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into the air below. "Now, Bob my lad, don't expect a bite too soon," said the
clown, "for fishing is a mortal slow business, but a fine one for thinking, and
all of us must think of a way to get off this island before we're pushed off by
the Uns."
The Cowardly Lion, with his back to the two fishermen, kept a sharp
lookout for the enemy, and all three tried to think. But thinking when you're
hungry is hard work. Besides, there were so many things to distract one's
attention. The sky, as the afternoon advanced, turned a soft and dreamy pink,
and the clouds drifting by were of every shape and color imaginable-green,
purple, amber and gold-and of such marvelous form that each seemed
lovelier than the last. There were castles and tall masted ships, there were
caravans and chariots, and once a white and wonderful Princess waved to the
little boy from the back of a feathery swan. So it was small wonder Notta and
Bob forgot the Uns, and even their fishing lines, blowing gently to and fro in
the soft pink air waves. Then, all at once, Bob's line gave a jerk and had he not
been tied to the tree he would certainly have been pulled off the skyle.
"Oh! Oh!" screamed the little boy in delight, "I've caught something!"
Giving his rod to the Cowardly Lion, who was blinking dreamily at a
wonderful cloud city, the clown ran to help Bob, and hand over hand they
pulled up the line. What do you suppose was on it? A goose-a simply
enormous goose. It was smoking gently as they drew it over the edge.
"Why, it's cooked!" marveled Notta, unfastening the line which had
caught in the bird's legs. And so it was cooked in all its feathers with its head
tucked under its wing.
"Aha, so our goose is cooked, is it?" observed the Cowardly Lion,
sniffing the air hungrily.
"Must have flown too near the sun.
"Well," chuckled Notta, "that I don't pretend to know. Fishing for birds
is strange enough, but catching a cooked goose is almost too good to be true."
"But it is true," exulted Bob, clapping his hands, "and I caught it!" While
the Cowardly Lion watched the two rods, and Bob proudly picked his goose,
Notta ran off in search of water. In a few minutes he came running back with
a bucket full which he had drawn from a small sky well. The bucket, one of the
canvas collapsible kind used in circuses, the clown had fortunately stowed
under his capacious belt. As neither meat nor drink was now lacking, they sat
down under a small tree and dined quite merrily. The Cowardly Lion ate one
half the goose, bones and all, and Notta and Bob finished off the rest.
"It looks," and the clown, rising to take a drink of water out of the
bucket, which he hung on a branch of the tree, "it looks as if the Uns had
forgotten us.
"Maybe," mused the lion, shaking his mane, "but we mustn't forget
them. Have you thought of anything yet?"
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"Not a thing," confessed the clown cheerfully. He turned a dozen
cartwheels, walked a few paces on his hands, and ended up with a somersault
over Bob. "You're a spry one," said the Cowardly Lion admiringly, as the
clown sat down with his back against a tree, as spry a one as I've ever met."
"Thank you," laughed Notta. "If thinking came as easily as cartwheeling
we'd be off this skyle in no time. But now that we're fed and comfortable,
suppose we think again."
"I'd rather fish," said Bob Up promptly.
"Can't we fish a little longer, Notta?"
"Well, there's no harm in it," replied the clown, winking at the Cowardly
Lion, "and as we'll probably have to spend the night here we may as well catch
something for breakfast."
"Try to catch me something uncooked this time, won't you?" asked the
Cowardly Lion, thumping his tail lazily on the ground. "You know I prefer my
food uncooked." Bob smiled a little at this and, moving his rod gently to and
fro, thought about the comical adventures he was having. Notta, with his back
to the tree, was fishing too, and everything was very quiet. All around them
the light was fading, and the clouds turned from pink to a dull gray and
rushed past with an angry sort of sighing. Night was coming on, and soon the
stars began to twinkle above and below the little skyland. Bob had never seen
stars so large nor so bright, but then Bob had never been so close to them
before. He was thinking rather solemnly that it would be fun to catch a star,
when Notta, oppressed by the silence, burst into a merry song:
"A little chocolate cooky man Went calling on a plate. She said, 'Sir, it is
ten o'clock! Why do you come so late?'
'Because I'm made that way,' said he, 'My little china girly, I'm always
choco-late, you see, So how could I come early?
"'And is it not, my darling, Better chocolate than never?' The wee plate
cracked a little smile. 'Oh, sir,' said she, 'you're clever!
" 'And you may call to-morrow-Even though you're choco-late!' But
pshaw! He never came, because That cooky man was ate!"
Bob laughed right out loud, and Notta, who had been trying to make
Bob merry, tossed his cap triumphantly into the air.
"Very good," murmured the Cowardly Lion, waving his tail gently,
"except that last line. 'Was ate.'Isn't that a bit ungrammatical, even for Oz?"
"There you go getting unish," teased Notta. "I guess I can be
ungrammatical in Un."
"Notta! Notta! I've got another bite," screamed Bob, hopping about on
one foot. That finished the argument.
"Hope it's a bite for me," said the Cowardly Lion. Then he gave a little
roar of surprise, for over the edge of the skyle came a dog-as dear and shaggy
a little bow-wow as had ever barked at an ice man. The hook had caught
neatly in its collar and, though it was a little out of breath, it was otherwise
unhurt.
"Well," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, rising on his haunches, "so this is
breakfast? Bob, what do you mean by catching a dog for my breakfast?"
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"Oh, please," whimpered the dog, rolling its soft eyes in terror. "You
wouldn't eat a little fellow who was only out for a walk, would you?" He sat up
and begged so prettily Bob caught him up in his arms and hugged him. "Oh,
Notta, may I keep him? I've never had a dog!"
"Well, now," said the clown, scratching his ear, "I don't see why not."
"Don't keep me," wailed the dog piteously, "for I belong to a little boy on
another star, and he would miss me very much."
"What kind of a dog are you?" gasped the clown, staring at the little
creature. "What do you mean by taking a walk through the sky, and living on a
star?"
"I am a skye terrier," answered the little dog, looking anxiously from
one to the other. "You wouldn't hurt a little fellow like me, would you?"
"But how will you get home?" asked Notta.
"Just throw me back into the air," barked the dog, and licked Bob on the
nose so coaxingly he couldn't bear to refuse, though his heart was heavy at the
thought of losing him.
"I guess that other little boy would miss you, sighed Bob. So, kissing the
shaggy little terrier right on the nose, he dropped him gently over the edge of
the skyle, and as they watched he scampered hurriedly over a cloud and then
along through the sky, as easily as if he had been on land instead of air. He
paused once and looked over his shoulder, then with a joyful bark and wave
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