Dick, Marjorie and Fidge | Page 2

the house.
"Let's go and see what's up!" said Dick promptly.
"Me too," said a shrill treble voice, and a little curly-headed apparition came running out of the bedroom, flourishing a wooden spade.
"No! you cut along into bed again, Fidge," cried Dick.
"Want to go and see the bur-ge-lers!" declared Fidge, pushing past them, and racing down the stairs.
"Come back, you scamp," cried Dick, running after him; but with a saucy and defiant laugh Fidge sped down to the first landing.
"Ooh!" he cried, looking over the banisters, "It's all drownded; look, Dick! quick!"
Dick and Marjorie hurried down and leaned over the banisters too.
"Hullo! what a lark!" exclaimed Dick. "There's been a high tide, and the house is flooded. Come on, this is ripping!" and the boy dashed down-stairs, followed by the others.
The breakfast-room door stood open, and, wading ankle deep in water, the children soon reached it. An extraordinary sight met their eyes.
The French windows were open, and the curtains were blowing about in the breeze, while the sea had risen so high that the white-capped waves were flowing quite into the room, in which the utmost confusion prevailed. Chairs and various light articles were strewn about in all directions, and the table, by some mysterious process, had been turned completely over, and was floating about with its legs sticking up in the air. It was evidently the noise which that had made, dashing against the door, which had awakened Marjorie.
[Illustration: "The waves were flowing into the room."]
The children stood silently regarding it for a moment, and then Fidge, with a delighted exclamation cried, "I want a ride in the boat," and began to scramble into the overturned table.
"Oh! yes, jolly!" cried Dick, following his example; and in a moment all three children were comfortably ensconced in the novel craft.
Dick found a stick floating about, which he used as a punting pole, and soon had the table through the window and out into the garden.
"I'll be captain," he cried, "and you and Fidge shall be passengers, Sis." The drawer of the table turned upside down made a capital upper deck, and Marjorie settled herself very comfortably upon it, after Dick had rigged up what he was pleased to call an awning with a little table-cloth, and a piece of string which he had in the pocket of his pyjamas.
Fidge, however, had no idea of remaining inactive, and insisted upon taking a part in the management of the craft, and so Dick made him the "Bosun," and set him to work rowing with his little wooden spade.
Out in the garden the water became deeper, and Captain Dick's pole would not reach the bottom; still, owing to some mysterious influence, their curious boat drifted merrily on, and the children did not puzzle themselves in the least as to the cause of their progress. It was quite enough for them to notice how strange and unnatural the gardens and all the familiar surroundings appeared in their present inundated state. The rosebushes and hedges looked so funny, growing out of the water, and there were such a lot of curious things floating about--a hen-coop, a wash-tub, and an old hamper had hurried past; and their boat had drifted as far as the gate leading out into the roadway, when Marjorie jumped up and pointed excitedly to something floating rapidly towards them.
"Look! Dick, look! there's an old turkey on a chair coming along."
As the object drew nearer, however, they could see that it was not a turkey, or, indeed, any bird with which they were familiar, but a most curious-looking creature. It had an oddly-shaped beak, webbed feet, and a funny great tuft of feathers for a tail.
"Why, the thing has gloves on!" cried Captain Dick.
"And a blue bow around its neck," chimed in Fidge, his eyes dancing with excitement.
"Ship ahoy!" shouted the bird, as it came close up to the table.
"Good gracious! Why it can talk," said Marjorie.
"Talk! Of course I can," answered the bird. "Why not, pray?"
"Well, birds don't generally talk, except parrots," added Marjorie, as an afterthought.
"Parrots!" exclaimed the bird, stamping furiously on the seat of the chair; "I hate 'em--nasty, showy, pretentious, ill-bred creatures; regular shrieking hypocrites, that's what I call 'em."
"What sort of a bird are you, then?" asked Dick.
"I'm a Dodo," said the creature, with a consequential air.
"Oh! then you are extinct," said Dick. "I read it in a natural history book."
"Yes, I am," admitted the Dodo. "It's lovely being extinct," he added, complacently. "Have you ever tried it?"
"Good gracious, no," cried Dick.
"What does it mean, Dick, dear?" whispered Marjorie, who didn't like to appear ignorant.
"Gone out, I think," explained Dick. "Anyhow, they say a volcano is extinct when it has gone out."
"Yes, that's quite right," explained the Dodo, with a wink. "Haven't you ever heard the vulgar expression, 'Does your mother