CHAPTER 7
The Winding Stairway

It was twilight in the wizard’s garden. All the lanterns burned low and the birds twittered drowsily in the tree tops. Grampa and Tatters sat wearily upon a golden bench—for after a whole day’s march they were no nearer the Emerald City than before. Indeed, there seemed no way out of the enchanted garden. They had lunched satisfactorily on the fruit of a bread and butter bush, and Grampa’s knapsack was full of nicely spread slices, but for all that each one of them felt tired and downhearted.

Urtha, on the contrary, was as fresh and merry as in the morning and, seated under a willow tree, was weaving a daisy chain for Bill.

She is certainly a fairy, mused Grampa and absently pulling a blossom from a near-by bush he popped it into his mouth. We’ll take her back to Ragbad, my boy, and won’t she liven up the old castle! I tell you, now— Suddenly Grampa stopped speaking and clapped his hand to his belt. His eyes grew rounder and rounder and Tatters, turning to see why he did not finish his sentence, gave a little scream of fright.

Help! called the Prince of Ragbad in an agonized voice. Help! Help! Urtha was beside him in an instant, while Bill circled wildly overhead.

He’s growing, breathed the little flower maid softly.

Yes, groaned Tatters distractedly, he’s growing a chimney! And Tatters was quite right. Not only was the old soldier growing a chimney, but a bay window as well. The chimney had knocked off his cap and grown brick by brick as the horrified Prince looked on. The bay window, of fancy wood-work and glass, jutted out at least three feet beyond Grampa’s waist line. (The old soldier had always been proud of his slim figure.)

Give me my pipe, panted Grampa in a choked voice. He had no idea what was happening, but felt too terribly dreadful for words. Tatters sank on one knee, snatched the pipe from its place in his game leg and lit it with trembling fingers. Then it was that he caught sight of the sign on the bush beside Grampa. House plants, said the sign distinctly.

Oh! wailed the Prince, suddenly remembering that Grampa had eaten one of the blossoms, you’ve eaten a house plant and there’s a chimney sticking out of your head.

There is! roared Grampa, puffing away at his pipe in great agitation. Well, that’s what comes of this pesky magic. A chim-nee! Well, I’ll try to bear it like a soldier, he finished grimly. A perfect cloud of smoke rose from the chimney at these valiant words. Too overcome for speech, Tatters covered his face.

Don’t you care! cried Urtha, flinging her arms ’round Grampa’s neck. It’s a sweet little chimney, and so becoming!

The wind is blowing North, crowed Bill, disconsolately following the direction of the smoke as it curled up Grampa’s chimney. If I see this wizard I’ll fall on his head. I’ll give him a peck in the eye, five pecks, but say! Bill paused in his circling and swooped down upon the old soldier. How about the medicine? Grampa and Tatters had forgotten all about the wizard’s green bottle, but at Bill’s words the old soldier drew it quickly from his pocket.

I don’t believe there’s any cure for chimneys, puffed Grampa, running his finger anxiously down the list. He was so nervous that his hands shook. To tell the truth he expected to grow a flight of steps or a veranda any minute.

Here, let me look, begged Tatters, snatching the bottle from Grampa. But though there was everything on the green label from ear ache to lumbago, no mention was made of chimneys or bay windows at all.

But it says cure for everything, insisted Bill, perching stubbornly on Grampa’s shoulder.

This is worse than a battle! moaned Grampa, rolling up his eyes. I’m poisoned, that’s what I am.

Poisoned! cried Bill triumphantly. Then find the cure for poison. Hurriedly Tatters consulted the label. For poison of any nature, two drops on the head, directed the bottle. So while Urtha and Bill watched nervously, Tatters uncorked the bottle and let two drops of the magic liquid fall down Grampa’s chimney. There was a slight sizzle. Tatters rubbed his eyes and Bill gave a crow of delight. The chimney had melted and the bay window was gone and the gallant old soldier quite himself again. Urtha was so happy that she danced all the way round the golden bench and Grampa jumped up and ran to look at himself in a little pond.