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Stories ,<? QZ
By L. Frank Baum <91 THB wind blevr hard and Jog gled th? water of the ocean, sending ripplea acroaa Ita surface. Then the wind pushed the edges of the ripplea until they became waves, and shoved tbe wavea around until they became billows. lbe billowa rolled dread fully high?higher even than the tops of houses. Some of them, indeed, rolled aa high aa the topa of tall trees, and aeemed like mountains, and the gulfs between the great billowa were like deep valleys. All thla mad dashing and splashing of the waters of the big ocean, which the mischievous wind caused without any good reason whatever, resulted in a terrible storm, and a storm on the ocean is liable to cut many queer pranks and do a lot of damage. ? * * * At the time the wind began to blow a ship was sailing far out-upon the waters. When the waves began to tumble and toss and to grow bigger and bigger the ship rolled up and down, and tipped sidewise?Orat one way and then the other?and waa Jostled around so roughly that even tha sailormen had to hold fast to the ropes and railings to keep them selves from being swept away by the wind or'pitched headlong Into tbe aea. ~ And the clouds were so thick in tbe aky that the sunlight couldn't get through them; so tliat the day grew dark as night, which added to the terrors of the storm. , The captain of the ship was not afraid, because he hud seen storms before, and had sailed his ship through them in safety; but he knew that his passengers would be In dan ger It they tried to stay on deck, so he put them all Into the cabin and told them to stay there until after the storm waa over, and to keep brave hearts and not be scared, and all would be well with them. ; Now, aipong these passengers was a little Kanaaa girl named Dorothy Gala, .who waa going with her Uncle Henry to Australia to visit some rel atives they had never before seen. Uacle Henry, you must know, was not very well, because he had been working so hard on his Kansas farm that hie health had given way and left him weak and nervous. So he left Aunt Km at home to watch after the hired men and <o take care of tha farm, while he traveled far away to Australia to vlait his cousins and have a good rest. Dorothy waa eager to go with him oa this Journey, and Uncle Henry thought she would be good company and help cheer him up; so he de cided to take her along. The little girl was quite an experienced trav eler, for she had once been carried by a cyclone as far away from home ss the marvelous l.and ftf Ox, and she had met with a good many ad ventures in that strange country be fore she managed to get back to Kansas again. So she wasn't easily frightened, whatever happened, and when the wind began to howl and whistle and the waves began to tumble and toss our little girl didn't mind the uproar the least bit. ? * * * "Of course we'll have to stay in the cabin," she said to Uncle Henry and the other passengers, "and keep as quiet as possible until the storm is over. For the captain says If we go on deck we may be blown over board." No one wanted to risk such an ac cident aa that, you may be sure; so all the passengerB stayed huddled up in tbe dark cabin, listening to the shrieking of the storm and the creaking of the maats and rigging and trying to keep from bumping Into one another when the ship tip ped sidewise. Dorothy had almost fallen asleep when the was aroused with a start to find that Uncle He*nry was miss ing. She couldn't imagine where he had gonn, and ss he was not very strong she began to worry about him, and to fear he might have been careless enough to go on deck. In that caae he would be in great danger unless he instantly came down again. The fact waa that Uncle Henry had gone to lie down in his little sleeping berth, but Dorothy did not know that, bhe only remembered that Aunt Em l.ad cautioned her to take good care of her uncle, so at once she decided to go on deck and find him, in spite of the fact that the tempest was now worse than ever, and the ship was plunging in a really dreadful manner. Indeed, the little girl found it was as much as she could do to mount the stairs to the deck, and as soon as she got there the wind struck her .so fiercely that It almost tore away the atflfta of her dregs, y^t Dorothy, f^lt a aart of Joyous excitement In defy-, The Girl in the Chicken Coop DOROTHY AFLOAT EN THE HEX COOP. Ing the storm, and while she held fast to the railing she peered around through the gloom and thought she saw the dim form of a man clinging to a mast not far away from her. This might be her uncle, so she called as loudly as she could: "Uncle Henry! Uncle Henry! 1 But tha wind screeched and howled so madly that she scarce heard her own voice, and the man certainly failed to hear her, for he did not move. Dorothy decided she must go to him; so she made a dash forward, during a lull In the storm to where a big square chicken coop had been lashed to the deck with ropes. She readied this place In safety, but no sooner had she seized fast hold of the slats of the big box In which the chickens were kept than the wind, as if enraged be cause the little girl dared to resiRt its power, suddenly redoubled itB fury. With a scream like tliat of an angry giant It tore away the ropes that held the coop and lifted ti high into the air, with Dorothy still clnglng to the slats. Arbund and over it whirled, this way and that, and a few mo menta ater thel chickcn coop dropped far away Into the sea, where the big waves caught it and slid it up hill to a foaming crest and then down hill into a deep valley, as if it were noth ing more than a plaything to keep them amused. * * * * Dorothy had a good ducking, you may be sure, but she didn't loose her presence of mind even for a second. She kept tight hold of the stout slats and as soon as-she could get the water out of hec eyes she saw that the wind had ripped the cover from the coop, and the poor chickens were fluttering away in every direction, being blown by the wind until they looked like feather dusters without handles. The bottom of the coop was made of thick boards, so Dorothy found she was clinging to a sort of raft, with sides of slats, which readily bore up her weight. After coughing the water out of her throat and getting her breath again, she managed to climb over the slats and stand upon the firm wooden bottom of the coop, which supported her easily enough. SITTING IN WITH JIMMIE (Continued from Third Page.) hlrn all them years when they was savin* and plannin' together?good naturod. cheerful, full of sand. A clean-cut. wholesome, level-headed woman she seems now, with more pep and fun in her than ever. Jimmy's momin' appetite didn't appear to ue quite bo keen as he'd bragged. Now and then he'd throw a skittish look out toward the corridor. They got through their business talk while Kannie was flnishin' her plate of strawberries and cream and Jimmy was down in' his second cocktail. "I'll tell you, Jimmy," she says, "you'd much better turn over your holdings to me, for there's a minority crowd in there that's planning to put something over on us. I know their game and can block it. I'll pay on yesterday's closing quotations, what over those were. That right? Then Just write out something to that ef fect and we'll call It settled." He was busy with his fountain pen when there came this burst of high squealy giggles and I looked up to see a mixed quartet of four bearing dowr. on us. They were a good deal of the kind you'd expect to see in the Plu toria's Pink Grill?the men of the lounge lisard type, and the girls good runnln' mates for 'em. The one in the lead is a slim, big eyed, pert specimen of the squab fam ily. Her complexion Is a little too vivid for daylight exhibition, but I expect she'd put the make-up on in kind of a hurry. Her permanent hair wave had stood the test of a short night's sleep, however, and her shaved eyebrows hadn't been rumpled at all. She's dressed fancy and frilly, too. The curved feather on her hat must have stood up two feet in the back. Also her fingers sparkled like a pawn broker's window. You could guess that she was a warm baby, all right. "Hello!" says I. "Some cabaret must have let out late." At which Jimmy glances up. I could see his mouth corners drop and his eyes go starey. But he didn't have time to say a word. Next thing I knew the saucy young thing had tripped right up and was rumplln' ? his hair. ? , ,? ,, . "Old Pokey!',' says. she. i "Go t that last night's grouch with you still? What do I care if you have! Ferdy's going'to take me out to Primrose Inn, even If you won't, and?Oh! Who's all this?" She hadn't taken much notice of me, but when she spots Fannie it's a different matter. She was givln' her the once over and repeat. Also, It was up to Jimmy to separate him self from a few remarks. 'There, there, rieryl!" Hays he peev ish. "Didn't I tell you I had a busi ness engagement?" "Did you, Jimmy, boy?" says she. "And did you think I'd fall for it? Come now. Open up. Who's the lady?" If Jimmy could think as quick as he can talk loud he might have passed it ofT graceful. But the thing being batted up to him so sudden that way he kind of got his conversation works gear-bound. And after he'd made some gurgly noises that din't convey much of anything Fannie comes to his rescue. "I am Mrs. Fincke," says she, smilin'. "The devil you are!" says the other, in her pouty, impetuous manner. "I like that, I must say?not." ? And as It seemed to be my turn, I puts in: "Mrs. Fincke, No. 1." "Oh!" It comes from Beryl's rouged lips explosive. "Why?why, Jimmy has always let on that you were??? But he always was a good liar. Hey, Jimmy, whaddye mean by that stuff? lih?" The shake she was giving him was more than playful. "And you?" asks Fannie. "May I ask " "Sure you can." breaks In Beryl. "I'm Mrs. Jimmy Fincke myself." "Really"' Fannie takes It without a quiver. "I'ardon me for being so stupid. I?I might have guessed he would. Rut he hadn't mentioned it, you see." "He's a great little forgetter when he tries. Eh, Jimmy boy?" and once more she rumples his hair. I wish Jimmy hadn't been starln' so dazed all the time. It might have done him good if he could have seen the two of 'em side by side, as I Raw 'em. But then, maybe, his view would have been different. I must say that to me Beryl looked mighty cheap and flashy when stacked up against Fannie. . ?i ? ? ( About then th? ,trio In the back ground, who couldn't have had any hint as to what the chatter was all about, got impatient. "I say, Beryl," calls one of the young gents with a shadow mustache and slick hair, "how about getting started?" Beryl don't even turn around. She glances once at Jimmy and then gives Fannie another shrewd stare. "Nothing doing, Ferdy. Run along," she tells him. "I'm going to stick around." "Oh, but you mustn't let me inter fere with your plans," put in Fannie. "Jimmy and I are all through with our business. Did you sign it, Jim my? Then that's all and I must be going. I've heaps of shopu'ng to do before I start back for the farm. And its been?or?interesting to meet you?Mrs. Fincke." "I expect it has?" sneers Beryl. "And I hope I haven't spoiled any party," adds Fannie. "You must go right ahead." "Thanks," says Beryl, slippin' Into the chair the other was lcavin'. "I'll stick around." I expect she did, too. There was that kind of look in her eyes. But I ain't sure. It seemed to me a swell time to be alidin' out myself. Which I did. This triangle stuff may be all right to watch on a movie screen, but I don't care for It as an accompani ment to lunch. (Oopjrlffbt, 1919, by McClure Rjrndlcnte.) Sailoring in Turkey. a N admiral said at a dinner in New York: "It's no wonder that the Turkish navy failed to do much In the war. The Turks were never a maritime people. "The story goes, In fact, that when they came to set up a navy In Turkey they were very much embarrassed by the shortage of naval words In their language. They had no word for main sail, no word for fore-top-gallant, no word for poop, and so on. "To get over the difficulty, the Turks tied different articles?vege tables and the like?to the dlfTorent sails and ropes, and the men learned their duties to such commands as: " 'Hoist the potato!' " 'Now then, my hearties, let go the tomato with a will!" "'Down with the onion! Down with her!" " 'A<1 hands aloft to reef the beef steak!' " - , ? ? "Why. I've g? t a ship of my own. she thought, more amused than frightened at her sudden change or condition; and then. a? the coop climbed up to the top of a big wave, she looked eagerly around for tlie Bhlp from which she had been blown. It waa far, far away by this time. Perhaps no one on board had yet missed her or knew of her strange adventure. Down Into a valley be tween the waves the coop swept her, and when she climbed another crest the ship looked like a ioy boat, it was such a Ions way off. Soon It had entirely disappeared In the gloom, and then Dorothy gave a sigh of regret at parting with Uncle Henry and began to wonder what waa going to happeu to her next Just now she was tossing on the bosom of a big ocean, with nothing to keep her afloat but a miserable wooden hen coop that had a plank bottom and slatted sides, through which the water constantly splashed and wetted her to the skin! An<^ there was nothing to eat when she became hurgry?as she was sure t? do before long?and no fresh water to drink and no dry clothes to put on. "Well," I declare!" she exclaimed, with a laugh. "You're In a pretty^ fix. Dorothy Gale, X can tell you! And I haven't the least Idea how you're going to get out of it!" As if to add to her troubles, th^ night was now creeping on. and the gray clouds overhead changed to, inky blackness. But the wind, aa If satisfied at last with its mischievous pranks, stopped blowing this oceatt and hurried away to another part of the world to blow something else; so that the waves, not being Joggled any more, began to quiet down and behave themselves. * * * * It was lucky for Dorothy. I think, that the storm subsided; otherwise, brave though she was, I fear she might have perished. Many children, in her place, would have wept and given way . to despair, but bccauso^ Dorothy had encountered so many ad-, ventures and come safely through, them it did not occur to her at this time to be especially afraid. She wa.^ wet and uncomfortable, it is true; bufc^ after sighing that one sigh I told yoti of, she managed to recall some of heR. customary cheerfulness and decided tw patiently await whatever her fat?' might be. By and by the black clouds rolled away and showed a blue sky over head, with a silver moon shining sweetly in the middle of It and littla stars winking merrily at Dorothy, when she looked their way. The cooj did not toss around any more, but rode the waves more gently?almo?t like a cradle rocking?so that tne floor upon which Dorothy stood wai no longer swept by water coming through the slats. Seeing this, and being quite cxhausti; ed by the excitement of the past fo^p hours, the little girl decided that sleep would be the best thin* to re? store her strength and the easiest way In which she could pass the time. The floor was damp and she was her? self wringing wet. but fortunately thtai was a warm climate and she did not feel at all cold. So she sat down In it corner of the coop, leaned her baclt against the slats, nodded at the friend ly stars before she closed her eyes* and was asleep In half a minute. (Copyright, 1910, by L. Frank Blum, for.Ore. Matthew A Jams Service.) A Fall From Honor. ellt THOMAS I.IPTON spoke to * Y. M. C. A. address in New York about honor among business men. . y. "Too many business men," he salA^ "fall from honor thoughtlessly. They are like an eminent divorce lawyer whom I overheard one night prattling over his whisky and soda at thv club. "'Yes,' said the lawyer, 'she's a verjf beautiful woman. Nervous, of course ?of course, very nervous just now. 80 I said to her gently, as soon as I'd sent my secretary out of the room, "Now, my dear lady, I know in these divorce cases there are many little de tails which a woman of your posi tion and refinement is most reluciant to divulge. But it Is necessary, If our case Is to succeed, that I be fully acquainted with all you have had to suffer. Of course you will understand that what you tell me will never go beyond the four walls of this room. I shall regard your confidence as ab solutely sacred and you need have no hesitation In revealing all. for you may be sure that no other human being will ever learn from me the details of your troubles." Well, 1 that gave her more confidence, of 1 course) and, gentlemen, this Is what, she toifl me."'