Sky Island

d was covered with pretty green vines, a woman came to the door to meet them. She seemed motherly

" explained the girl. "He li

to his upturned face. "I don't believe he's had a bi

aid Butt

'-butter," commanded Mrs. Griffith. "Cut '

" asked Trot,

'-butter's good enough when you're hungr

n't wait a whole hour, I'm sure. What are you grinning at, Cap'n Bill? How dare you la

said Cap'n Bill

ght, and her tone changed to one of much gentleness as she said, "Come in the house, m

tton-Bright, holding

he rack behind th

ned. "I-I'd rather keep it with

s to let it go. Guess he's afraid he'll lose it, but it ain't any great shakes, to my notion. Why,

ay look a heap better, sir, but-I

Trot, appearing just then wi

tween bites. "This umbrella has been in our family years, an' years, an' years. But

re all seated in the vine-shaded porch of the cottage-all but Mrs. Griffith, who had gone into the kitchen to look af

t-great-grandfathers was a Knight-an Arabian Kni

imed Trot. "Why, that was

s ain't the same night you mean. Soldiers used to be called knights, but that were in the dark

Arabian Knight,"

n't he? The lad's gran'ther were prob'ly a furriner, an' yours an' mine were, t

Didn't I tell you, Button-Bright,

and-butter and then looking at the empty plate with a sigh. "But if he really knows ever

, eager eyes. "Did you say M

a till I found it out for myself. You're the first people I've told

ing her hands in ecstacy. "It must be

'round loose in the world. That was in the Dark Ages, I guess, when the magic Arabian Nights was. But the light o

rot reflectively. She didn't like to con

nd I know there's magic still in t

it!" begged the

las in our house were carried out by the family and lost or mislaid or something, so that when I wanted to go to Uncle Bo

t. "Do you hav

up in the attic, and pretty soon I found in a corner this old umbrella. I didn't care how it looked. It was whole and strong and big, and would keep me from getting wet on the way to Uncle Bo

t I held on tight to the handle, and it didn't pull very much, either. I was going pretty fast, for when I looked down all the big buildings were sliding pa

alone. He said it was a fam'ly relic that had been handed down from father to son for many generations. But I told him my father had never handed it to me, though I'm his son. Uncle Bob said our fam'ly always believed that it brought 'em good luck to own this umbrella. He couldn't say why, not knowing its early history, but he was afraid that if I lost the umbrella, bad luck would happen

r I went, just as soon as I said it, and the umbrella sailed so fast that I felt as if I was in a gale of wind. It was a long, long trip, and I got awful tired holding onto the handle, but just as I th

Trot. Cap'n Bill kept on

Button-Bright. "It surely cou

ot, "the umbrella can

try it I said 'Take me to Chicago.' I didn't want to go to Chicago, but that was the first place I thought of, and I soon saw this was going to be another long journey, so I called out to the umbrella, 'Never mind. Stop! I guess I won't go to Chicago. I've changed my mind, so take me home again.' But the umbrella wouldn't. It kept right on flying, and I shut my eyes and held on. At last

urse not,"

the morning I tried to get the umbrella to give me a magic breakfast, but it won't do anything but fly. I went to a house and asked a woman for something to eat,

ad, it takes three or four days for the railr

r, but no one there would give me any lunch. A policeman said he'd put me in jail if he caught me begging, so I got away and told the umbrella to take me to the Paci

"If that isn't a fairy s

and the funny part of it is, it's true. I hope you believe me, but I don

ord of it!" declar

"I'm goin' to believe it, too, by'm'b

t it's pretty late in the day, and Philadelphia is a good way off.

oom with a nice bed in it, and we'd love to have you sta

nodding his bald head. "Whether the umbrel

te for the good things Trot's mother had cooked. Mrs. Griffith was very kind to the children, but not quite so agreeable toward poor Cap'n Bill. When the old sailorman at one time spilled some tea on the tablecloth, Trot's mother flew angry and gav

of yarn, and Mrs. Griffith was so provoked that Trot's scolding was almost as severe as that of Cap'n Bill. Tears came to the little girl's eyes, an

t had helped with the dishes, she joined Button-Bright and the sailorman on the little porch again. Dusk had fallen, and the moon w

"I'm so glad you're going to let me fly with you way t

figger how both of you can hold

t, "and she can hold on to me. It doesn't pull hard at all. You'v

ed to lose her hold and let go, it's goodbye Trot. I don't like

s together, then

th gone to bed, the old sailor went out into the shed and worked a while before he, too, turned into his "bunk." The sandman wasn't around, and Cap'n Bill lay awake for hou

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