Introduction - Babes In WENNLand

Ok, I know this is way late. We're weeks beyond Christmas now. I'm just tired of not finishing projects. I meant to have this out by Christmas week, but life, holidays, illness, and my renewed interest in Star Wars following the overwhelming success of Force Awakens intervened. I now have at least two Star Wars fanfictions planned, along with an original fairy tale, the rest of Once Upon a Time In the Land of WENN, and Captain Victor, Man of Power. Anything else beyond those, we'll see what happens.

At any rate, you'll need to see the Remember WENN holiday episode Christmas In the Airwaves and at least one version of Babes In Toyland for this to make any sense. Here's links to the show and to the Shirley Temple 60's TV version of Toyland:

Christmas In the Airwaves

Shirley Temple Theater: Babes In Toyland

Lisa Herbert is a very mature young lady for an eleven-year-old. She thinks she's too big for the "Tell It to Santa" show at radio station WENN or for her brother Alan's favorite shows. She and Alan are about to learn a lesson in the joys of childhood and the holidays from the staff and their beloved grandfather Mr. Eldridge. They find themselves aiding Santa Claus and young lovers in a magical world filled with Mother Goose characters, nasty villains, exciting escapes, and dastardly plots...a world where anything can happen in your dreams...

Babes In WENNLand, Part 1

A WENN Fairy Tale: Babes In WENNLand

Rating: PG (mild violence; children in peril; mild innuendo)

Pairings: Betty/Scott, Hilary/Jeff, Maple/Gil Martin

Disclaimer: The characters always belong to Rupert Holmes. The show would belong to American Movie Classics if they'd acknowledge its existence.

Notes: This was inspired by the 1903 Victor Herbert operetta Babes In Toyland, and the many versions of it that has appeared since then, including the films from 1934 and 1961, the TV specials from the mid-50's, 1960, and 1986, and the animated film from 1997.

Lisa Herbert and her brother Alan were sitting in the reception area of Radio Station WENN, waiting for their mother to pick them up after work. Alan just couldn't sit still. He swung his legs and craned his neck this way and that, trying to take in all that was going on around them. It was late, almost dinner time, and Mother still hadn't come. They were at the station where their Grandpa Tom worked to appear on the show 'Tell It to Santa.' The show had ended almost twenty minutes ago, but their mother hadn't yet arrived.

Lisa was used to it. Mother worked as a saleswoman in the toy department of Gimbels' Department Store, a few blocks from WENN on Isabella Street. She was often late picking them up from school or other activities. She never meant to be late, but her shifts occasionally ran overtime. She ran a finger through her dirty blond hair, pulling it back with the velvet bow headband again. She was wearing her best red velvet dress and the shiny red strap shoes that pinched a little because they were new.

“Isn't this excitin'?” Alan asked. “I can't believe we're in a real radio station! And not just any station, but the one that puts on 'Amazon Andy' and 'The Masked Man,' my favorite shows in the whole world!” Lisa couldn't help thinking that if he strained his neck any further, he'd stretch it out until it was as long as a rope of taffy. “I wonder if I'll see Amazon Andy walk through the door?” She just hoped he wouldn't damage his new gray suit. He had the same mop of dirty blond hair and blue eyes that she did, but while she kept hers neat and tidy, Alan's was always flying in all directions. Even when Mother put oil in it, it would still bounce right back up again, like Alfalfa's hair in the Our Gang shorts.

Lisa sniffed. “It's 'excitING,' Alan. Watch your g's.” She rolled her eyes. “And anyway, Amazon Andy and The Masked Man aren't real people. They're just people on shows. Honestly, Alan, I wish you had better taste. You're so childish.”

Alan made a face. “You talk like you're a grown-up! You're only eleven.”

“I'll be twelve in February. That's practically grown-up. Well, almost.”

Betty Roberts frowned as Gertie Reece, WENN's switchboard operator and receptionist, got off the phone. “Were you able to contact their mother at Gimbels', Gertie?”

Gertie sighed. “Yes, but she said it'll be at least a half-hour or more before she can get off work. She's swamped with Christmas orders.”

Betty groaned. “What are we going to do? We're not babysitters, and Mr. Eldridge has work of his own to do!”

Lisa made a face. “You don't have to worry about us. We're old enough to take care of ourselves. This happens a lot with Mother.” She nodded at her brother. “I'm Lisa Herbert. This is Alan. We kind of keep an eye on each other. We'll help watch Grandfather, too. I know his mind wanders.”

Betty nodded. “I'm Betty Roberts.” She nodded at the older red-haired lady. “This is Gertie Reece, our switchboard operator.” The older lady waved.

Alan ignored his sister. “Can I meet Amazon Andy and the Masked Man? Are they still here?”

Betty shook her head. “I'm afraid they're on the air right now, doing the news.”

“Can we do the news?” Alan bounced up and down. “Being on 'Tell It to Santa' was fun!” He made a face as the main entrance to WENN opened. “Except for the really ugly guy who said he was Santa. I'm not surprised those twin kids were scared. He looked like the villains in the Superman comics.”

“I'm so glad my performance left a mark,” Rollie Pruitt sneered as he and Scott Sherwood, WENN's station manager, came in the door. “It's obvious you children don't recognize natural talent.”

“We know when someone isn't Santa!” Alan put his hands on his hips. “You're not Santa! You're too scary to even be Scrooge!”

“How quaint.” Pruitt smirked. “The little one still believes in Santa Claus.”

“I've been trying to talk to him, sir,” Lisa started. Truthfully, she didn't like Mr. Pruitt, either. He yelled at the WENN people and gave all the kids who were at the 'Tell It To Santa' show dirty looks, like he was mad at them for just being there. She also didn't want her brother to get into trouble for talking back to an adult, even if he wasn't a nice adult.

Pruitt patted the boy on the head. “I'm sure you'll grow out of such a charming...and noisy...affliction.” He turned to Scott. “There will be no arguments, Mr. Sherwood. Mrs. Redmond has issued her orders. There will be no more references to any Christmas activities or goings on at this station.”

“Sir, that isn't practical!” Betty joined Scott at the door. “You have to talk some sense into her! Just because she's lonely at Christmas doesn't mean everyone is!”

“Who's lonely?” Alan asked. His sister quieted him. He had no right to interfere with grown-up matters.

“Pruitt, you're a financier,” Scott continued. “You know how important our advertising revenues are to this station's continued survival. If you allow Mrs. Redmond to cancel Christmas, we're the ones who are going to be canceled. The sponsors don't care about niche markets or if Mrs. Redmond is going through a bad time. They want their shows to go on as planned. Broomes Brothers will sue us if we don't do their Christmas Eve special. We'll be the only station in Pittsburgh not mentioning the holidays!”

Pruitt rubbed his head. “And you don't understand that I'm not the one who gave this order. If it were up to me, the Redmonds would have shut this station down the moment they bought it. You talk about practicality, Miss Roberts. How practical is it to keep something going that isn't making money? It would be more practical to close this station and gain the tax benefits.”

“No!” Alan shot out of his seat. “That means there would be no more 'Amazon Andy!' And what about Grandpa Tom, and 'Tell It To Santa'?”

“Alan!” Lisa took his arm and gently pulled him back into his seat. “Sir, I'm sorry. He shouldn't have said that.”

“No, he shouldn't have.” Pruitt glared at them. “It's not your place to talk, either of you. You're only children. You don't know anything. You're to be seen, not heard.”

“I'm not a child!” Lisa shot back.

“Yeah!” added Alan. “And we do know stuff! I'll bet we know more about radio and bein'...being nice to people than you do! Grandpa Tom tells us all about radio!”

“Nice doesn't get you food on the table, child.” He turned his piggy-eyed glare on Scott. “I want to talk to you in my office, Mr. Sherwood.”

“I told you before, sir, it's my office.”

Pruitt only sniffed. “When I'm in Pittsburgh, it's my office. You'll have to find somewhere else to work. The sidewalk would be appropriate.” He gave Scott an odd look. “How did you happen to become the manager here? Mrs. Redmond told me you just...turned up on the doorstep one day?”

Scott had to grit his teeth hard keep him from using inappropriate language in front of ladies and children. “My late friend Victor Comstock recommended me for the job.”

Pruitt raised an eyebrow. “I met Comstock briefly once, in Boston. He was a very erudite man, if rather long-winded at times. You don't seem like someone who would be a bosom companion of his.”

“I've wondered about that for months,” Betty muttered under her breath. She'd always thought something about Scott's sudden arrival seemed more than a little strange.

“You'd be surprised.” Scott immediately looked at his watch. “Oh, would you look at the time? We should really talk about this in MY office.” He hustled the larger man down the hall. What he really wanted to do was punch Pruitt into next Christmas, but not only was that not in the spirit of the season, it could cost him his ill-gotten job.

Lisa glared at her brother. “Can't you keep quiet? Now that mean Mr. Pruitt is mad at Mr. Sherwood!”

“You got him mad at us!” Alan mimicked his sister. “'I'm not a child!' You are a child! So am I!”

“Not that much of a child. And he had no right to say so.”

Gertie sighed. “Why don't I take you kids to the Green Room and see if we have any eggnog and cookies left, before they're both banned from the station?”

“I don't understand why someone would want to take away Christmas,” Alan grumbled as they went through the door and into the green-painted room where the staff ate and relaxed between shows. “That Mrs. Redmond must be even meaner than that Pruitt guy.”

Gertie shook her head as she went to the icebox. “I don't think she's really mean. She seemed pleasant enough when she was here earlier today. She's just kind of sad right now. Her husband died last Christmas, and she misses him.” She emerged with a bottle of eggnog, which she poured into a pair of mismatched glasses.

Lisa frowned. “Oh. That poor lady!” She knew what it was like to miss someone badly at Christmas. Their father left years ago. She missed him every day, but especially during the holidays. Alan was really little then. He didn't remember him the way she did.

Alan made a face as Gertie brought them sugar cookies with fancy colored sprinkles. “That still doesn't mean she can say there's no Christmas. That isn't fair.”

Gertie put the eggnog back in the icebox. “You know what? I agree with you kids. It isn't fair. I've been sad when people I loved passed away, but that doesn't mean I've stopped enjoying the holidays. I think she's so sad and upset, she's forgotten that she's not the only person in Pittsburgh who listens to the radio.”

A tall lady with orange-red hair and a fancy brown hat strutted in. “Gertie, the switchboard is goin',” she said in a funny voice that sort of sounded like Ed Gardiner on the new Duffy's Tavern show. The older lady left, while the tall lady picked up a couple of cookies and poured herself some eggnog. “Hi there!” she said brightly. “You're the kids who ain't been picked up from 'Tell It To Santa' yet. I'm Maple LaMarsh, ya know, like the syrup.”

“Do you know 'Amazon Andy?'” Alan asked, his blue eyes shining hopefully. “You sound like you could be Judo Judy the Japanese gymnast, or his girlfriend Elizabeth.”

“I sure do!” She grinned. “He's on the air right now, doin' the news. I usually play Judo Judy. Hilary Booth plays Elizabeth. I don't know how happy she is about bein' on a kids' show, but we all gotta do our part.”

“Gosh,” Alan said as he sipped his eggnog, “I'd give anything to meet Amazon Andy! Miss Booth sure is lucky!”

Miss Maple winked at them. “Tell that to her.”

Another fellow, smaller and rounder with longish blond hair and a gray hat, followed the lady in. “You know, Miss LaMarsh,” he said as he joined her at the table, “you're very talented. I was really impressed with that bloody good 'Winter Wonderland' you did back there.”

Miss LaMarsh grinned widely, showing some very big and white teeth. “Thanks, Gil. You can call me Maple, like the syrup.”

“Wow, I like your voice, Mr. Gil!” Alan said. “You sound like Ronald Coleman!”

“Or Laurence Olivier,” Lisa added. “Mother thinks he's sooo dreamy.”

Gil gave the kids a friendly smile. “Thanks. It's funny how you Americans get giddy over accents. Where I come from, this is a normal radio voice for Northern England.”

“You're from England?” Lisa asked in surprise. “Aren't you awfully far from home for Christmas?”

“Oh, I'm here as part of an exchange program.” Gil shrugged. “I'm a bachelor. I don't have much in the way of relatives at home, and I thought seein' the US might be something different for the holidays.”

“I'll probably be goin' to Brooklyn for Christmas,” Maple started. She turned to Gil. “Maybe you could join me? Papa wouldn't mind another mouth. My siblings have enough kids of their own as it is.”

Gil smiled. “That's very kind of you, Maple. I may take you up on that offer.”

Another woman, this one with reddish-brown hair and a blue dress with a black hat, sauntered inside, followed by a tall, good-looking younger man with dark curls in a fancy brown suit. “Maple, Mackie will be finished with the news in a minute. He'll need you for 'Amazon Andy' and 'Captain Power and Lightning Lad.'”

“Those are two of my favorite shows!” Alan exclaimed in delight as Maple and Gil headed out arm in arm. “Are you Elizabeth?” he asked the lady. “You're kind of old for Amazon Andy's girlfriend.”

Lisa elbowed Alan hard. Even if the lady was older, it wasn't proper to say so. Mother said you never talked about a lady's age, especially in front of her.

The older woman made a face. “How...charming.” She sighed. “Yes, I play Elizabeth, as well as Lady Voltage and the Queen of Darkness on 'Captain Power.' Your mother might be more familiar with my work. I generally prefer my roles on our soap operas. I'm Hilary Booth, of course.”

Lisa grinned as Alan made a face. “Mother loves you! 'The Hands of Time' is her favorite show. She never misses it. She'll stop in the radio section of Gimbels while she's moving stock so she can hear it all. Sometimes I listen to it when I'm home from school sick.” Even though she really didn't quite get all that talk about amnesia and court trials. She thought it would help her understand grown-ups better.

Miss Hilary beamed. “At least the young lady has impeccable taste.” She turned to the tall man behind her. “Jeffrey, darling, why don't we get something from the water cooler? Eggnog tends to clog your voice box and adds far too many unnecessary calories to your waistline.”

Jeffrey, the tall, handsome fellow, nodded. “I could use some water myself.”

“Are you 'Amazon Andy,' sir?” Alan asked him.

Jeffrey shook his head. “I'm afraid not. I play Kippy, his sidekick.” He nodded at the clock on the wall. “We'd better get moving. We'll need to be on the air ourselves soon.” He smiled. “It was nice to meet you children.”

“You too, Mr. Jeffrey,” Lisa told him as they left.

“I like it here!” Alan declared as he finished his snack. “Everyone is so nice, an' they give you cookies.”

Lisa licked the crumbs off her fingers. “Except Mr. Pruitt. I think he's meaner than Mr. Scrooge.”

Alan nodded. “He's meaner than anybody! I'll bet he's the meanest man in the whole world!”

Lisa groaned. Nasty old Mr. Pruitt just had to come in the green room right as Alan said that. “I see my reputation precedes me,” he sneered.

Scott Sherwood, the shorter man with the black and silver hair and round-cheeked smile, followed him. Scott wasn't smiling now, though. He looked like he wanted to punch that rotten Pruitt in the nose. Betty followed them. She looked really disappointed, like she'd gotten her favorite doll taken away. “You really are something, Pruitt,” Scott growled. “If there weren't kids and a woman present, I'd...”

Pruitt looked down his nose at him. “You'd lose your job. Tsk tsk, Sherwood, behaving like a ruffian in front of impressionable children! Showing your true colors?”

“He's a lot nicer than you are!” Alan grumbled.

“Shouldn't you have left by now, child?” Pruitt turned his snooty gaze to them. Lisa squirmed in her seat. Pruitt's glare was like ice. It went straight through you. “This is not a nursery school.”

“Their mother is late picking them up,” Betty explained quickly. “She'll be here soon.”

“Not soon enough.” He turned to Scott again, shoving a paper into the angry station manager's clenched fist. “Here's the orders. I want the decorations down by tomorrow and the scripts revised by the end of the weekend at the latest.”

“But sir, I'll be going home to Indiana this weekend!” Betty exclaimed.

Pruitt rolled his eyes. “Miss Roberts, that's none of my concern. You can stay or go, but these scripts need to have any references to Christmas eliminated, or it'll be both your jobs.” He glared at Scott. “Especially yours.”

“Fine, Pruitt,” Scott said, fighting to keep his voice and his composure even. “We'll do what you want.”

Pruitt smirked again. “I'm glad you see things my way. Happy New Year.” He walked out, chortling to himself. This station was perfect for his needs...but that insolent, meddling Sherwood would have to go. He was feisty, quick-witted, and far too clever for his own good.

Betty sighed. “Scott, our date for tonight is off. I'm not going to have the time to eat anywhere but here with all these scripts I have to re-write.” She looked at the heavy stack of papers. “I was so looking forward to being able to go home to Indiana for Christmas, but now...”

“Everything will be ok, Betty. You'll see. We'll think of something.” Scott wiped the tear that ran down her cheek gently with his thumb. She looked up at him. “We always think of something. We're a great team.”

Lisa leaned over, interested in the touching scene. Alan just made a face. Mr. Sherwood seemed like a really neat guy, then he had to get all mushy with Miss Betty. In fact, Alan thought he could be Amazon Andy if he wasn't already in charge of the station. And Betty did look a lot more like his idea of the beautiful, smart Elizabeth than Miss Booth.

They were softly gazing into each others 'eyes. “Scott,” Betty said softly, “I...”

Scott just nodded, his throat bobbing. “Yeah.”

Their lips were about to meet – and Lisa's eyes were about to triple in size – when Hilary Booth and Jeffrey Singer stormed through the door. Jeff was wiping Hilary's bright blue blouse off with a handkerchief. Hilary still had a paper cup in her hand.

Betty and Scott broke away, both of them blushing, as Jeff continued to wipe at Hilary. “There, dear. No harm done. I didn't mean to spill the water on you, but the door knocked into me.” He rubbed his forehead. “Good thing no one can see us on the radio. I must have a knot the size of a boulder on my head. I feel like I've broken my crown.”

“I'll break more than that if you're not careful! This blouse is silk! There are no dry cleaners open during the holidays!” She grabbed the handkerchief from him and rubbed at it herself.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Hilary, Jeff, you both look fine. Jeff, I have aspirin in my office if you need it.”

Jeff nodded. “I think I'll take you up on that.”

“You'll need it after I get my hands on you!” Hilary and Jeff were still arguing noisily as they went to the office to find the aspirin.

Scott reached over to a chipped coffee cup on the table, then went over to the kids, showing off his big, plump grin again. “Hi there, gang! I'm Scott Sherwood, the guy in charge of the station. Sorry about Pruitt earlier. I doubt he's used to dealing with anyone who isn't a stockbroker. And don't mind Hilary and Jeff. They argue, but they really do love each other. Most of the time.” He handed both of them candy canes from the coffee cup. “Hope this will make you feel better. We have to get rid of them, anyway.”

Alan took his right away. “Gosh, thanks, Mr. Sherwood!”

Lisa frowned. “Mother says we shouldn't take presents from strangers.” Sure, Mr. Sherwood seemed all right, when he wasn't mad at Mr. Pruitt, and Miss Betty sure liked him. She didn't like the way he tried to butter them up, though. She didn't think he was trustworthy.

Scott just put the candy cane on her lap. “You're a smart kid. Let's just make it a gift, ok?” He turned to Alan. “I'll bet what they really want is to see 'Amazon Andy' live and on the air.”

Alan looked like he'd burst with happiness. “Really, Mr. Sherwood? Could we see 'Amazon Andy' being made? He's my hero!”

Lisa smiled. “I'd like that. It could be very educational to see a real radio show being performed!”

“I'll take you there myself.” They heard a ring on the phone in the office next to the Green Room. Scott quickly gazed at his watch. “Oh, would you look at the time? Why don't I see who's on the phone? Then I'll take you kids to see the show, and Miss Roberts and I will go out to dinner.”

“But Scott...” Betty began, flustered.

Scott was already out the door. “See you in ten minutes!” Lisa watched him dash into the office in the window behind the couch. It was pale blue, and filled with all kinds of unusual objects, including a big stuffed fish and masks from Africa. Lisa saw pictures like it in her geography books. Mr. Sherwood grabbed the phone on the desk and started talking. His face rapidly darkened as he shook his head vehemently.

Betty sighed again. “If Scott thinks I'm going out with him, he has another thing coming. I'm just too busy.”

“I thought you liked him,” Lisa said in a small voice. Lisa could see the look in Miss Betty's eyes. She did want to go out with Mr. Sherwood, but there was something that made her change her mind...and it wasn't entirely her work.

Betty turned to the children behind her. Alan was already busy slurping his candy cane. “I do like him. I mean, he's a friend, and a surprisingly good station manager. You wouldn't believe some of the crazy ideas he came up with when Victor Comstock, the old manager, first sent him here a few months ago. But now, he's...changed. Oh, he still comes up with wild ideas, but he's gentler, somehow. Sometimes, I almost think he cares about the station, and...well, and us.”

Alan gave Betty a red-mouthed grin. “I think he likes you. I'll bet he'll take you on adventures, just like Amazon Andy does with Elizabeth.”

“We have enough adventures just working at this station.” Betty laughed. “If I had a dime for every crazy thing that happened here, I'd have enough money to buy this place.”

“Too bad you don't have that money now,” Lisa pointed out. “Then you could tell Pruitt and Mrs. Redmond to go away.”

Betty shook her head. “I'm not angry with Mrs. Redmond. I don't entirely blame her. I think she's being a bit selfish, but I can see why she's upset. She did just suffer a very sad loss. I don't think she knows anything about radio stations or running them, either.” The small, delicate young woman frowned. “Mr. Pruitt does, though. He knows what will happen if we don't do our Christmas shows.”

Alan was already half-way though his candy cane. “What will happen?”

Betty indicated the big radio console next to the soft old recliner. “The sponsors will drop out of our shows. They don't care if one woman is sad because her husband died. We'll lose our advertising money, which means we'll have less in our budget next year, and our budget is already too small. We could even shut down.”

“No way!” Alan said fiercely. “I want to hear more 'Amazon Andy'!”

“And you'd lose your jobs,” Lisa added.

“That's why we have to find a way to get our Christmas shows to go on without Pruitt knowing.” Betty picked up the pile of papers on the counter. “We need that money to keep the station open.”

An elderly man shuffled in as Betty gathered the papers. Alan grinned. “Grandpa Tom!” He bounced out of his seat and right to him. Lisa followed more slowly.

Mr. Eldridge put his arms around Alan. “Well, hello there, children. Where's your mother? Shouldn't you be at home already?”

Lisa shook her head. “Mother's getting off late. She's still at the store. She'll be here soon.”

“Oh. Well, we'll just have to find something for you to do in the meantime.” Mr. Eldridge turned to Miss Betty. “I just finished vacuuming the hallway, Betty,” he said. “Gertie helped me get untangled from the cord. They jump out and wind around your ankles if you're not careful.”

The kids giggled. Betty had to stifle a laugh of her own. “Thank you, Mr. Eldridge.” She nodded at the two children in Mr. Eldridge's arms. Alan had just finished the last of his candy cane. Lisa quickly threw hers into her pocket. “Would you keep an eye on them while I start these scripts? Scott's with a sponsor, and everyone else is busy or on the air.”

The old man beamed. “You need only ask.”

Betty nodded. “I'm asking. Mr. Sherwood will take them to see 'Amazon Andy' in a few minutes, but they'll need someone to watch them before then.” She pulled a book out of the pile in her arms. “Why don't you read them this? This is what I based the Babes In Toyland 'Book at Bedtime' we did yesterday after.”

“I would love to, Betty.” He shooed her out the door. “Don't you worry about these youngsters. I've helped their mother with them many times.” He turned to them as Betty went to work on her scripts. “Now, how would you like to hear a story?”

“I would!” Alan said. “Does it have a lot of fights and battles and stuff?”

Mr. Eldridge chuckled. “Well, it has the spiders in the Forest of No Return, and the sword fight between Tom Piper and Barnaby in the end.”

Alan grinned. “Spiders? Forest of No Return? Sword fights? I like the sound of that!”

“Your mother and aunts and uncle used to love this story.” Mr. Eldridge sighed, awash in memories. “I took the three of them to the very first opening night of the original Babes In Toyland when it debuted on Broadway in 1903. Oh, it was such a huge event! The children loved it, all the tapping slates and the fancy costumes and the nursery rhyme characters coming to life. They called those big fairy tale shows 'extravaganzas.' It's too bad they'd never be able to afford them now. I think children today would still like them.”

“I like some fairy tales,” Alan said. “Like the one about Jack and the giant.”

Lisa wrinkled her nose. “I'm too old for fairy tales.”

Mr. Eldridge opened the book. “Well, maybe you won't feel that way about this one.” He started to read. “Once upon a time, two children found themselves on a boat bound for the most magical place in the entire world, Toyland! This was where all the fairy tales and nursery rhymes came to life. They were going to live with their uncle, Barnaby the Crooked Man, who was the meanest and richest man in Toyland.” The old man started yawning. “When they got off the boat, they were greeted by...” He yawned deeper. “Tom-Tom, the Piper's Son, who had promised to steal no more...” His eyes were closing. “And Betty Blue, who lost her holiday shoe...and Little Bo Peep...and...”

The old man's head finally fell over the book. He started snoring rather loudly. Lisa put her finger up to her lips. “Shh. Grandpa's sleeping.”

She looked up as a plump little woman bustled into the room. She had a sweet, moon-like face and large blue eyes. She wore a flowery dress with a lacy collar and a big flowered hat and had a calico shawl wrapped around her arms. The shawl reminded Lisa of the bright ones worn by gypsy women in her geography book on Europe. “Why, hello there, children!” she crooned in a sweet voice. “What are you doing here? I thought the 'Tell It To Santa' broadcast ended at least a half-hour ago.”

“We're waiting for our mother, ma'am,” Lisa explained. “Grandpa Tom is...well, I guess we're watching over him now. Are you an actress?”

“Sort of.” She gave them a gentle smile as she got a cup of coffee. “I'm Eugenia Bremer. I host the overnight program, 'The Agitato Alert.' I doubt you kids are allowed to stay up that late.” She yawned. “I'm not usually in until later, but there's so many parties going on at my boarding house, I thought it might be a lot easier to nap here until my show begins.” She held up a paper. “I'm going to get some dinner – or breakfast, in my case – from the Buttery next door. Would you kids like anything?”

Lisa shook her head before Alan could open his mouth. “No thank you, Miss Bremer. It was nice of you to ask, though.”

“That's all right.” Miss Bremer sipped her coffee. “Ahh. I needed this. Well, I hope you have a nice Christmas.”

“You too, Miss Bremer!” Lisa said as the short woman left. Lisa liked her. She thought she seemed a lot like Mrs. Claus...if Mrs. Claus actually existed. She looked more like Mrs. Claus than Miss Booth did.

Alan was watching Mr. Sherwood in the window. He was still on the phone, and not looking much happier. “I wish Mr. Sherwood would finish whatever it is he's doin' in there. I want to meet 'Amazon Andy.'”

“Look!” Lisa held up a simple brown lady's shoe that had been left by the door. “I think Miss Betty lost her shoe. I saw her wearing these when she was here. Maybe we'd better give it back to her.”

“Yeah, she'll be looking for it.” He frowned. “But what about Grandpa, and Mr. Sherwood?”

“If we take it back to her fast, they won't even know.” She got off the couch, then helped him off. “Come on. You have to wash your hands before we go. They're really sticky from the candy cane. You got me all sticky, too!”

“Awww!” She did get Alan to wash after a lot of fussing, then washed her own hands. When they were done, they went out into the hallway. It was quiet. Everyone must have either been on the air or in their offices. The older red-haired lady wasn't even sitting at the front desk anymore.

“Do you see her?” They peered out into the thirteenth floor, outside the main door to the station.

“No,” Lisa admitted. “I don't see Mother, either. I wish she'd come.” That was when she heard voices. “Wait! Alan, there's people coming!”

Alan pushed his way under her. “Who is it?”

“I don't know.” She started to close the door. “But I don't think we should be listening in.”

Alan stopped her. “Aw, sis! What if it's a gangster or something, and he's gonna use his tommy gun on us?”

Lisa tried to close the door again, but Alan got between it. “I told Mother it wasn't a good idea to let you listen to 'Crimebreakers' and 'Jed Jenner, G-Man.' You get too many ideas.”

Alan shook his head quickly. “Shh! They're coming!”

The first person in their line of sight was Mr. Pruitt. This time, he wore a heavy black coat and scarf over his suit. He looked way too happy. Even his grin was crooked.

With him were two men. They both wore plain old suits. One was a very tall, gaunt fellow. He had thin yellow hair and a five-o'clock shadow. His suit hung off him like dust rags. The other man was short and very, very fat. His suit seemed to be ready to pop off any minute. He had a tiny little mustache and beady, glittery eyes.

“I don't care how you do it,” Pruitt was saying. “I want you to find out what that Scott Sherwood did before he came to this station, and what he's up to now. I've heard rumors that he has something going on behind the scenes. I think he's nothing more than a common pig thief and con-man, but I have no proof. I need you...gentlemen...to find that proof.” He smirked. “I'll make sure you're richly rewarded for any information you can unearth on the enterprising Mr. Sherwood.”

The tall man gave Pruitt a crooked smile of his own. “Don't worry, Mr. P. Henry Rodrigo and Calvin Gonzorgo are on the case. We always get our man.”

The short man nodded with a fat little grin. “Soon, you'll know more about that Sherwood guy than his own mudder does.”

“Good.” He handed them each a pile of bills. “I assume that will do for a retainer?”

“More than do, Mr. P.” Mr. Rodrigo put the money in his coat pocket. “Splendid doing business with you. We'll contact you as soon as we come up with information.”

Lisa gasped. “Alan, we have to find Mr. Sherwood! I think Mr. Pruitt wants those men to do something to him.”

“Yeah!” Alan nodded. “I'll bet they're gangsters. Or private eyes, like in the movies.”

Lisa finally pulled him out of the door. “Let's go get Mr. Sherwood. He should know about this.”

Babes In WENNLand, Part 2

They hurried down the hallway to Mr. Sherwood's office. He wasn't there. “Mr. Sherwood?” Lisa peered in. “Mr. Sherwood?”

Alan shrugged. “Well, if he's Amazon Andy, maybe he's out saving the world.”

“I only wish I was Amazon Andy.” Mr. Sherwood came in from behind them. “I just talked to Miss Roberts and Mr. Bloom, one of our actors. They're going to start taking down the Christmas decorations as soon as we finish the prime-time action shows.” He sighed. “Why don't I take you kids to see that show? It may be the last chance you get. I checked on your grandpa in the Green Room. He's still napping.”

“Mr. Sherwood?” Lisa tugged on his sleeve. “We have something important to tell you...”

“Tell me in the control room, ok gang?” Scott started moving them toward a door near the end of the hall.

“Oh!” Lisa finally handed him Miss Betty's brown shoe. “Could you give this to Miss Betty? She lost it in the Green Room.”

He grinned. “Thanks, kids. I'd love to have the chance to play Prince Charming for our own Cinderella.”

“You're welcome, Mr. Sherwood.” Lisa liked being able to help the adults. “Mr. Sherwood, if you'd just listen for a minute...”

Scott waved his hand as they entered a narrow room with a wide window on one side. “You can tell me later, after the show.” They could see Miss Booth, Mr. Jeffrey, Miss Maple, Mr. Gil, a small, slender man with a thin mustache like the private eye's, and a short, balding fellow with a thick mustache and round spectacles reading from papers.

“Oh boy!” Alan grinned at the small young man who sat behind a whole row of nothing but computer controls, like something out of the Flash Gordon serials. “Which guy is 'Amazon Andy?'”

The young man with the sad brown eyes and the cleft in his chin nodded. “Hi there, kids. I'm C.J, the station technician. I'm in charge of all the controls and making sure the transmitters are always working.” He gave them a sweet, wide grin. “Let me tell you a secret. 'Amazon Andy' is the day name for Mr. Mackie Bloom over there.” He pointed to the little man with the glasses. “Amazon Andy is his night name.”

Alan frowned. “He doesn't look like a superhero. He's the guy who played Santa when they all stopped arguin'.”

“'ArguinG, Alan.” Lisa sighed. “It doesn't matter what he looks like. Amazon Andy isn't real anyway.”

She liked “Amazon Andy” when she was younger, but now that she was almost grown-up, it seemed kind of silly. Real people didn't run all over the world, having adventures and finding treasures. That was kid stuff. Real people helped their mothers take care of the house and their brothers. They listened to their mom cry in the night because she might not be able to pay the rent.

Mr. Sherwood looked at his watch again. “Why don't I take you kids back to the Green Room and your grandfather? The show is just about over, and your mother should be here any minute.”

Lisa frowned. “Mr. Sherwood, Alan and I will be fine on our own. We take care of each other all the time. We're not babies.”

“Well, all right. Just don't touch anything, and don't go in any doors but the one to the Green Room.”

“Aw, we'll be great!” Alan grabbed Lisa's hand. “Come on! Let's go see if Grandpa Tom is up yet. I want to hear the rest of his story.”

They followed Mr. Sherwood out to the hallway. He went in his office. Lisa was about to follow him and try to tell him about the men again when she saw Alan dart down the hall. He stopped before a door. The sign said “Studio B.”

“Alan!” Lisa ran over to him. “We're not supposed to go anywhere but the Green Room! What are you doing? We could get into trouble!”

“Aw, we won't get into trouble.” Alan had his ear to the door. “I hear something. I think it's music, but I don't know what kind.”

“Alan, it's probably a show.” She tried to pull him away. “Let's go, before the adults see us. Mother should be here any minute!”

Alan pushed her away. “Ever since Mother started letting you help more with the chores n' stuff, you've been no fun. All you ever do is try to be Miss Proper and act like a grown up. I'm tired of you saying I'm a baby. I'm going to have an adventure like Amazon Andy, and I don't care if it's what kids do!” He opened the door and stomped in the room.

“Alan!” Lisa looked around fast. Seeing no one in the hall, she opened the door and darted in.

It was so dark in Studio B, she couldn't see anything. She couldn't see Alan. She couldn't see her hands in front of her face. “Alan? Alan, where are you?”

Suddenly, she felt something creep up behind her and grab her arm. “BOO!”

“Eeek!” She jumped a mile before she realized whose voice that was. “Alan, that wasn't funny!”

She couldn't see Alan, but she could hear his laughter. “You should have heard your voice! I wish I could have seen your face. I'll bet it was funny!”

“It isn't funny.” She sat down. “I wish Mother was here. I'm scared. I don't know the way out.”

Alan sat next to her. “Aw, come on, sis.” They leaned against what felt like two wooden chairs. “This is probably just another studio or a storage room. We'll get out soon.”

Lisa yawned. “Maybe we should just rest for a few minutes. They won't miss us. They're all on the air, or napping too. We'll be awake by the time Mother arrives.”

“I'm not tired.” Even as Alan said that, he broke into a huge yawn. “Besides, it's not...” He yawned again. “...bedtime yet.”

She put her arm around the outline of her brother. “Just a few minutes, ok?”

“Ok.” She could already feel his breathing soften. His mop of flyaway blond strands finally fell against her head. “Night, sis.”

“Night, Alan.” She leaned against him. It was a little chilly in Studio B. She thought she felt a draft coming from somewhere. She pulled her brother closer to her for warmth.

I wish Mother would come, she thought as she closed her eyes. I'm so worried about everything. Mother...Mr. Sherwood...Alan...Miss Betty...Miss Maple...the station...no more shows...mean Mr. Pruitt...Mr. Eldridge...Toyland...

Her eyes were only closed for a few minutes when she heard someone walk past them. The slow, shuffling steps were familiar. She heard something knock over, and the familiar voice of a somewhat befuddled old man. “How did that chair get there? They don't usually get up and walk on their own!”

She knew that voice. Her eyes flew open. “Grandpa Tom?” She looked around. She thought she saw his outline in the dark room. “Grandpa?”

“Child?” He shuffled over to them. “Why, what are you doing here?”

“Huh?” Alan raised his head. “What's goin' on?”

“GoinG on, Alan.” She looked up at what little she could see of the older man in the dark. The spectacles and white hair seemed to glow against the blackness. He still wore his same sweater, bow tie, and suspenders, but she could have sworn there was some kind of strange belt around his waist. “Grandpa? What are you doing here?”

“Why, I'm going to Toyland, little one. It's so busy at this time of year, and there's so much to do!” He nodded into the darkness.

Lisa helped Alan to his feet. “But there is no such place, Grandpa.” Sometimes, she thought Mother was right and Grandpa was getting a little senile in his old age.

“Of course there is!” Grandpa Tom took their hands. “Didn't I just tell you about it? And they're having a lot of trouble there, let me tell you! We have to get there in time to stop that mean old Barnaby from destroying the toy factory.”

“Barnaby?” Lisa frowned as they moved forward. “Who's Barnaby?”

“Mr. Barnaby is the Crooked Man who walks a crooked mile,” Grandpa Tom explained. “He's the richest man in Toyland, but he's so stingy and nasty, he won't share his money with anyone. He makes people pay rents that are too high and will throw them out of they don't pay ahead of time, or will throw people out of their jobs if he doesn't like what they're doing. He spies on everything and everyone from the tower in Crooked Manor, on top of Crooked Hill.”

“Can't wait to meet him,” Lisa muttered. This so-called Toyland didn't sound like it was much fun.

“Isn't there anyone who'll stop him?” Alan asked. “What about Amazon Andy?”

“I don't know about him,” Grandpa Tom admitted, “but there are people in Toyland who may be able to help. You'll meet them when we get there.”

“When ARE we going to get there?” Lisa had noticed as they walked that it was getting a bit lighter. It was much warmer, too. Her red velvet dress was starting to feel a little too sweaty. Alan was tugging at his good shirt and tie.

They stopped before a door in the wall. Lisa thought it was the door they came in before, but the handle had fancier carvings that looked like old-fashioned toys. A wreath made from pine branches and two toy soldiers hung in the center. “Here's the door to Toyland.” Grandpa Tom nodded. “Remember, when we go to Toyland, you will see some of the most magical people, places, and things in the world! But the magic can only truly work if you believe in them.”

“I believe!” said Alan, excited. He was bouncing up and down. “I can't wait to get to Toyland and fight that mean ol' Barnaby! This will be fun!”

Lisa played with her dress. “I don't know. They're just toys, and we're only kids. How can we stop a rich old man who owns half the town?”

Grandpa Tom just gave them a warm, kind smile. “Oh, you'd be surprised what toys can do, little one.”

Lisa made a face. “I'm not little, Grandpa. I'm almost an adult.”

The old man just shook his head. He finally twisted the knob and opened the door. There was a rush of air and light as they walked through the door and into the sun.  

Babes In WENNLand, Part 3

When Lisa finally adjusted her eyes, the last place she expected to be was a beautiful, bright green meadow. It was like the beginning of the Wizard of Oz movie. One minute, they were standing in a dark radio station. The next, they were surrounded by emerald-green grass and a robin's egg-blue sky that were so brilliant, they made Technicolor movies seem pale. When she looked behind her, she saw that the door to Studio B was carved into a huge tree bursting with pink and yellow flowers.

“Where are we?” Alan asked, just as shocked as his older sister.

Grandpa waved his had. “Oh, this is part of the Green Country Meadows that surround the southern end of Toyland. Sheep graze here, and young people like yourself go for walks and have picnics.”

That was when they saw someone hurrying towards them. She was a tall woman with long, thick red hair that fell in ringlets around her shoulders. She wore a frilly orange-striped skirt and a white blouse with a low-cut ruffled collar and a brown velvet bodice tied with ribbons. A straw bonnet was tied around her chin with a yellow ribbon and trimmed with daisies. She held a long crook, like a really long candy cane, only it had trailing orange ribbons on the end.

“Toymaker!” The young woman hurried to him. Her odd New York accent sounded very familiar, and frankly a bit out of place in the country. “You've got to help me find 'em. They ran out on me again.”

Grandpa Tom chuckled. “Maple Bo Peep, this is the third time this month you've lost your sheep and don't know where to find them. I tell you the same thing every time. Leave them alone, and they'll come home, wagging their tails behind them.”

“But it's been almost the whole day, and I still don't know where they are.” Maple twisted a lacy hankie in her hand. “Mr. Barnaby told me that if I lose the sheep one more time, he'll fire me and turn me out into the street!”

Their grandfather patted the young woman on the shoulder. “There there, Maple. They have to be around here somewhere.”

Maple smiled at the two children. “Who are your friends here?”

Grandpa nodded at them. “Oh, this is Lisa and Alan, two very good friends of mine. They're visiting from Pittsburgh.”

“Yes,” Lisa added quickly, “but only until our mother comes for us.”

“Pittsburgh, huh?” Maple shrugged. “Never heard of it. Must be one of those fancy cities across the sea.”

Lisa took Alan's hand and followed Maple and their grandfather down the hill. To her right, she could see a beach and sparkling water. To her left was a high brown wall covered in flowering vines and ivy that looked like they were made from icing. Two enormous candy canes held up a shimmering rock candy gate. Roofs made from sugar wafers and the metal whistles of a factory rose over the houses.

Towering above it all, beyond a forest so dark it nearly seemed black, was a series of dusty-looking mountains, with a gleaming black castle glowering down on the valley. Lisa thought she saw colorful little carriages just beyond the forest, near the mountains. Two people gathered water from a well on a grassy green hill near-by.

“Is that Toyland?” Alan asked as they made their way across the meadow, looking for any signs of fleecy animals.

“That's Toyland Town,” Maple explained. “That's where most of the citizens of Toyland live and work. The Fantasia Sea is behind you. The Gypsy Camp is near the Parched Mountains.”

Alan peered into a green bush...and ducked away when a bee buzzed after him. “What about the forest?” he asked as he hurried over to Lisa. “It looks spooky.”

“And that castle up there?” Lisa pointed towards the Parched Mountains. “It looks like Dr. Frankenstein's house.” She shivered at the thought. She never was very fond of scary stuff.

Maple frowned. “That's the Forest of No Return. You can never go there. That's where the trolls live. They're big and dumb, but they're also very strong and very, very mean. They'll hurt anything if they're in a bad enough mood.” She peered behind a tree, still looking for her sheep. “The castle belongs to Pruitt Barnaby. I heard he keeps watch over everything that goes on in Toyland from the highest tower and has a basement filled with nasty things that'll torture you and turn you into toads.”

Lisa wrinkled her nose. “Eeew!”

Alan just grinned. “Neat! I'd love to be a toad. I'd be a great swimmer!”

Lisa finally saw a man on the horizon. “Maple?” It was a small fellow with a gentle, laid-back grin. He was dressed like a character from an Errol Flynn movie, all flowing white shirts and leather vests and loose leggings. Only his shirt was rumpled, his vest wasn't tied, and he had a sort of lazy, good-natured look about him. His English accent sounded kind of familiar. He was followed by a line of fluffy white, gray, and black sheep, all of them looking a bit embarrassed. “I found these naughty rovers of yours getting a drink by the stream. You really need to keep a better eye on them.”

“Oh, you bad girls, you!” Maple leaned over one of the sheep and hugged them. “You should hang your heads, you silly sheep! I don't know what Mr. Barnaby would have said if you were really lost.”

“Can we help you keep an eye on them?” Alan asked. He petted one of the sheep. She bleated at him, nuzzling his hand.

A tiny lamb jumped on Lisa with her wobbly legs. She was so cute, Lisa didn't even mind that she was getting her velvet dress dirty. “I like this one. She's so sweet!”

“That's Woolie. She's the baby of the family.” Maple picked up the lamb. Woolie licked her cheek playfully. “I'd love it if you'd all help me get these guys back to town, before Barnaby knows they're gone.”

Grandpa Tom nodded. “I need to get back to town myself. I have to talk to Scott Piper about the new toy designs.”

Maple laughed as she gently nudged the sheep along with her shepherd's crook. “That's our Scotty. Always coming up with big new ideas. Ever since he took over running the Toyland Toy Factory, that's all he's talked about.” She smirked. “Well, that and courting Little Betty Blue. He somehow manages to be there every time she loses those holiday shoes of hers and put them back on.”

“I know these poems!” Alan exclaimed. “Little Betty Blue, who lost her holiday shoe.” He turned to Maple. “And you're Little Bo Peep.”

Lisa frowned at the Englishman. “What about you, sir?”

The Englishman shook the girl's hand. “They call me Little Gil Tucker. I travel from town to town, singing for my supper. I'm in Toyland for the big Christmas Festival tomorrow.”

“Christmas Festival?” Alan looked excited. “That sounds like fun!”

“Oh, it is!” Their grandfather beamed. “The Christmas Festival is the biggest even of the year. That's when Santa arrives to officially begin the holiday and pick up all the toys for the children. We work with him and his elves at the North Pole, making sure that every child always gets what they want on whichever holiday they get presents on.”

“Really?” Alan's eyes were as big as saucers. “The real Santa?”

“Of course!” Grandpa's eyes twinkled. “If you stay for the Festival, you may even get to meet him.”

“Oh, that's all right, Grandpa,” Lisa said quickly. She didn't want to admit that she wasn't even sure Santa existed. “We really need to find someone who can get us back to the radio station. Our mother will be picking us up soon.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourselves.”

They were about to make their way through the gate when they heard yelling and the sound of something rolling down the hill. Lisa turned around just in time to see the two people who were getting water from the well on the hill fall down it. They ran towards them, the woman wailing and trying to throw her bucket at the taller man. They both wore blue and black. Her lace-trimmed blue silk dress was sopping wet. Water dripped off her fancy ruffled bonnet. The reddish-brown ringlets that peeped out of them drooped over her shoulders. He was tall, with tousled brown curls and a handsome, narrow face. His outfit was similar to Gil's, but in blue and black, and far-better made. He moaned as he held his head.

“Jack, you idiot! Look at what you've done!” The woman waved the bucket in his face. “All we needed to do was fetch a pail of water. You just had to fall down and make me come tumbling after!”

Jack just moaned louder. “Jill, darling, can you keep it down? I think I've broken my crown!”

Maple crossed her arms. “Again? Isn't this the third time this week you two have lost that pail going down the hill?”

Lisa's face brightened. “Oh, I know this one. 'Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after.'”

“Are you all right, Jack my boy?” Grandpa asked. “That was a nasty spill you took.”

“I'll be fine, once we get home,” Jack admitted as he rubbed his head. “I just need some vinegar and brown paper.”

They were about to cross through the gate when a stern-looking soldier in a red uniform with a tall black hat and lots of shiny gold buttons blocked them with a candy cane. “State your names and business here.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” exclaimed Mr. Eldridge. “We don't have time to deal with this! I have toys to make, and these children need to get home eventually.”

The soldier leaned over, squinting. “Oh, Toymaker, sir! Is that really you?”

Mr. Eldridge looked himself over. “If it isn't, it must be someone doing a pretty good imitation of me.”

The soldier finally clicked his heels together and saluted him. “Mr. Toymaker, sir! Sorry, sir, but I didn't recognize you outside of the Toy Factory.”

“Oh, that's all right. I probably wouldn't recognize me on the street, either.” He took the children's hands again as they went through the gate. “Now, stay with me, and don't go wandering off. Toyland Town is big and very busy.”

Lisa couldn't help it. She stopped suddenly the moment they got through the gate. Alan ran into her. “Ow! Sis, what was that about?”

“Alan, it's beautiful!” And it was. Toyland was the most beautiful town she'd ever seen. The roads were made of rock candy, like the gate. The buildings were mostly made of gingerbread and icing, with the occasional thatched roof cottage. Candy canes with toffee signs marked roads and shops. She could see a school with a roof that looked like two slates. An owl wearing a graduate cap and gown rang a bell calling children to class. The biggest Christmas tree Lisa ever saw stood majestically in the center of the circle. Everything was decorated with ropes of ivy, holly, and greenery.

“Wow!” Alan exclaimed as they followed Maple, Gil, and Mr. Eldridge down the road. “This is so neat! Look at everyone! They look like they were in The Adventures of Robin Hood!”

Indeed, everyone in town was dressed like Maple, Gil, Jack, and Jill, in leggings and tunics and fancy dresses with skirts with many petticoats and ruffled collars. A little man with a thin mustache who wore a stained white apron pushed a cart filled with pies. A short fellow wearing a nightcap and night shirt ran through town, calling the hour.

They first stopped by a huge theater made from dry old pieces of gingerbread. The icing was crumbling around the edges. “Gathering water for Toyland businesses is only our side job,” Jill explained. “We're trying to earn enough money to buy this theater from Pruitt Barnaby.”

Jack nodded, rubbing the back of his head again. “We're actors. We're going to restore the theater and rent it out to the town when we're not performing ourselves.”

Jill sighed. “We play the finest of the classics. I was told I made a wonderful Juliet. They said I put a lot of life into my dying.”

Lisa couldn't help giggling at the line. Even Jack was grinning. “Yes,” Jill began, “we'll need to clean ourselves up a bit and get back up that hill. The water won't fetch itself.”

Maple nodded. “And we have to get these rascals,” she patted Woolie, “into their pen, before they run off on me again.”

They lead the sheep to a pen next-door to one of the thatched-roof cottages. Maple opened the rock candy gate and let the sheep in. Woolie jumped out of her arms and over to her parents, bleating happily. Maple stroked the little black lamb's head. “There's a good girl. Now you stay in your pen and don't go wandering off. I can't afford to lose you again.”

Gil grinned. “Are you going to the Christmas Festival tomorrow night?”

Mr. Eldridge nodded, giving them his big sweet grin. “I wouldn't miss it. You know that's our most important night of the year. It's when Santa comes and picks up our toys to deliver to children all over the world.”

“I thought the elves did that?” Alan asked.

“Oh, Santa's rather limited up there at the North Pole,” Grandpa explained. “The elves do make some toys, but with so many children in the world today, they can't do everything themselves. That's where we come in. The Toyland Toy Factory provides the other half of Santa's order. We make the larger toys, like bikes and wagons and train sets and those new dolls made of celluloid.”

“I'll bet the train set I got from Santa last year came from here!” Alan said with a grin.

“Mother bought it for you from Gimbels',” Lisa corrected him. “It's a Lionel set.”

“Who do you think works with the toy companies and sends them ideas?” Mr. Eldridge took their hands. “I think I'd better get you two up to the Factory. Scott and I are going to be meeting with Mr. Barnaby soon.” The old man made a face. “He wants to shut the Factory down. It's one of the only businesses in town he doesn't own. It's owned by Mother Gloria Goose, who is in charge of the town.”

“Why would he want to shut down the Toy Factory if it helps Santa?” Lisa wanted to know.

“I don't know,” the elderly toymaker admitted, “but it can't be good.” Mr. Eldridge brought them right up to another set of gates. These were guarded by two huge toy soldiers and seemed to be made from candy canes. This time, the soldiers let them through with no fuss.  

Babes In WENNLand, Part 4

The Toyland Toy Factory was even more amazing than Toyland itself. The brick walls were made out of heavy cake and seemed to stretch for miles. Inside, workers, men and women in peasant outfits covered by aprons and tool belts like Grandpa's, worked on long lines of every toy the children had ever see. A young man with big brown eyes and light brown hair worked on a button panel next to a series of the largest gears the children ever saw. They were the size of their entire apartment building back in Pittsburgh!

Every worker was doing something. A huge goose stuffed fluffy cotton into stuffed animals. A pig put the roofs on doll houses. A lady in a yellow dress alternated between attaching cords to bouncing spiders and taking spoonfuls of a mushy-looking white and yellow concoction in a bowl. A boy in a blue jumpsuit tested horns to make sure they w

“Mr. Toymaker! There you are! I'm so glad you've finally arrived. I have so many ideas to discuss with you, sir.” A small, stocky man with silver-streaked ebony hair under his faded navy-blue cap bounded over to them. Lisa swore he looked exactly like Mr. Sherwood. The plump, pink cheeks were streaked with grime, but the grin was still full of mischief, and the big brown eyes twinkled just as merrily. He was dressed like most of the other male workers, in a grease-stained pale blue tunic covered by a battered black apron filled with tools, patched navy leggings, and a tattered navy jacket with worn elbows. Lisa could see a wide red sash under the apron.

A young woman was with him. She wore a simple blue peasant dress with a green and gold cloth bodice. Her apron was blue, too. Her dark brown curls were held back with a green and blue striped ribbon. “Mr. Toymaker!” she exclaimed. In her hurry, one of her brown shoes came off. She grabbed it and jammed it back on her foot as she continued. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Scott, Betty, I'm so glad to see you!” Mr. Eldridge nodded at the children. “Alan, Lisa, this is Scott Piper, my assistant and the second-in-command at the Toy Factory, and Betty Blue, the holiday card writer. He designs many of our best toys and helps keep everything running like clockwork. She writes and prints all the cards we sell for Christmas. Scott and Betty, this is Alan and Lisa Herbert, my grandchildren.”

Scott shook Alan's hand, then bowed for Lisa. “Hello there! Welcome to our fabulous factory, the greatest toy-making facility anywhere! Any grandchildren of our Toymaker are friends of mine.”

Betty smiled. “It's so nice to meet you! We rarely have children visit our factory.”

Scott looked at a large wooden cuckoo clock on the wall. “Oh, would you look at the time? We'll give you kids a tour, after your grandfather and I get through a little meeting.”

“You sent me a message about a meeting,” Mr. Eldridge explained. “Well, who are we meeting with? Do I know them?” Mr. Eldridge beamed hopefully. “Are they bringing treats?”

Scott made a face as he lead them down a long hall decorated with old brownish pictures of people working in the factory. “More than likely, they're bringing an eviction notice. Mr. Barnaby wants to talk to us about selling the factory again.”

“Oh, him.” Mr. Eldridge shook his head. “I wish he'd get it through his head that just because he owns the rest of Toyland doesn't mean he has to own this part, too.”

Betty sighed. “I do, too. He's been after the Factory for years.”

“How can someone own a whole town?” Lisa asked. She didn't like the sound of this Mr. Barnaby when Maple said he'd throw her out of her job, and she liked him even less now.

“Mr. Barnaby is the richest man in Toyland,” Scott told them. “He owns almost every business there is – the sheep yards, the grocery, the old theater, the newspaper, the bakery, the bank, the flower shop. You name it, and he has his finger in all or part of it...except for the Factory. The Factory is owned by the Toymaker, Mother Gloria Goose, and by old Jack, who died a few months ago. It's the House That Jack and Ben built. Mother Goose inherited it from her husband, Ben Gander, who also passed away several months ago. They were lost at sea with my good friend, Victor Be Nimble.”

Betty looked sad. “Victor Be Nimble was my friend, too. He was a good, noble man. I miss him so much. He, Ben, and Jack were taking toys across the sea when their ship went down.”

“Ben Gander and Jack Hubbard were my dearest friends,” Mr. Eldridge said firmly. “I would never sell this place. It would be like selling their memory.”

“I know you wouldn't,” Scott reminded him. “I'm not so sure about Mother Goose. No one has seen her since Father Gander died. It's like she vanished. And we don't know who inherits Jack's part.” The dark-haired foreman rolled his eyes. “That Barnaby is just an old blowhard. He'd never be able to shut us down. Santa wouldn't let him. And anyway, he doesn't scare me! I'll bet I could take him with with one hand behind my back!”

Lisa's eyes widened when their Grandfather opened a door at the end of the hall. The man who sat on the soft chair made of fruitcake was that mean Mr. Pruitt! He was dressed in a fancy black suit with shiny buttons and carried a gold-topped black cane. A black silk top hat was tilted over his perfectly slicked-back dark hair, and his black cravat was pinned with a jewel that looked like a dark star. His tiny, piggy eyes gazed at Scott over his sagging jowls. “You could take whom with one hand tied behind your back, Mr. Piper?” he asked with barely concealed amusement.

Scott looked embarrassed. “Oh, no one.” He and Mr. Eldridge pulled up fruitcake chairs on the other side of the desk. Lisa tugged Alan to two chairs by a wide window that overlooked the gates of the factory.

“You already know why I'm here,” Mr. Barnaby began, “so I might as well come to the point. This factory is old-fashioned and unnecessary. Most children today are busy with all those newfangled devices like film and radio and are growing up at a much faster rate. They have no need for frivolous, useless toys.”

He stood, walking over to the two men and the young woman...but his eyes were entirely on Scott. “Thanks in part to Mr. Piper's efforts, you've now risen to the break-even point, where you're neither a helpful deduction, nor a tidy profit. My recommendation to Mother Goose is that we close the Factory, gain the tax benefits, and build something more useful in its place.”

“But we're holding our own against larger toy companies,” Scott insisted.

“And we don't have their big budgets,” Betty reminded him, “or their huge teams of workers.”

“Don't sell it, Grandpa!” Alan yelled. “He's a mean old man!”

“Alan!” Lisa grabbed his arm. “Mr. Barnaby,” she said timidly, “Alan and Mr. Piper are right. You can't close the factory. What about the people and animals who work here? What about all the little kids who won't get toys?”

Mr. Barnaby glared at them. “Small children should keep out of things that don't concern them. What are you doing in a factory, anyway?”

“They're my grandchildren, Mr. Barnaby,” Mr. Eldridge insisted, “and while I still own part of this factory, they can visit whenever they like!”

Mr. Barnaby stood, tossing his cane from hand to hand. “You're lucky Mother Goose agrees with the children. She wants me to make one last-ditch effort to turn this factory around.” He smirked. “Fortunately, I have a few ideas of my own about how to make toys.”

“You never owned a toy in your life,” grumbled Scott. “Your idea of a toy is an adding machine.”

“You hit the nail on the head.” Mr. Barnaby stood. “From now on, this is the list of toys you will be making. Children have far more need of things to expand their minds than wasteful dolls and figures and cars.”

Scott took the paper. Mr. Eldridge and Miss Betty read over his shoulder. “Adding machines, boot scrapers, picture frames, walking canes...” Scott looked up from the list. “Mr. Barnaby, we can't give these things to Santa! They aren't for children!”

“Neither is this factory.” He sniffed again. “Starting today, there will be no more toys made in Toyland.”

“I won't let you do this!” Mr. Eldridge made a face. “I still own part of this factory, too!””

Scott frowned. “We need to talk this over, Mr. Barnaby. Could you give us an hour?”

“I'll be keeping an eye on your workers. Making sure they do what they're supposed to do.” Mr. Barnaby stood...and as he walked by Betty, he looked her over, like he was looking over a piece of beef. Scott grabbed her arm as he finally left.

“I don't believe this!” Betty groaned.

“Yeah, and neither does he.” Scott growled. “He knows Santa's order is the big money that keeps us going through the rest of the year. If the kids aren't happy with the toys we're making, Santa will cancel his order...and that will cancel us. If Mother Goose won't let him close us down directly, he'll find another way to do it.”

“We're not going to stop making toys!” Mr. Eldridge added.

“Yeah!” Alan shouted. “That Mr. Barnaby is just a bully.”

“Yes, he is.” Scott gathered the other four, including the two children, close to him. “We need to come up with a brilliant plan that will distract him while the rest of the workers continue to make the toys for Santa's order.”

“Too bad there can't be two factories,” Lisa complained. “One for Mr. Barnaby, and one for the rest of Toyland.”

Betty's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. “Lisa, that's a wonderful idea!”

Lisa was just confused. “It is?”

“Yes!” She pulled the circle closer. “Now listen to me...”

Babes In WENNLand, Part 5

Lisa felt nervous. She wanted to help, but she didn't entirely like her role in this. She and Alan were making their way down the hall, followed by Mr. Piper. Mr. Barnaby was watching the workers in a small office overlooking the main factory. The office was filled with buttons and levers and pulleys and tubes. It looked like something from out of the Flash Gordon serials.

She recognized the young man as C.J from the control room at WENN. This time, he wore a green and yellow striped tunic and tighter trousers than Scott. His green apron was splattered with colorful substances. “I'm C.J Grumio,” the young man explained. “I run the controls for all the machines in the factory.” Scott just nodded at him. “I have to go look at the, uh, doll-making machine. It's not putting the heads on the right way. We can't have the dolls looking at their feet.”

Scott turned to Pruitt as C.J darted out the door. “Sir, these lovely children and I” he put his arm around Lisa and Alan, “want to describe to you an idea we had that was so ingenious, so...amazing, it'll change the way we look at toys forever!”

Mr. Barnaby made a face as Scott pulled him away. “Mr. Piper, I'm trying to watch my factory workers. I can't do that and listen to you at the same time.”

“Then why don't you listen to us?” Alan grinned. “What we have to say is really, really important!”

Lisa gulped, then added “It's really...something, sir.” She thought of all those kids out there who might not get presents this year if they didn't help out. “Do it for us kids?”

Scott pulled Mr. Barnaby down the hall to another part of the factory. Mr. Eldridge opened the door for him. “What do you think? They're the best things we ever made, let me tell you! It only took us..” he counted on his fingers, then gave up and continued “well, it took us a long time.”

Lisa stopped so suddenly, Alan ran into her. “Oh, wow!” They'd been lead into what seemed to be a storage room. The room was filled to the brim with the tallest toy soldiers Lisa ever saw. There were old wind-up tin soldiers with pop guns. There were newer plastic soldiers. There were flying aces in small airplanes with propellers that really spun, and even soldiers in a tank the size of a small car. There were cowboy and Indian dolls who carried pop guns and wooden tomahawks. And every single soldier in the room was the size of an actual human. The planes were even pretty close to the size of real planes.

“Holy smokes!” gasped Alan. “There's enough here to play the biggest game of cowboys and Indians ever!”

“How's this for a big idea?” Scott asked with a smirk. “Kids could play with them on their front lawn. They could go for rides on them! The tin soldiers would make great Christmas decorations, too. And who doesn't want their own plane these days?”

“I know I'd like my own plane!” said Alan excitedly. He did, too. A big model plane like the ones Mother sold at Gimbels' was on his Christmas list to Santa this year.

“I'd feel safe if one of those big cowboys or Indians were guarding me,” Lisa added. “Even if they don't move, they'd sure scare off burglars!”

Mr. Barnaby made a face. “They're impractical, Mr. Piper. Surely you know that. Santa would never fit them on his sleigh.”

“Oh, but they have other purposes.” Scott nodded. Alan and Lisa ran to wind up two of them. “Like Lisa said, they make great burglar alarms.” Mr. Eldridge pushed buttons on various cowboys and Indians. “They even move! Want to see 'em?”

Mr. Barnaby made a face. “Not particularly.”

Scott jumped aside as the two soldiers came right at Barnaby. “Piper, call these overgrown tin cans off!”

“Oh, they're just doing their jobs, sir.” Scott grinned and moved to one of the large airplanes. “How'd you like to see one of these fly?”

“I would!” said Alan excitedly.

Mr. Barnaby made a face. “I certainly wouldn't. There isn't enough room in the factory for such horseplay.” He ducked as one of the soldiers raised his bayonets to salute him.

“Oh, but these are fun!” He unlatched the hook holding the airplane on the ground. Alan spun the propeller. Scott leaned over to push some buttons in the plane.

Suddenly, the plane zoomed over everyone's head! Alan let out a yelp of delight. Mr. Barnaby was less thrilled. The plane went right to him, whooshing around his head and bumping into his rear.

“What is it doing?” He tried to jump away from it, but it kept following him.

“Oh dear!” Scott tried to look concerned. “Here, let me get that.” He and the kids chased the airplane all over the stock room. They ran into toys and shelves and each other. They weren't really trying to catch the plane, just make it look like they were.

Mr. Barnaby let out a screech when the plane came right for him! Scott grinned and opened the door. “Let me help you get away from that, sir.”

Lisa remembered what they'd discussed earlier. “Come on, Alan!” Scott Piper and the two toy soldiers followed them as they rushed down the hall.

“Here, sir!” Alan said quickly, holding a door open and doing his best Edward G. Robinson voice. “This will let you escape the coppers quick, see?”

Lisa couldn't help giggling at the wide-eyed mix of horror and annoyance on Mr. Barnaby's face. “Just get me away from that insane flying contraption!”

“Sure!” Scott helped him in the dark room. “We'll hide you in here until we can catch the plane.”

“Thank you!” Mr. Barnaby rushed in, closing the door behind him as fast as he could. That was when they heard a yell, and then several thumps, and then the sound of something sliding down a metal ramp, then someone landing in something that squished and a disgusted groan.

“What was that, Mr. Piper?” Lisa asked.

“No 'Mr.,' please. Scott's fine.” Scott grinned. “That was the second-floor chute for the line to the garbage compactor. Pruitt Barnaby just landed right in yesterday's leftovers and old grease rags. Hopefully, that will chase him off for a while.” He chuckled. “He's lucky we only run the compactor every other day. It was one of C.J's designs. It squashes the garbage together and makes it easier to pick up and carry away.”

Scott lead them back to the control room. Grandpa and C.J were talking about installing a new machine for making toy boats. “Hello there, children!” Mr. Eldridge put his arms around them. “How did it go with the tin soldiers? Aren't they wonderful? I know they don't seem very practical, and tin soldiers aren't as popular as they used to be. I still think they're some of the greatest toys we ever made in this factory!”

“They're so neat, Grandpa!” Alan exclaimed. “And I loved the plane! You should have seen it go after that mean old Barnaby!”

Lisa laughed again. “The look on his face was so funny! I don't think he liked that plane following him around. When it attacked his rear, I thought I was going to bust a seam!”

Scott grinned. “That plane's probably my favorite thing we've made in this factory. And unlike the soldiers, who will probably be used here as security guards, we might actually be able to get those planes on the market. I think you kids aren't the only ones who would love to have a plane that really makes noise and flies on its own.”

“Well, yes,” added Grandpa, “but remember, it's the imagination that counts, not how fancy a toy is.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Scott nodded. “Why don't we go down to the floor and see how Betty's doing with the adding machines?” His cheeky grin spread across his face. “Those 'adding machines' are being made smaller and with prettier colors, to help kids have fun while they learn to count.”

“Mr. Barnaby probably just thinks they're being made for grown-ups,” giggled Alan.

“Boy, is he gonna get a surprise!” added Lisa.

“Scott!” C.J frowned and waved a hand at the window overlooking the workers. “If you're going to get down there, you'd better do it now. Barnaby has emerged, and I think he's trying to ask Betty out again.”

“Again?” Lisa made a face. “Why's he after her?”

Mr. Eldridge shrugged as Scott stormed out of the room. They followed him. “I suppose it's because she's pretty and smart, and he thinks she might be able to work for him cheap if she's his wife. Not only that, but he has the mortgage on the shoe where she lives with her mother, the Widow Gertie Blue. Scott and I rent rooms in the shoe, but it's still not enough to pay the bills.”

“Now this sounds like the soap operas Mother likes.” Lisa followed her grandfather and brother down the hall and to the elevator.

“Yeah, boring,” added Alan. “I don't care about the mushy stuff. I wanna see sword fights.”

Mr. Eldridge pushed the yellow “down” button that looked like a lemon drop. “Well, you may be seeing one if we don't get down there. Scott's very fond of Miss Blue. He doesn't like Pruitt's attentions to her.” The old man shook his head. “I don't like it, either. I wish he'd leave her alone. Not everything belongs to him.”

That was when Lisa got an idea. She saw the two toy soldiers that they'd left standing in the hallway. “Grandpa, what if we had help? I don't think Mr. Barnaby is going to leave on his own.”

“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Eldridge asked her, still pushing buttons.

Lisa tugged at one of the soldiers. “What if we wound the soldiers up again and got them to help us? Mr. Pi...Scott said they're security, right?”

“Yeah!” Alan went over to the other one. “I'll bet they'd get rid of Barnaby fast! He's scared to death of 'em!”

“Well, all right.” Mr. Eldridge helped Alan wind up his. “But they have to go right back into the closet after we're done with them. It's always a good idea to pick up your toys after you're finished playing with them. Even when they're bigger than you are.”

Lisa ducked away as the soldier marched down the hall. She grabbed his hand and lead him to the elevator. Alan came after her with his soldier. Grandpa picked up the plane and followed them.

The door opened...revealing a very surprised little mouse wearing a red and gold elevator operator's uniform. “Down please, sir,” Grandpa said.