Mr. Noah smiled and walked across the table towards a little yellow hen.
"Shoo," he cried, as the contrary fowl tried to dodge around a toy
automobile. "Shoo there. You know you can't swim like Mrs. Duck, so why
don't you have some sense and get aboard out of harm's way?"
As he finished speaking, water began to pour over the windowsill, and soon
the nursery floor was ankle deep. Marjorie stood on a chair and, climbing
upon the table, walked over to the Ark. On her way she picked up her rag
doll, Maria Jane, and the little toy automobile.
"Hurry, my dear," cried Mr. Noah, "here comes the water over the edge of
the table."
As it was, Maria Jane was splashed a bit, and so was the automobile before
it was pushed through the narrow doorway, for the Ark was rolling from
side to side in rather a dangerous manner.
"Make everything tight. Close the hatches and the portholes!" commanded
Capt. Noah (for now that they were actually afloat, this seemed the proper
title for him), and in a few minutes it was comfortable and snug inside.
And then, all of a sudden, a big wave carried them over the windowsill and
out into the garden. But it didn't look very much like the garden, for
only the tops of the rose bushes could be seen, and the roses rested on
the water like pond lilies. And then, away sailed the Ark, across the
garden, over the fence, down the road, until it reached an open space.
"The ocean!" cried Mrs. Noah.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Marjorie, "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Noah, I mean it's
Uncle Spencer's meadow. Why, there's Tim! Let's save him!" And Marjorie
ran down to the lower floor of the Ark and commenced to unfasten the door.
"Careful, my dear," cried Capt. Noah. "What are you about?"
"Oh, hurry, Captain," begged Marjorie, "Tim, Uncle Spencer's dog, is in
the water and I want to bring him aboard."
"Here, mates, bring me a life line," shouted Capt. Noah, and in less time
than I can take to tell it the line was thrown to the little dog, who
managed to catch hold of it with his teeth just in time, for the Ark was
going at a tremendous rate of speed.
"Don't haul in too fast," advised Capt. Noah, as his three sons began
pulling in the rope, "or he'll be drawn under the water and smothered
before we can get him aboard."
At last, the little dog was landed safely on the deck. Everybody ran away
from him to avoid getting a shower bath as he shook himself again and
again.
"Well, you've all proved to be brave lifesavers," said Mrs. Noah. "Now
I'll give him some warm milk and dry him by the kitchen fire, or he may
get a severe cold. Goodness knows what would happen if he gave it to the
other animals and they all got to sneezing and coughing at the same time."
And then the good woman took the little dog down into the hold of the Ark,
where the pantry and kitchen were, and he was soon fast asleep by the
stove, none the worse for his wetting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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