The Emerald City of Oz

Dorothy loved her Aunt Em and Uncle Henry very much. Back on their Kansas farm, things had gone badly. A storm, a debt, and dry fields had left them tired and worried. Dorothy wished and wished she could help. In the Emerald City of Oz, her friend Princess Ozma watched in her Magic Picture and saw their trouble. Ozma was kind. "No one should be sad when they can be safe and happy," she said. So, with a touch of the Magic Belt, she brought Aunt Em and Uncle Henry all the way to Oz.

The two grown-ups blinked at the glittering green city, the sparkling streets, and the friendly people who bowed to them. They felt shy about the grand palace and the lovely gardens, but Dorothy hugged them tight. "You’ll like it here," she said. "Everyone is good and cheerful."

Ozma welcomed them and gave them a cozy house near the palace with soft beds, bright windows, and a kitchen that cooked almost by itself. Aunt Em’s hands stopped shaking. Uncle Henry’s brow smoothed. For the first time in a long while, they weren’t afraid of tomorrow.

Soon Aunt Em and Uncle Henry met Dorothy’s unusual friends: the Scarecrow, stuffed with fresh straw and full of ideas; the Tin Woodman, polished bright and gentle of heart; the Cowardly Lion, who tried to be brave; and the Hungry Tiger, who tried to be good. The Wizard of Oz lived in the city, too. He had learned true magic from Glinda the Good, and he could do clever tricks, like making his nine tiny piglets dance on a silver tray. Everyone laughed when they saw the little pigs line up like a marching band.

"Now that you’re here, we’ll tour Oz," said Ozma. She called for her Red Wagon, and the tireless Sawhorse trotted up, ready to pull. Dorothy, Ozma, the Wizard, the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and her Kansas family climbed aboard, and off they went along emerald roads and through jeweled gates.

They visited the Tin Woodman’s shining tin castle in the Winkie Country, where even the trees had tin leaves that chimed softly in the breeze. The Tin Woodman gave Aunt Em a tin flower that would never fade. They stopped at Jack Pumpkinhead’s farm, where Jack watered his pumpkin head and worried it might spoil. Aunt Em showed him how to dry a fresh pumpkin properly, and Jack was so grateful he promised her a whole patch.

They came to a village of Cuttenclips, where neat little people made of paper welcomed them with papery bows—so long as no one was careless with sharp things. Then they found the Fuddles of Fuddlecumjig, a community of people like living jigsaw puzzles. When someone sneezed, a person’s pieces would tumble apart! Dorothy, giggling, helped fit a Fuddle lady back together, piece by piece, until she smiled and offered them tea.

In the valley of Utensia, spoons marched, forks fenced, and ladles stood guard. The King of Spoons clinked when he bowed. Not far beyond was Bunbury, a town of bread and buns. The bun-people were soft and proud, and they did not like it one bit if travelers tried to nibble their citizens. Dorothy promised they would buy their food elsewhere.

Next came Bunnybury, a walled city of talking rabbits dressed in royal robes, with a king who nibbled carrots between important words. Aunt Em laughed to see a footman rabbit in a tiny powdered wig, and the Bunny King waved his scepter (it was really a polished stick) as the visitors passed.

The road wound on to the land of the Rigmaroles, where people explained everything from start to finish and back again until your ears tangled; and then to the country of Flutterbudgets, where everyone worried so much that even a cheerful hello could make them wring their hands. Dorothy listened kindly and soothed the worriers. "Perhaps it won’t be so bad," she said, and for a moment they believed her.

While Dorothy and her family traveled, far underground the Nome King, Roquat the Red, beat his metal throne with his iron heel and grumbled. He hated that Ozma owned the Magic Belt he had once worn, and he feared Oz because it was so happy. "I will conquer the Emerald City!" he roared.

His chief general, cunning old Guph, slipped away to find allies. He returned with the Whimsies, who had huge heads and wore masks to look even scarier; with the Growleywogs, strong and fierce; and with the dreadful Phanfasms, who could trick minds with tricks and terrors. Together they picked up shovels and claws and began to dig a tunnel beneath the Deadly Desert, planning to burst up inside Oz and take it by surprise.

But Glinda the Good owned a Great Book of Records that wrote everything that happened in the world as it happened. She read about the plot and hurried to Ozma. "They come by tunnel," she warned. Ozma would not allow harm to her people. "We must stop them without cruelty," she said. So Glinda and the Wizard prepared quiet, clever defenses, and Ozma uncovered a special fountain in the heart of the Emerald City.

One bright morning, just as Dorothy’s wagon returned through the green gates, a roar rose from the earth. Up burst the Nomes and their allies, dusty from digging, hot and eager. They poured into the city, shaking spears and shouting threats. The people of Oz did not scream. They did not fight. The Wizard filled the air with harmless dazzles—sparkles that confused the invaders’ eyes and made the roads seem to wind in circles. The Sawhorse raced in tidy loops so fast that whole armies turned the wrong way.

At last the thirsty invaders reached the square where a fountain splashed and shone. "Drink," Ozma said softly. The Fountain of Oblivion glittered in the sunlight. One by one, the Nomes, the Whimsies, the Growleywogs, and even the sly Phanfasms bent down to gulp the cool water. As soon as they drank, their angry plans slipped out of their minds like a dream at dawn. They looked around, blinking, puzzled to find themselves in a strange green city with no idea why they were there.

Ozma smiled kindly and used the Magic Belt. In a blink, she sent each person safely home: Whimsies to their island, Growleywogs to their mountains, Phanfasms to their misty land, and the Nomes deep under the earth. Even the Nome King, no longer remembering his hatred, went back to his cavern full of jewels and scratched his head, wondering what he had meant to do.

When the streets were calm again, Aunt Em held Dorothy’s hand. "I don’t understand all this magic," she said, "but I’m thankful for good friends and a safe home." Uncle Henry nodded, looking at the bright fields beyond the gates.

Ozma thought for a long time. "We have been found by enemies more than once," she said. "To keep Oz safe, I shall hide our land from the outside world." With the Magic Belt, she cast a gentle spell so that no one from beyond the Deadly Desert could find Oz any longer. Roads turned travelers away. Storms could not carry houses over the sands. Oz would be a secret, happy country.

Dorothy kissed Aunt Em’s cheek. "We can stay," she whispered. "No more dust storms. No more debts. Just friends, and work we like, and picnics in the palace garden."

And so they did. Aunt Em tended flowers instead of worries. Uncle Henry helped the Emerald City gardeners make the lawns the greenest in the world. The Scarecrow told clever jokes. The Tin Woodman polished his heart until it shone. The Wizard taught his piglets a new dance. And Dorothy skipped down the emerald streets, glad to live where kindness won and troubles were solved with thoughtfulness and cheer.

The Emerald City gleamed in the sun, and all of Oz lived happily, safely, and openly kind—though hidden from the world that lay beyond the deadly sands. And if you could have peeped in, you would have seen Aunt Em and Uncle Henry smiling at last.