Ozma and the Little Wizard

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This is Mike Voilo of Lexicon Valley.

And I'm Bob Garfield.

Are you one of those people who sometimes uses words?

Do you communicate or acquire information with, you know,

language?

Hey, us too.

So join us on Lexicon Valley to true over the history culture

and many mysteries of English.

Plus some ice cracks.

Find us on one of those apps where people listen to podcasts.

Osmo and the little wizard.

Once upon a time, they lived in the beautiful Emerald City,

which lies in the center of the fairy land of Oz.

A lovely girl called Princess Osmo,

who was ruler of all that country.

And among those who served this girly ruler

and lived in a cozy sweet room in her splendid palace

was a little withered old man known as the Wizard of Oz.

This little wizard could do a good many queer things in magic.

But he was a kind man with merry twinkling eyes

and a sweet smile.

So instead of fearing him because of his magic,

everybody loved him.

Now Osmo was very anxious that all her people

who inhabited the pleasant land of Oz

should be happy and contented.

And therefore she decided one morning

to make a journey to all parts of the country

that she might discover if anything was a miss

or anyone discontented,

or if there was any wrong that ought to be righted.

She asked the little wizard to accompany her

and he was glad to go.

Shall I take my bag of magic tools with me?

He asked?

Of course, said Osmo.

We may need a lot of magic before we return

for we are going into strange corners of the land

where we may meet with unknown creatures

and dangerous adventures.

So the wizard took his bag of magic tools

and the two left the emerald city

and wandered over the country for many days.

At last reaching a place far up in the mountains

which neither of them had ever visited before.

Stopping one morning at a cottage

built beside the rocky path which led into a pretty valley

beyond Osmo asked a man.

Are you happy?

Have you any complaints to make of your lot?

And the man replied,

we are happy except for three mischievous imps

that live in Yonder Valley,

and often come here to annoy us.

If your highness would only drive away those imps,

I and my family would be very happy

and very grateful to you.

Who are these bad imps?

Inquire the girl ruler.

One is named Olight and one Oodent

and one Oertinent

and they have no respect for anyone or anything.

If strangers pass through the valley,

the imps cheer at them

and they chorid faces and call names.

And often they push travelers out of the path

or throw stones at them.

Whenever impolite or impudent or impertinent

comes here to bother us,

I and my family run into the house

and lock all the doors and windows

and we dare not venture out again

till the imps have gone away.

Princess Osmo would grieve to hear this report

and the little wizard shook his head gravely and said

the naughty imps deserve to be punished.

They told the good man they would see

what could be done to protect him

and at once entered the valley

to seek the dwelling place

of the three mischievous creatures.

Before long,

they came upon three caves hollowed from the rocks

and in front of each cave squatted a queer little dwarf.

Osmo and the wizard paused to examine them

and found them well-shaped, strong and lively.

They had big round ears, flat noses

and wide, grinning mouths

and their gent black hair came to points on top of their heads,

much resembling horns.

Their clothing fitted snugly to their bodies

and limbs and the imps were so small in size

that at first Osmo did not consider them at all dangerous.

But one of them suddenly reached out a hand

and caught the dress of the princess,

jerking it so sharply that she nearly fell down

and a moment later another imp pushed the little wizard

so hard that he bumped against Osmo

and both unexpectedly sat down upon the ground.

At this, the imps laughed boisterously

and began running around in a circle

and kicking dust upon the royal princess

who cried in a sharp voice,

wizard, do your duty!

The wizard promptly obeyed

without rising from the ground he opened his bag,

got the tools he'd required and muttered, a magic spell.

Instantly, the three imps became three bushes

of a thorny stubby kind with their roots in the ground.

As the bushes were at first motionless,

perhaps through surprise of their sudden transformation,

the wizard and the princess found time to rise

from the ground and brush the dust off their pretty clothes.

Then Osmo turned to the bushes and said,

The unhappy lot you now endure, my poor imps,

is due entirely to your naughty actions.

You can no longer annoy harmless travelers

and you must remain ugly bushes covered with sharp thorns

until you repent of your bad ways

and promise to be good imps.

They can't help being good now, your highness,

said the wizard who was very much pleased with his work

and the safest plan will be to allow them

always to remain bushes.

But something must have been wrong with the wizard's magic

or the creatures had magic of their own

for no sooner were the words spoken

than the bushes began to move.

At first they only waved their branches

at the girl and the little man, but pretty soon.

They began to slide over the ground,

their roots dragging through the earth.

And one pushed itself against the wizard

and pricked him so sharply with its thorns

that he cried out, ohch, and started to run away.

Osmo followed, for the other bushes were trying

to stick their thorns into her legs.

And one actually got so near her

that it tore a great rent in her beautiful dress.

The girl Princess could run, however,

and she followed the fleeing wizard

until he tumbled head first over a log

and rolled upon the ground.

Then she sprang behind a tree and shouted,

quick, transform them into something else.

The wizard heard, but he was much confused by his fall,

grabbing from his bag the first magical tool he could find,

he transformed the bushes into three white pigs.

That astonished the imps.

In the shape of pigs, fat, roly-poly, and cute,

they scampered off little distance and sat down

to think about their new condition.

Osmo drew a long breath and coming from behind the tree,

she said,

that is much better with,

for such pigs as these must be quite harmless,

no one need now fear the mischievous imps.

I intended to transform into mice.

Replyed the wizard,

but he by excitement I worked the wrong magic.

However, unless the horrid creatures behave themselves hereafter,

they are liable to be killed and eaten.

They would make good chops, sausages, all roasts.

But the imps were now angry

and had no intention of behaving.

As Osmo and the little wizard turned to resume their journey,

the three pigs rushed forward,

dashing between their legs and tripping them up,

so that both lost their balance and toppled over,

clinging to one another.

As the wizard tried to get up,

he was tripped again and fell across the back of the third pig,

which carried him on a run, far down the valley,

until he dumped the little man in the river.

Osmo had been sprawled upon the ground,

but found she wasn't hurt.

So she picked herself up and ran to the assistance of the wizard,

reaching him,

just as he was crawling out of the river,

gasping for breath and dripping with water.

The girl could not help laughing at his woeful appearance,

but he had no sooner wiped the wet from his eyes

than one of the impish pigs tripped him again

and sent him into the river for a second bath.

The pigs tried to trip Osmo to,

but she ran around a stump

and so managed to keep out of their way.

So the wizard scrambled out of the water again

and picked up a sharp stick to defend himself.

Then he mumbled a magic mutter,

which instantly dried his clothes,

after which he hurried to assist Osmo.

The pigs were afraid of the sharp stick

and kept away from it.

This won't do, said the princess.

We have accomplished nothing.

For the pig-imps would annoy travel as much as the relims,

transform them into something else, Wiz.

The wizard took time to think.

Then he transformed the white pigs into three blue doves.

Doves, said he,

are the most harmless thing in the world.

But scarcely had he spoken when the doves flew at them

and tried to pick out their eyes.

When they endeavoured to shield their eyes

with their hands, two of the doves bit the wizard's fingers

and another caught the pretty pink ear of the princess

in its bill and gave it such a cruel tweak

that she cried out in pain and threw her skirt over her head.

These birds are worse than pigs, Wiz.

She called to her companion.

Nothing is harmless that is animated by input and anger

or impertinent mischief.

You must transform the imps into something that is not alive.

The wizard was pretty busy just then driving off the birds,

but he managed to open his bag of magic and find a charm

which instantly transformed the doves into three buttons.

As they fell to the ground, he picked them up and smiled

with satisfaction.

The tin button was imp-alite.

The brass button was imp-udent

and the lead button was imp-urtenant.

These buttons, the wizard placed in a little box

which he put in his jacket pocket.

Now, said he,

the imps can't noise travellers

for we shall carry them back with us to the emerald city.

But we dare not use the buttons.

Said Osma, smiling once more

now that the danger was over.

Why not?

Ask the wizard.

I intended to suit them upon my coats and watch them carefully.

The spirits of the imps are stealing the buttons

and after a time they will repent and be sorry for their notiness.

Then they will decide to be very good in the future.

When they feel that way, the tin button will turn to silver

and the brass to gold,

while the lead button will become aluminum.

I shall then restore them to their proper forms,

changing their names to pretty names

instead of the ugly ones they used to bear.

Thereafter, the three imps will become good citizens

of the land of ours and I think you will find

they will prove faithful subjects

of our beloved princess, Osma.

Ah, that is magic were worthwhile.

Exclaimed Osma,

well pleased.

There is no doubt, my friend,

but that you are a very clever wizard.

End of Osma and the little wizard.

My L Frank Baum.

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