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Ozma of Oz

Creator: Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919
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While the little maid from Oz gazed wonderingly upon this scene the Nome King uttered a shrill whistle, and at once all the silver and gold doors flew open and solid ranks of Nome soldiers marched out from every one. So great were their numbers that they quickly filled the immense underground cavern and forced the busy workmen to abandon their tasks. Although this tremendous army consisted of rock-colored Nomes, all squat and fat, they were clothed in glittering armor of polished steel, inlaid with beautiful gems. Upon his brow each wore a brilliant electric light, and they bore sharp spears and swords and battle-axes of solid bronze. It was evident they were perfectly trained, for they stood in straight rows, rank after rank, with their weapons held erect and true, as if awaiting but the word of command to level them upon their foes. "This," said the Nome King, "is but a small part of my army. No ruler upon Earth has ever dared to fight me, and no ruler ever will, for I am too powerful to oppose." He whistled again, and at once the martial array filed through the silver and gold doorways and disappeared, after which the workmen again resumed their labors at the furnaces. Then, sad and discouraged, Ozma of Oz turned to her friends, and the
Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue

HATCHIE: THE GUARDIAN SLAVE. CHAPTER I. "_Antony_. You grow presumptuous. _Ventidius_. I take the privilege of plain love to speak. _Antony_. Plain love!--Plain arrogance! plain insolence!" DRYDEN. On the second floor of a lofty building in ---- street, New Orleans, was situated the office of Anthony Maxwell, Esq., Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Commissioner for Georgia, Alabama, and a dozen other states. His office had not the usual dusty, business-like aspect of such places, but presented more the appearance of a gentleman's drawing-room; and, but for the ponderous cases of books bound in law-sheep, and a table covered with tin boxes and bundles of papers secured with red tape, the visitor
Nome King calmly reseated himself on his rock throne. "It would be foolish for us to fight," the girl said to the Tin Woodman. "For our brave Twenty-Seven would be quickly destroyed. I'm sure I do not know how to act in this emergency." "Ask the King where his kitchen is," suggested the Tiger. "I'm hungry as a bear." "I might pounce upon the King and tear him in pieces," remarked the Cowardly Lion. "Try it," said the monarch, lighting his pipe with another hot coal which he took from his pocket. The Lion crouched low and tried to spring upon the Nome King; but he hopped only a little way into the air and came down again in the same place, not being able to approach the throne by even an inch. "It seems to me," said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully, "that our best plan is to wheedle his Majesty into giving up his slaves, since he is too great a magician to oppose." "This is the most sensible thing any of you have suggested," declared the Nome King. "It is folly to threaten me, but I'm so kind-hearted that I cannot stand coaxing or wheedling. If you really wish to