“I’m ‘fraid, Shaggy Man,” she said, with a sigh, “that we’re lost!”
“That’s nothing to be afraid of,” he replied, throwing away the core of his apple and beginning to eat another one.”Each of these roads must lead somewhere, or it wouldn’t be here. So what does it matter?”
“I want to go home again,” she said.
“Well, why don’t you?” said he.
“I don’t know which road to take.”
“That is too bad,” he said, shaking his shaggy head gravely. “I wish I could help you; but I can’t. I’m a stranger in these parts.”
“Seems as if I were, too,” she said, sitting down beside him. “It’s funny. A few minutes ago I was home, and I just came to show you the way to Butterfield--”
“So I shouldn’t make a mistake and go there--”
“And now I’m lost myself and don’t know how to get home!”
“Have an apple,” suggested the shaggy man, handing her one with pretty red cheeks.
“I’m not hungry,” said Dorothy, pushing it away.
“But you may be, tomorrow; then you’ll be sorry you didn’t eat the apple,” said he.
“If I am, I’ll eat the apple then,” promised Dorothy.
“Perhaps there won’t be any apple then,” he returned, beginning to eat the red-cheeked one himself.
“Dogs sometimes can find their way home better than people,” he went on; “perhaps your dog can lead you back to the farm.”
“Will you, Toto?” asked Dorothy.
Toto wagged his tail vigorously.
“All right,” said the girl, “let’s go home.”
Toto looked around a minute and dashed up one of the roads.
“Good-bye, Shaggy Man,” called Dorothy, and ran after Toto. The little dog pranced briskly along for some distance, when he turned around and looked at his mistress questioningly.
“Oh, don’t ‘spect ME to tell you anything; I don’t know the way,” she said. “You’ll have to find it yourself.”
But Toto couldn’t. He wagged his tail, and sneezed, and shook his ears, and trotted back where they had left the shaggy man. From here he started along another road; then came back and tried another; but each time he found the way strange and decided it would not take them to the farm-house. Finally, when Dorothy had begun to tire with chasing after him, Toto sat down panting beside the shaggy man and gave up.
Dorothy sat down, too, very thoughtful. The little girl had encountered some queer adventures since she came to live at the farm, but this was the queerest of them all. To get lost in fifteen minutes, so near to her home and in the unromantic State of Kansas, was an experience that fairly bewildered her.
“Will your folks worry?” asked the shaggy man, his eyes twinkling in a pleasant way.
“I s’pose so,” answered Dorothy with a sigh. “Uncle Henry says there’s ALWAYS something happening to me, but I’ve always come home safe at the last. So perhaps he’ll take comfort and think I’ll come home safe this time.”
“I’m sure you will,” said the shaggy man, smilingly nodding at her.
“Good little girls never come to any harm, you know. For my part, I’m good, too; so nothing ever hurts me.”
Dorothy looked at him curiously. His clothes were shaggy, his boots were shaggy and full of holes and his hair and whiskers were shaggy. But his smile was sweet and his eyes were kind.
“Why didn’t you want to go to Butterfield?” she asked.
“Because a man lives there who owes me fifteen cents, and if I went to Butterfield and he saw me he’d want to pay me the money. I don’t want money, my dear.”
“Why not?” she inquired.
“Money,” declared the shaggy man, “makes people proud and haughty. I don’t want to be proud and haughty. All I want is to have people love me, and as long as I own the Love Magnet, everyone I meet is sure to love me dearly.”
“The Love Magnet! Why, what’s that?”
“I’ll show you, if you won’t tell anyone,” he answered, in a low, mysterious voice.
“There isn’t any one to tell, ‘cept Toto,” said the girl.
The shaggy man searched in one pocket, carefully; and in another pocket; and in a third. At last he drew out a small parcel wrapped in crumpled paper and tied with a cotton string. He unwound the string, opened the parcel, and took out a bit of metal shaped like a horseshoe.
It was dull and brown, and not very pretty.
“This, my dear,” said he, impressively, “is the wonderful Love Magnet. It was given me by an Eskimo in the Sandwich Islands--where there are no sandwiches at all--and as long as I carry it every living thing I meet will love me dearly.”
“Why didn’t the Eskimo keep it?” she asked, looking at the Magnet with interest.
“He got tired of being loved and longed for someone to hate him. So he gave me the Magnet and the very next day a grizzly bear ate him.”
“Wasn’t he sorry then?” she inquired.
“He didn’t say,” replied the shaggy man, wrapping and tying the Love Magnet with great care and putting it away in another pocket. “But the bear didn’t seem sorry a bit,” he added.
“Did you know the bear?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes; we used to play ball together in the Caviar Islands. The bear loved me because I had the Love Magnet. I couldn’t blame him for eating the Eskimo, because it was his nature to do so.”
“Once,” said Dorothy, “I knew a Hungry Tiger who longed to eat fat babies, because it was his nature to; but he never ate any because he had a Conscience.”
“This bear,” replied the shaggy man, with a sigh, “had no Conscience, you see.”
The shaggy man sat silent for several minutes, apparently considering the cases of the bear and the tiger, while Toto watched him with an air of great interest. The little dog was doubtless thinking of his ride in the shaggy man’s pocket and planning to keep out of reach in the future.
At last the shaggy man turned and inquired, “What’s your name, little girl?”
“My name’s Dorothy,” said she, jumping up again, “but what are we going to do? We can’t stay here forever, you know.”
“Let’s take the seventh road,” he suggested. “Seven is a lucky number for little girls named Dorothy.”
“The seventh from where?”
“From where you begin to count.”
So she counted seven roads, and the seventh looked just like all the others; but the shaggy man got up from the ground where he had been sitting and started down this road as if sure it was the best way to go; and Dorothy and Toto followed him.
~###~
To get the latest info on new titles from Write On Press
Visit us at:
www.Facebook.com/WriteOn.Press
Don’t forget to ‘Like’ us while you’re there for updates, info and coupons for free e-books!
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends