Fantasy fiction; Oz (Imaginary place) -- Juvenile fiction
"Whee! Whee--ee! We do!" A hundred high voices answered his question.
They seemed to issue from the chimneys themselves, and as Jack and
Peter peered anxiously upward strange smoky figures began to spiral out
of the chimney tops and float in a dark mass over their heads. They
looked like evil genii or goblins who had long been imprisoned in magic
bottles. Their shapes and faces changed constantly and as a whole horde
of them dropped downward, Peter stepped closer to Jack. "They're only
smoke," he explained reassuringly.
"Yes, dear Peter," quavered Jack, "but smoke is most injurious to
pumpkins! Oh my head! My poor poor head!" Peter had no time to
sympathize with Jack, for at that moment a crowd of Smokies surrounded
them. Their eyes were spite-red sparks and, snatching at Peter and Jack
with their long shadowy arms, they began to hiss and puff threateningly.
"Can you curl?" demanded one, snapping his eyes close to Peter. "Can
you curl, and do a double spiral? Can you make soot and smoulder?"
"No! No! No!" coughed Peter, snatching out his handkerchief and waving
it wildly about his head. "Go away! Go away. You're making me all
black."
"Ha, Ha, Ha!" shrieked a great smoky giant. "That's the color you
should be. This is Chimneyville, but wait till you see our Soot Sooty
down below. Come to our Sooty and see how black and beautiful you will
become."
"We won't," cried Jack Pumpkinhead defiantly, "we won't come or become.
If this is Chimneyville, then you are Chimney-villains. Go away you
black monsters. We refuse to visit your old Sooty. Go away, go away.
You're smoking my beautiful head." Trying to cover his head with his
arms, Jack backed against a chimney, but his words only seemed to
infuriate the Smokies. Swelling with rage, they surged forward.
"Smoke 'em up! Smoke 'em out! Throw 'em down the chimneys!" they
sputtered. "Now then, boys, all together!" While Peter and Jack struck
out left and right, the grim gray specters tried to lift them into the
air. But there was no strength in their vapory arms and with little
shrieks and hisses they pressed closer and closer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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