p and she was herself wringing wet, but fortunately this was a warm
climate and she did not feel at all cold.

So she sat down in a corner of the coop, leaned her back against the
slats, nodded at the friendly stars before she closed her eyes, and was
asleep in half a minute.

2. The Yellow Hen

A strange noise awoke Dorothy, who opened her eyes to find that day had
dawned and the sun was shining brightly in a clear sky. She had been
dreaming that she was back in Kansas again, and playing in the old
barn-yard with the calves and pigs and chickens all around her; and at
first, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she really imagined she
was there.

"Kut-kut-kut, ka-daw-kut! Kut-kut-kut, ka-daw-kut!"

Ah; here again was the strange noise that had awakened her. Surely it
was a hen cackling! But her wide-open eyes first saw, through the
slats of the coop, the blue waves of the ocean, now calm and placid,
and her thoughts flew back to the past night, so full of danger and
discomfort. Also she began to remember that she was a waif of the
storm, adrift upon a treacherous and unknown sea.

"Kut-kut-kut, ka-daw-w-w--kut!"

"What's that?" cried Dorothy, starting to her feet.

"Why, I've just laid an egg, that's all," replied a small, but sharp
and distinct voice, and looking around her the little girl discovered a
yellow hen squatting in the opposite corner of the coop.

"Dear me!" she exclaimed, in surprise; "have YOU been here all night,
too?"

"Of course," answered the hen, fluttering her wings and yawning. "When
the coop blew away from the ship I clung fast to this corner, with
claws and beak, for I knew if I fell into the water I'd surely be
drowned. Indeed, I nearly drowned, as it was, with all that water
washing over me. I never was so wet before in my life!"

"Yes," agreed Dorothy, "it was pretty wet, for a time, I know. But do
you feel comfor'ble now?"

"Not very. The sun has helped to dry my feathers, as it has your
dress, and I feel better since I laid my morning egg. But what's to
become of us, I should like to know, afloat on this big pond?"

"I'd like to know that, too," said Dorothy. "But, tell me; how does it
happen that you are able to talk? I thought hens could only cluck and
cackle."

"Why, as for that," answered the yellow hen thoughtfully, "I've clucked
and cackled all my life, and never spoken a word before this morning,
that I can remember. But when you asked a que