Chapter 1
The Exploding Birthday Cake
"The cake, you chattering Chittimong! Where is the cake? Stirem, Friem, Hashem, where is the cake?" cried Eejabo, chief footman in the palace of Pumperdink, bouncing into the royal pantry.
The Three cooks, too astonished for speech, and with staring eyes, pointed to the center table. The great gorgeous birthday cake was gone, though not two seconds before it had been placed on the table by Hashem himself.
"It was my m-m-asterpiece," sobbed Hashem, tearing off his cap and throwing his apron over his head.
"Help! Robbers! Thieves!" cried Friem, running to the window.
Here was a howdedo. The trumpets blowing for the celebration to begin and the best part of the celebration was gone!
"We'll all be dipped for this!" wailed Eejabo, flinging open the second best china closet so violently that three silver cups and a pewter mug tumbled out. Just then there was a scream from Hashem, who had removed the apron from his head. "Look!" he shrieked "There it is!"
Back to the table rushed the other three, Stirem and Friem rubbing their eyes and Eejabo his head where the cups had bumped him severely. Upon the table stood the royal cake, as pink and perfect as ever.
"It was there all the time, mince my eyebrows!" spluttered Hashem in an injured voice. "Called me a Chittimong, did you?" Grasping a big wooden spoon he ran angrily at Eejabo.
"Was it gone or wasn't it?" cried Eejabo, appealing to the others and hastily catching up a bread knife to defend himself. Instantly there arose a babble.
"It was!"
"It wasn't!"
"Was!" Rap, bang, clatter. In a minute they were in a furious argument, not only with words but with spoons, forks and bowls. And dear knows what would have become of the cake had not a bell rung loudly and the second footman poked his head through the door.
"The cake! Where is the cake?" he wheezed importantly.
So Eejabo, dodging three cups and a salt cellar, seized the great silver platter and dashed into the great banquet hall. One pink coat tail was missing and his wig was somewhat elevated over the left ear from the lump raised by the pewter mug, but he summoned what dignity he could and joined the grand procession of footmen who were bearing gold and silver dishes filled with goodies for the birthday feast of Prince Pompadore of Pumperdink.
The royal guests were already assembled and just as Eejabo entered the pages blew a shrill blast upon their silver trumpets and the Prime Pumper stepped forward to announce their Majesties.
"Oyes! Oyez!" shouted the Prime Pumper, pounding on the floor with his silver staff, while the guests politely inclined their heads just as if they had not heard the same announcement dozens of times before:
"Oyez! Oyez!"
"Pompus the Proud
And Pozy Pink,
King and Queen
Of Pumperdink --
Way for the King
And clear the floor
Way for our good
Prince Pompadore.
Way for the Elegant
Elephant-- Way
For the King and
The Queen and the
Prince, I say!"
So everybody wayed, which is to say they bowed, and down the center of the room swept Pompus, very fat and gorgeous in his purple robes and jeweled crown, ermine cloak, and Prince Pompadore very straight and handsome! In fact, they looked exactly as a good old-fashioned royal family should.
But Kabumpo, who swayed along grandly after the Prince -- few royal families could boast of so royal and elegant an elephant! He was huge and gray. On his head he wore jeweled bands and a jeweled court robe billowed out majestically as he walked. His little eyes twinkled merrily and his ears flapped so sociably, that just to look at him put one in a good humor. Kabumpo was the only elephant in Pumperdink, or in any Kingdom near Pumperdink, so no wonder he was a prime favorite at Court. He had been given to the King at Pompa's christening by a friendly stranger and since then had enjoyed every luxury and advantage. He was always addressed as Sir by all of the palace servants.
He lends an air of elegance to our Court," the King was fond of saying, and the Elegant Elephant he surely had become. Now an Elegant Elephant at Court might seem strange in a regular up-to-date country, but Pumperdink is not at all regular nor up to date. It is a cozy, old-fashioned Kingdom 'way up in the northern part of the Gilliken country of Oz; old-fashioned enough to wear knee breeches and have a King and cozy enough to still enjoy birthday parties and candy pulls.
If Pompus, the King was a bit proud who could blame him? His Queen was the loveliest, his son the most charming and his elephant the most elegant and unusual for twenty Kingdoms round about. And Pompus, for all his pride, had a very simple way of ruling. When the Pumperdinkians did right they were rewarded; when they did wrong they were dipped.