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"Jack's all right, and works
fine!" he said to himself, panting with the unusual exertion. But just
then he discovered the man's left arm had fallen off in the journey so
he went
back to find it, and afterward, by whittling a new and stouter pin for
the
shoulder-joint, he repaired the injury so successfully that the arm was
stronger than before. Tip also noticed that Jack's pumpkin head had
twisted
around until it faced his back; but this was easily remedied. When, at
last,
the man was set up facing the turn in the path where old Mombi was to
appear,
he looked natural enough to be a fair imitation of a Gillikin farmer, —
and
unnatural enough to startle anyone that came on him unawares. As it was yet too early in the day to
expect the old woman to return home, Tip went down into the valley
below the
farm-house and began to gather nuts from the trees that grew there. However, old Mombi returned earlier than
usual. She had met a crooked wizard who resided in a lonely cave in the
mountains, and had traded several important secrets of magic with him.
Having
in this way secured three new recipes, four magical powders and a
selection of
herbs of wonderful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast as she
could, in
order to test her new sorceries. So intent was Mombi on the treasures she
had gained that when she turned the bend in the road and caught a
glimpse of
the man, she merely nodded and said: "Good evening, sir." But, a moment after, noting that the
person did not move or reply, she cast a shrewd glance into his face
and
discovered his pumpkin head elaborately carved by Tip's jack-knife. "Heh!" ejaculated Mombi, giving
a sort of grunt; "that rascally boy has been playing tricks again! Very
good! ve—ry good! I'll beat him black- and-blue for trying to scare me
in this
fashion!" Angrily she raised her stick to smash in
the grinning pumpkin head of the dummy; but a sudden thought made her
pause,
the uplifted stick left motionless in the air. "Why, here is a good chance to try
my new powder!" said she, eagerly. "And then I can tell whether that
crooked wizard has fairly traded secrets, or whether he has fooled me
as
wickedly as I fooled him." So she set down her basket and began
fumbling in it for one of the precious powders she had obtained. While Mombi was thus occupied Tip
strolled back, with his pockets full of nuts, and discovered the old
woman
standing beside his man and apparently not the least bit frightened by
it. At first he was generally disappointed;
but the next moment he became curious to know what Mombi was going to
do. So he
hid behind a hedge, where he could see without being seen, and prepared
to
watch. After some search the woman drew from her
basket an old pepper-box, upon the faded label of which the wizard had
written
with a lead-pencil: "Powder of Life." "Ah — here it is!" she cried,
joyfully. "And now let us see if it is potent. The stingy wizard didn't
give me much of it, but I guess there's enough for two or three doses."
Tip was much surprised when he overheard
this speech. Then he saw old Mombi raise her arm and sprinkle the
powder from
the box over the pumpkin head of his man Jack. She did this in the same
way one
would pepper a baked potato, and the powder sifted down from Jack's
head and
scattered over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple trousers Tip
had
dressed him in, and a portion even fell upon the patched and worn
shoes. Then, putting the pepper-box back into
the basket, Mombi lifted her left hand, with its little finger pointed
upward,
and said: "Weaugh!" Then she lifted her right hand, with the
thumb pointed upward, and said: "Teaugh!" Then she lifted both hands, with all the
fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried: "Peaugh!" Jack Pumpkinhead stepped back a pace, at
this, and said in a reproachful voice: "Don't yell like that! Do you think
I'm deaf?" Old Mombi danced around him, frantic with
delight. "He lives!" she screamed:
"He lives! he lives!" Then she threw her stick into the air and
caught it as it came down; and she hugged herself with both arms, and
tried to
do a step of a jig; and all the time she repeated, rapturously: "He lives! — he lives! — he
lives!" "Old Mombi
danced around him." At first he was so frightened and
horrified that he wanted to run away, but his legs trembled and shook
so badly
that he couldn't. Then it struck him as a very funny thing for Jack to
come to
life, especially as the expression on his pumpkin face was so droll and
comical
it excited laughter on the instant. So, recovering from his first fear,
Tip
began to laugh; and the merry peals reached old Mombi's ears and made
her hobble
quickly to the hedge, where she seized Tip's collar and dragged him
back to
where she had left her basket and the pumpkinheaded man. "You naughty, sneaking, wicked
boy!" she exclaimed, furiously: "I'll teach you to spy out my secrets
and to make fun of me!" "I wasn't making fun of you,"
protested Tip. "I was laughing at old Pumpkinhead! Look at him! Isn't
he a
picture, though?" "I hope you are not reflecting on my
personal appearance," said Jack; and it was so funny to hear his grave
voice, while his face continued to wear its jolly smile, that Tip again
burst
into a peal of laughter. Even Mombi was not without a curious
interest in the man her magic had brought to life; for, after staring
at him
intently, she presently asked: "What do you know?" "Well, that is hard to tell,"
replied Jack. "For although I feel that I know a tremendous lot, I am
not
yet aware how much there is in the world to find out about. It will
take me a
little time to discover whether I am very wise or very foolish." "To be sure," said Mombi,
thoughtfully. "But what are you going to do with
him, now he is alive?" asked Tip, wondering. "I must think it over,"
answered Mombi. "But we must get home at once, for it is growing dark.
Help the Pumpkinhead to walk." "Never mind me," said Jack;
"I can walk as well as you can. Haven't I got legs and feet, and aren't
they jointed?" "Are they?" asked the woman,
turning to Tip. "Of course they are; I made 'em
myself," returned the boy, with pride. Old Mombi
puts Jack in the stable "I've got to attend to you,
first," she said, nodding her head at Tip. Hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for
he knew Mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to
do any
evil thing. They entered the house. It was a round,
dome-shaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses in the Land of
Oz. Mombi bade the boy light a candle, while
she put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg. Tip
obeyed
quickly, for he was afraid of her. After the candle had been lighted Mombi
ordered him to build a fire in the hearth, and while Tip was thus
engaged the
old woman ate her supper. When the flames began to crackle the boy came
to her
and asked a share of the bread and cheese; but Mombi refused him. "I'm hungry!" said Tip, in a
sulky tone. "You won't be hungry long,"
replied Mombi, with a grim look. The boy didn't like this speech, for it
sounded like a threat; but he happened to remember he had nuts in his
pocket,
so he cracked some of those and ate them while the woman rose, shook
the crumbs
from her apron, and hung above the fire a small black kettle. Then she measured out equal parts of milk
and vinegar and poured them into the kettle. Next she produced several
packets
of herbs and powders and began adding a portion of each to the contents
of the
kettle. Occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a
yellow
paper the recipe of the mess she was concocting. As Tip watched her his uneasiness
increased. "What is that for?" he asked. "For you," returned Mombi,
briefly. Tip wriggled around upon his stool and
stared awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble. Then he
would
glance at the stern and wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were
any
place but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by
the
candle upon the wall were enough to give one the horrors. So an hour
passed
away, during which the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the
pot and
the hissing of the flames. Finally, Tip spoke again. "Have I got to drink that
stuff?" he asked, nodding toward the pot. "Yes," said Mombi. "What'll it do to me?" asked
Tip. "If it's properly made,"
replied Mombi, "it will change or transform you into a marble
statue." Tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration
from his forehead with his sleeve. "I don't want to be a marble
statue!" he protested. "That doesn't matter I want you to
be one," said the old woman, looking at him severely. "What use'll I be then?" asked
Tip. "There won't be any one to work for you." "I'll make the Pumpkinhead work for
me," said Mombi. Again Tip groaned. "Why don't you change me into a
goat, or a chicken?" he asked, anxiously. "You can't do anything with
a marble statue." "Oh, yes, I can," returned
Mombi. "I'm going to plant a flower garden, next Spring, and I'll put
you
in the middle of it, for an ornament. I wonder I haven't thought of
that
before; you've been a bother to me for years." At this terrible speech Tip felt the
beads of perspiration starting all over his body, but he sat still and
shivered
and looked anxiously at the kettle. "Perhaps it won't work," he muttered,
in a voice that sounded weak and discouraged. "Oh, I think it will," answered
Mombi, cheerfully. "I seldom make a mistake." Again there was a period of silence a
silence so long and gloomy that when Mombi finally lifted the kettle
from the
fire it was close to midnight. "You cannot drink it until it has
become quite cold," announced the old witch for in spite of the law she
had acknowledged practising witchcraft. "We must both go to bed now,
and
at daybreak I will call you and at once complete your transformation
into a
marble statue." “I don’t want to be a marble statue.” The boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire.
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