The Royal Book of Oz
"Are there any words to that song?"
"Yes, illustrious and Supreme Sir!"
Two spoons went down a Por-ce-Lane,
To meet a China saucer,
A 'talking China in a way
To break a white man's jaw, Sir!
sang Happy, and finished by standing gravely on his head.
"Your Majesty used to be very fond of this song," spluttered Happy. (It is difficult to speak while upside down, and if you don't think so, try it!)
"Ah!" said the Scarecrow, beginning to feel more cheerful, "Tell me something about myself and my family, Tappy Oko."
"Happy Toko, if it pleases your Supreme Amiability," corrected the little silver man, somersaulting to a standstill beside the Scarecrow.
"It does and it doesn't," murmured the Scarecrow. "There is something about you that reminds me of a pudding, and you tapped the drum, didn't you? I believe I shall call you Tappy Oko, if you don't mind!"
The Scarecrow seated himself on a silver bench and motioned for the Imperial Punster to sit down beside him. Tappy Oko sat down fearfully, first making sure that he was not observed.
"Saving your Imperial Presence, this is not permitted," said Tappy uneasily.
"Never mind about my Imperial Presence," chuckled the Scarecrow. "Tell me about my Imperial Past."
"Ah!" said Tappy Oko, rolling up his eyes, "You were one of the most magnificent and magnanimous of monarchs."
"Was I?" asked the Scarecrow in a pleased voice.
"You distributed rice among the poor, and advice among the rich, and fought many glorious battles," continued the little man. "I composed a little song about you. Perhaps you would like to hear it?"
The Scarecrow nodded, and Tappy, throwing back his head, chanted with a will:
Chang Wang Woe did draw the bow—
And twist the queues of a thousand foe!
"In Oz," murmured the Scarecrow reflectively as Tappy finished, "I twisted the necks of a flock of wild crows—that was before I had my excellent brains, too. Oh, I'm a fighting man, there's no doubt about it. But tell me, Tappy, where did I meet my wife?
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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