The Greatest Adventure Books for Children. Люси Мод Монтгомери

wings is duplicated in this machine. But instead of being animated by life, I have found it necessary to employ electric batteries and motors. Perhaps the bird isn't exactly as good as a real bird, but it will fly all right, as you shall see when I take you for a ride in it."

      He then allowed John to enter the tiny room in the body of the bird, which was just big enough to allow two to sit close together. And in front of the seat were various push-buttons and a silver lever, by means of which the flight of the machine was controlled.

      "It is very simple," said Imar, proudly. "Even Chick could guide the machine, if properly instructed. The only fault of the invention is that the wings are too light to be strong, and that is why I do not take very long trips in it."

      "I understand," answered John. "It's quite a distance to the ground, if anything happened to break."

      "True," acknowledged Imar, sadly; "and I do not wish to break my neck before I am able to make a bigger and better machine."

      "That is not to be wondered at," said John. Then he thanked the inventor and followed Chick down the winding stairs and through the halls until they again reached their own room, where they sat and talked until darkness came and drove the Incubator Baby to its snowy couch. As for the gingerbread man, he never required sleep or rest; so he sat quietly in a chair and thought of many things until a new day dawned.

      By morning the rain had ceased and the sun arose in a blue sky and flooded the Isle with its warm and brilliant rays. The Incubator Baby was so happy this pleasant day that it fairly danced away to get its regular breakfast of milk and oatmeal.

      But John Dough's little friend was back at his side before long, and together they went hand in hand through the halls of the castle to the throne-room of the kinglet.

      They found his Majesty already seated in the throne, with the fat Nebbie asleep at one side of him and the girl executioner carefully sharpening her sword on the other side.

      "This is my busy day," said the kinglet, nodding graciously to Chick and the gingerbread man. "There are too many useless people in my kingdom, and I'm going to kill off some of them. Sit down and watch the flash of the executioner's sword."

      Then he turned to his guards and commanded:

      "Bring in the General."

      Immediately they ushered before the kinglet a soldierly man clothed in a gorgeous uniform. His head was erect and his countenance calm and set. The eyes seemed dull and listless, and he walked stiffly, as if his limbs were rheumatic.

      "Sire, I salute you!" the General exclaimed, in a hollow voice. "Why am I brought before you as a prisoner—I, the hero of a hundred battles?"

      "You are accused of being foolish," said the kinglet, with a broad grin upon his freckled face.

      "Sire, at the battle of Waterloo—"

      "Never mind the battle of Waterloo," interrupted his Majesty. "I am told you are scattered all over the world, as the result of your foolishness."

      "To an extent, Sire, I am scattered. But it is the result of bravery, not foolishness." He unstrapped his left arm and tossed it on the floor before the throne. "I lost that at Bull Run," he said. Then he unhooked his right leg and cast it down. "That, Sire, was blown off at Sedan." Then he suddenly lifted his right arm, seized his hair firmly, and lifted the head from his shoulders. "It is true I lost my head at Santiago," he said, "but I could not help it."

      John was astonished. The old general seemed to come to pieces very easily. He had tucked the head under his right elbow, and now stood before the kinglet on one foot, presenting a remarkably strange appearance.

      His Majesty seemed interested.

      "What is your head made of?" he asked.

      "Wax, your Majesty."

      "And what are your legs made of?" continued the kinglet.

      "One is cork, Sire, and the other—the one I am now standing on—is basswood."

      "And your arms?"

      "Rubber, my kinglet."

      "You may go, General. There is no doubt you were very unwise to get so broken up; but there is nothing left for the Royal Executioner to do."

      The girl sighed and felt the edge of her blade; and the old general replaced his head, had his leg and arm again strapped to his body by the guards, and hobbled away after making a low bow before the throne.

      Just then a great noise of quarrelling and fighting was heard near the doorway, and while all eyes were turned toward the sound, a wooden Indian sprang into the hall, waving a wooden tomahawk over his head, and uttering terrible war-whoops.

      Following him came a number of the Brotherhood of Failings, trying to capture the Indian. The Awkward tripped up and fell flat on his face; the Unlucky got in the way of the tomahawk and received a crack on the head that laid him low; the Blunderer was kicked on the shin so violently that he howled and limped away to a safe distance. But just before the throne the Disagreeable, the Bad-Tempered, and the Ugly managed to throw a rope about the Indian's arms and bind them fast to his body, so that he ceased to struggle.

      "What's the trouble?" asked the kinglet.

      "Sir," said the Indian, proudly; "once I had the honor to be a beautiful sign in front of a cigar store, and now these miserable Failings dare to insult me."

      "He claims his name is Wart-on-the-Nose," answered the Disagreeable, "and any one can see there is no wart at all on his nose."

      "So we decided to fight him," added the Ugly.

      "And he dared to resist," said the Bad-Tempered.

      "I am a great chief," the Indian declared, scowling fiercely. "I am made of oak, and my paint is the best ready-mixed that can be purchased!"

      "But why do you claim your name is Wart-on-the-Nose?" asked the kinglet.

      "I have a right to call myself what I please," answered the Indian, sulkily. "Are not white girls called Rose and Violet when they have not that color? John Brown was white and Mary Green was white. If the white people deceive us about their names, I also have a right to deceive."

      "Now, by my—my—my—" The kinglet jabbed the fat man with his sceptre.

      "Halidom!" yelled Nebbie, with a jump.

      "By my halidom!" said the kinglet, "I will allow no one in my kingdom to tell an untruth. There being no wart on your nose, you must die the death! Executioner, do your duty!"

      The Failings tripped up the Indian so that he fell upon his face, and then the girl advanced solemnly with her sword.

      Three times she swung the glittering blade around her head, and then she glanced at the kinglet and said:

      "Well!"

      "Well, what?" asked his Majesty.

      "Isn't it time to change your mind?"

      "I'm not going to change my mind in this case," said the kinglet. "Chop off his head!"

      At this the girl screamed and drew back.

      "Do you really mean it?"

      "Of course."

      "Oh, your Majesty, I couldn't hurt the poor thing!" sobbed the Executioner. "It would be simply awful! Please change your mind, as you always have done."

      "I won't," said the kinglet, sternly. "You do as I tell you, Maria Simpson, or I'll have you executed next!"

      The girl hesitated. Then she took the sword in both her hands, shut her eyes, and