Dusk had fallen, and the moon was just
rising. They all sat in silence for a time and watched the silver
trail that topped the crests of the waves far out to sea.
"Oh, Button-Bright!" cried the little girl presently. "I'm so glad
you're going to let me fly with you way to town and back tomorrow.
Won't it be fine, Cap'n Bill?"
"Dunno, Trot," said he. "I can't figger how both of you can hold on
to the handle o' that umbrel."
Trot's face fell. "I'll hold on to the handle," said Button-Bright,
"and she can hold on to me. It doesn't pull hard at all. You've no
idea how easy it is to fly that way after you get used to it."
"But Trot ain't used to it," objected the sailor. "If she happened
to lose her hold and let go, it's goodbye Trot. I don't like to risk
it, for Trot's my chum, an' I can't afford to lose her."
"Can't you tie us together, then?" asked the boy.
"We'll see, we'll see," replied Cap'n Bill, and began to think very
deeply. He forgot that he didn't believe the umbrella could fly, and
after Button-Bright and Trot had both gone to bed, the old sailor
went out into the shed and worked a while before he, too, turned
into his "bunk." The sandman wasn't around, and Cap'n Bill lay awake
for hours thinking of the strange tale of the Magic Umbrella before
he finally sank into slumber. Then he dreamed about it, and waking
or dreaming he found the tale hard to believe.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41