THE TRIP TO STORY ISLAND
I
“IF only—” whispered Mary Frances to herself, as she closed the book she had been reading, “if only one could find the ‘enchanted island,’ and the ‘hidden treasure of stories’—I wish—I wish the story told how to get there!”
She was sitting on the branches of a tree, which were so bent that they formed a sort of hammocky rocking chair. The tree was close to the bank of the river, and away in the distance the whitecaps of the ocean rolled up and broke upon the beach.
“It’s quite a journey,” said a small voice, “quite a long journey.”
Mary Frances looked all around, but could not find where the voice came from.
“You see, it’s out at sea,” continued the voice; “and only one boat and one passenger a year. What’s more——”
This last was uttered with a deep sigh.
“Why, where are you? Who are you?” asked Mary Frances, springing up.
“Here I am, but I won’t be long,” continued the voice. “You’d better look lively, for I can’t cling to this fence much longer. Besides, I am almost out of element!”
Then the little girl saw a dolphin sitting on the top rail of the fence, holding on with one fin.
“Oh!” she cried, “do you really know where the ‘enchanted island’ is? Will you tell me how to get there?”
“That I will!” said the dolphin. “That I will, if you’ll get me a little of my element first.”
“What is that?” asked Mary Frances.
“Why, you couldn’t live without yours for one minute! I’ll die if I don’t get some soon!”
“Oh, dear, what can it be? Whatever in the world is your element? I don’t want you to die!”
“Be quick!” cried the dolphin, fanning himself with the other fin. “I feel very faint!”
“I’ll get some water!” Stooping quickly, Mary Frances filled her hat. Before she could dash it over him, the dolphin ducked his head into the hatful of water.
“Thank you,” he said, raising his head. “You’re not so dull after all. Water is my element; air is yours.”
“Of course,” said Mary Frances; but she wondered why the dolphin didn’t jump back into the water.
“The reason is that it takes me so long to climb a fence!”
“Oh!” said Mary Frances, although she didn’t see why the dolphin had to sit on a fence to talk.
“So that there’ll be no offense!” said the dolphin, after staring at her for a while; “but to refer to the trip—have you a ticket?”
“Why, no, I don’t think I have.” Mary Frances searched in her pockets, and pulled out some ribbon, a doll’s wig, a thimble, and a piece of paper.
“That’s the ticket!” exclaimed the dolphin, pointing with his fin. “All you need to do is to sign it. Have you a pencil?”
Mary Frances searched again in her pockets, while the dolphin looked on anxiously, but couldn’t find one.
“Well, never mind; just pull out one of my whiskers,” he said. “It will write right well.”
“But I might hurt you!” cried Mary Frances.
“Not if you take that loose one,” he said, pointing with his fin.
Very gently Mary Frances pulled it, and out it came.
“Sign your name!” cried the dolphin excitedly. “Right at the end of the paper!”
“Excuse me,” said Mary Frances; “my father says that no one should ever sign a paper without reading it.”
“That’s good reading!” said the dolphin. “Read it!”
And Mary Frances read:
Good forOne First Class PassagetoStory IslandI Believe in All Good Fairies.Signed ———No. 1,234,567.
Good forOne First Class PassagetoStory Island
I Believe in All Good Fairies.Signed ———No. 1,234,567.
“Of course, I’ll sign that!” said Mary Frances, gravely using the dolphin’s whisker.
At that, the dolphin fell over with a great splash into the water.
“Oh!” screamed Mary Frances, “you’ll be drowned!” But, just at that moment, up came the dolphin’s head out of the water.
“My element!” he said. Then Mary Frances laughed to think how soon she had forgotten.
“Hold your ticket and wait right where you are!” the dolphin called out, swimming away.
Mary Frances watched the splashing tail and shining back flashing in the sun. Two or three times he leaped playfully in the air, turned somersaults in the water, and then disappeared from sight in the little cove near the mouth of the river.