Half-Past Seven Stories | Page 9

prisoner--in jail.
He looked out at the Pond. So much water had fallen in it that it was
swelling up like a pouter pigeon, or like the bowl that held the Chinese
Lily, when he dropped pebbles in it.
My, how Duckie the Stepchild must like this weather! There he was
now, and his father and his mother and all his relatives. All just letting
the water run off their backs and having a grand time. But Father
Wyandotte and all his family were sticking pretty close to the coops.
Funny how ducks liked water and chickens didn't, all but the Gold
Rooster on the top of the barn. He never seemed to mind it a bit.
Marmaduke looked for him up in the sky, but he was almost hidden by
the rain and the gray mist, and stood there on his high perch, swinging
from East to North, and back again.
But he grew tired of watching the Gold Rooster, and looked up the
pasture for his friend, the Brook. It wasn't hard to find, for it had grown
so big and stretched almost to the fence-rails now, and was racing along
towards the Pond, growing wider and wider every minute--just like
Marmaduke's eyes.
"Crackey! Sposin' there should be a flood!" exclaimed Jehosophat.
"Wouldn't that be fine!" said Marmaduke.
"Fine!" Jehosophat cried. "What would you do? It might rise an' rise till
the barnyard'd be covered, an' the road an' all the country an' the whole
world."

"Like Noah's flood, you mean?"
"Yes, just like Noah's, only he isn't here to build any ole ark for you to
get on."
"I don't care," said Marmaduke stoutly.
"You don't care!" cried his brother. "Why, you'd drown, that's what
you'd do!"
"No, I wouldn't either--" Marmaduke seemed very sure about
this--"'cause," he started to explain.
"'Cause what?"
"'Cause the Toyman is as good as ole Noah any day," replied the little
boy. "He could build an ark as big as a house, as big as the Church, an'
the ducks'd get on an' the cows an' the horses an'--"
"Yes," interrupted his brother, "but don't you remember--there were
only two of each kind. Now Hal an' Teddy could get on, but White
Boots an' Ole Methusaleh'd have to stay off, an' Rover an' Brownie
could go, but Wienerwurst couldn't--see?"
Marmaduke looked frightened at this--at the very thought of
Wienerwurst, his little doggie, trying to swim around in a terrible flood.
"I'd hide him under my coat," he declared.
"You couldn't get on yourself," Jehosophat insisted, "I tell you an ark
only takes two of each sort of people an' animals an' chickens and
things. Now Mother and Father could go--that's two grown-ups, an'
Hepzebiah an' me, but you an' Wienie would have to swim around in
the water just as long as you could, then go under--way under, too," he
added.
Perhaps he was only teasing, but Marmaduke didn't take it quite that
way. It seemed very serious. Then suddenly he had a bright idea.

"You forgot the Toyman," he shouted, "and that makes another two, for
the Toyman an' I are just alike. Didn't Mother say,--'He's nothing but a
boy.' So I'd sneak Wienie under my coat--if it was ol' Noah's ark--an' if
it was the Toyman's, why he'd let me in anyway."
Jehosophat had no answer at all for this, and all they could do now was
to watch the rain and the Pond and the Brook, but Marmaduke was very
happy picturing to himself the big Ark which the Toyman would build,
and how he would help, and the fine time, too, he and all the animals
would have, living together under the very same roof.
Of course, the rain had to stop some time. It always does in the end.
And on the sixth day the Sun came out jolly and warm again, and the
boys put on their rubber boots and went out to the Pond. They couldn't
get quite as near it as usual, for the edge was almost at the Ducks' house
now, and not so very far from the house of the White Wyandottes, who
seemed to think the end of the world had come, and looked very sad
with their draggled feathers.
For a little while the boys threw sticks in the water. When the dogs had
fetched the sticks they would shake the water from their coats and over
the boys, just like shower baths. It was all very jolly, and I don't know
which the children enjoyed more, throwing the sticks or the nice cool
showers.
But after a while they tired of this, too, and walked up the pasture to
see the Brook.
There it was, racing and romping and tearing along for dear life. It
wasn't clear and silvery now,