Ozma. "I don't know," replied Dorothy; "but let us go to Gllnda the Good. I'm sure she will help me, and advise me how to rat to Uncle Henry." "Ozma readily agreed to this plan and caused the Sawhorse to be harnessed to a pretty green and pink phaeton, and the two girls rode away to visit the fa mous sorceress. Glinda received them graciously and listened to Dorothy's story with atten tion. "I have the magic belt, you know," ?aid the little girl. "If I buckled it around my waist and commanded it to take me to Uncle Henry, wouldn't it do ltr* "I think so," replied Glinda, with a ?mile. ? "And then," continued Dorothy, "if I ever wanted to come back here again, the belt would bring me." "In that you are wrong," said the sorceress. "The belt has magical powers only white it is In some fairy country, such as the Land of Oz or the Land of Ev. Indeed, my little friend were you to wear it and wish yourself in Aus tralia, with your uncle, the wish would doubtless be fulfilled, because it was made in fairyland. Hut you would not find the magic belt around you when you arrived at your destination." "What would become of it?" asked the girl. 'It would be lost, as were your silver shoes when you visited Oz before, and no one would ever see it again. It wema too ' bad to destroy the use of the magic belt in that way, doesn't it?" * * ? * "Then," said Dorothy, after a mo ment's thought, "I will give the magio belt to Ozma, for she' can use it In her own country. And she can wish me transported to L'ncle Henry without losing the belt." "That is a wise plan," replied Glinda. So they rode back to the Emerald C3ty, and on the way it was arranged that every Saturday morning Ozma would look at Dorothy In her magio picture, wherever the little girl might chance to be. And, if she saw Dorothy make a certain signal then Ozma would know that the little Kansas girl wanted to re-visit the Land of Oz, and by means of .the Nome King's magic belt Would wish that she might instantly re turn. This having been agreed upon Dor othy bade, good-by to all her friends. Tlktok wanted to go to Australia, too; bat Dorothy knew that the machine man would never do for a servant In a civilized country, and the chances were that his machinery wouldn't work at all. , Bo she left him In Ozma's care. * * * * Bflllna, on the contrary, preferred the Laad of Os to any other country, and M(liaail to accompany Dorothy. *?f ** ?. aad. aats, that I Pad tier# |p?ttMMit4?vor?4 In th?w?rW)da? DOROTHY'S MAGIC BELT v ^^ "THAT 19 A WISE PLAN," REPLIED GUSTDA. clared the yellow hen. "and there are plenty of them. So here I shall end my days; and I must say, Dorothy, my dear, that you are very foolish to go back Into that stupid, humdrum world again." "Uncle Henry needs me," said Dor othy, simply; and every one except Bllllna thought it was right that she Aould go. All Dorothy's friends of the Land ot Oz?both old and new?gathered in a group in front of the palace to bid her a sorrowful good-by and to wish her long life and happiness. After much handshaking, Dorothy kissed Ozma once more, and then handed her the Nome King's belt, saying: "Now, dear Princess, when I wave my handkerchief, pleas* wl?h me with Uncle Henry. I'm aw*fly sorry to leave you?and the Scarecrow?and the Tin Woodman?and the Cowardly Lion?and Tlktok?and?and everybody?but I do want my Uncle Henry! So good-by, all of you." Then the little girl stood on one of the big emeralds which decorated the courtyard, and after looking once again at each of her friends, she waved her handkerchief. The next thing Dorothy knew, she was standing beside her Uncle Henry. Uncle Henry rubbed his eyes a moment, as If he could scarcely believe that she was really there, then drew her to him In happiness and kissed her. Of course, he had to hear all about how she got to him, and how It had happened that she was not drowned, after all, and an about her wonderful friends. But the next thing they did was to plan a trip home. It did not take Uncle Henry long to Ret well and for them to pack up and take a steamer for California. ? * * * "How good It seems to be In one's own country again!" cried Dorothy, many days later, when their snip drew Into port "Shall we start at once for Kansas, or do you suppose I could stop off In San Francisco and see a little girl I know who lives there T I could visit her mother a few days, couldn't IT" "Yes, If you like," replied Uncle Henry, "and I will go direct to Hug sons Siding for a visit with my friend, Bill Hugson; you can join me there and we'll go on together to Kansas." This Is exactly what happened. Uncle Henry went on to Hagsons Siding and left Dorothy In the care of her little friend's mother. Dorothy had great fun telling these dear friends all about her wonderful experiences with the people of Ox, and the visit passed all too quickly. Before she knew It, she had left them and was on the train, headed for Hugsons Siding. The train from Frisco was very lato. It should have arrived at Hugsons Sid ing at midnight, but It was already 5 o'clock and the gray dawn was break ing in the east when the little train slowly -rumbled up to the open shed that served for the station house. As It came to a stop the conductor called out In a loud voice: ? "Hugsons Sidlngl" At once a little girt arose from her Sketches from Life By Temple A Hew. Who lN&verGp on Strike. seat and walked to the door of the car, carrying a wicker suit cane In one hand and a round bird case covcred up with newspapers in the other, while a parasol was tucked under her arm. The con ductor helped her off the car and then the engineer started hli train again, so that it puffed and groaned and moved slowly away up the track. The reason he was so late was because all through the night there were times when the N solid earth shook and trembled under 7* him, and the engineer was afraid that J at any moment the rails might spread apart and an accident happen to his passengers. So he moved the cars slowly ^ and with caution. ?? . * * * * The little girl stood still to watch ? until the train had disappeared around a curve; then Bhe turned to see whera . she was. The shed at Hugson Siding was bare save for an old wooden bench, and did ^ not look very Inviting. As she peered through tho soft gray light not a house j of any sort was visible near the station, i nor was any person In sight; but after ^ a whilo the child discovered a horse and buggy standing near a group of trees a ^ short distance away. She walked to ward It and found the horse tied to a tree and standing motionless, with its ^ head hanging down almost to the ground. It was a big horse, tall and ^ bony, with long logs and large knees and feet Sho could count his ribs ; easily where they showed through the skin of his body, and his head was long . and seemed altogether too big for him, as if It did not flt His tall was short ( and scraggly, and his harness had been broken In many places and fastened to- ' nether again with cordB and bits of wire. The buggy Beemod almost new, for It had a shiny top and side cur tains. Getting around In front, so that she could look Inside, the girl - saw a boy curled up on tho seat fast asleep. (Copjrricht, 1919, by U Frank Baum for the Qco. Matthew Adam? Serried Didn't Care at All. , Representative lonqworth Is becoming like Abe Lincoln In that he tells stories to Illustrate points that he desires to make. At a recent publlo function "Honey Fit*" Fitzgerald of Boston sang a song or two. Including his old favor ite. "Sweet Adeline." There was much applause, and then Longworth rose up and said: "I used to have an old friend, a captain on the Ohio river, out In Cin cinnati, of whom I was quite fo-d. I went away from Cincinnati and the old captain dropped out of my life for about twenty years. Then one day, wandering back to my old haunts, I encountered the captain. "When I approached him he was sit ting on the dock smoking his pipe. My arrival did not seem to excite him In the least. Ho spoke to me In a friendly enough manner, but that was all he did except to continue smoking his pipe. Finally I said to him: " 'Captain, you don't Beem .to be overly glad to see mie.' "Tho captain cogitated for a mo ment, took his pipo but of his mouth, gazed* down tho river and subsequent ly replied: " 'I ain't sorry to boo you and I ain't glad to see you. 1 jos' don't give a hang!' . "And that," I,ongworth continued, "is jus! how 1 feel about Fitzgerald singii'ig another song." Not by His Light. mOHODY evor charged Representative Young of North Pakota With not being a thorough-going, rip-snorting, hide-bound republican. Ho just nat urally can't see any good on earth in a democrat, and whenever he gets up to make a political speech tho things ho says about democrats are simply awful. , During tho last campaign, while Young wus campaigning In a country district, ho started to address a meet ing In tho Bchoolhouse one night where tho only light was a lantern owned by a prominent democratic farmer. Young didn't know this, so ho started in to lambast the demo crats right and loft. The owner of the lantern stood the abuse Just as long as ho could and Anally he walk ed up to the platform, lifted his lan torn off the table and started out the door. * "I'll be gosh domed If any man ean attack the democratic party by the light of my lantern," he said as he faded' into the darkness. Young continued hie apeeeh with out the aid of a light, and white he thinks that hie mein(* was well re ceived, It sometimes ocean to him ithat possibly -his (wtvm were ul? HtrHr) wasted. , m- - > '