The Greatest Adventure Books for Children. Люси Мод Монтгомери

well, John Dough," said the Cherub, getting up to go to the Princess, "I suppose you can do as you please about feeding yourself to your friends; but if I was gingerbread you can just bet I wouldn't be so stingy with myself!"

      Left alone, John sighed and wondered if it was really his duty to sacrifice his left hand to save the frail little girl and restore her to strength and health. He wanted to be kind and generous, yet the very thought of being eaten filled him with horror.

      Presently he left the tree house and wandered along the coast. Chick's rebuke disturbed him not a little, and he wanted time to think it over. So by and by, when he thought he was alone, he sat down upon a rock and tried to decide what to do. Suddenly a low rustle disturbed him, and he looked up to see the brown bear squatting beside him.

      "Where's the Princess?" asked Para Bruin.

      "Aren't you a good way from your mountain?" inquired John, instead of answering the question.

      "Yes, I don't often stray so far," was the reply, "but I had an idea of calling on the Princess. Where is she?"

      "She's sick to-day," said the gingerbread man.

      "That's bad," declared the bear, shaking his head sadly. "She seems to be failing every day. Poor little Princess!"

      John moved uneasily, for every word was a reproach to him.

      "How are you getting on with the Mifkets?" asked Para Bruin.

      "They made me a prisoner this morning, and abused me shamefully," said the gingerbread man. "See here!" and he held up the stump of his left hand.

      "What has become of your fingers?"

      "A black Mifket named Ooboo bit them off and ate them," was the answer.

      "That's curious," said the bear, rubbing his nose thoughtfully with one paw. "Do you know, the Mifkets had an exciting time an hour ago? I watched them from my mountain, and saw everything. Black Ooboo had a fight with the King and knocked him off his rock. That's really surprising, for Ooboo has always before been a coward, and afraid of the King. But now he has declared he'll be king himself, and offers to fight any one who opposes him. Isn't that funny? I don't know where Black Ooboo got so much courage and strength all of a sudden, I'm sure."

      "I know," said John. "He got it from my fingers, which he ate. My dough is mixed with the Great Elixir, you know, which is nothing less than concentrated energy and strength and vitality and knowledge. The fingers have made Ooboo the most powerful Mifket in the island, so it is no wonder he has become king."

      Para Bruin listened to this carefully, and after a moment's thought he said:

      "If that is the case, John Dough, you must feed some of yourself to the Princess to make her strong again."

      "That's what Chick says; but I don't like to do it," said John.

      "You will do it, though," said the bear; "for if you don't you are no friend of mine, or of any other honest person. I'm going back to my mountain, and if you don't save the little Princess I'll never speak to you again."

      Away stalked Para Bruin, and John Dough arose with a sigh and walked far into the forest, trying to make up his mind what to do. He came to the bank of the brook presently, and seating himself upon a fence beside the stream gazed into the rushing water in deep thought. From the distance came the roar of water falling over the big dam which the beavers had built, and once or twice a Mifket strayed that way and looked curiously at the silent figure of the gingerbread man. But they had orders from the Arab and Ooboo not to disturb him, so they crept away again and joined their fellows among the giant plants.

      A long time John Dough sat there by the stream, until suddenly he was aroused from his musings by a shriek of discordant laughter behind him.

      "Ho, ho, ho! What an absurd thing! Who'd ever have thought it?"

      He turned around and saw a gorgeous macaw standing on a log back of him. The bird was all aglow with crimson and green feathers, and its black eyes twinkled mischievously, while continuous shouts of laughter came from its ruffled throat.

      "Keep still, can't you?" said John, in an annoyed tone. "What are you laughing at, anyway?"

      The bird pushed its head underneath a wing and shook with suppressed mirth.

      "Oh dear! It's too funny for anything! What a lark—hoo, hoo, hoo! What a lark it is!"

      Its voice was somewhat smothered by the feathers, but John heard every word, and it made him angry.

      "You're a rampsy, that's what you are!" he cried.

      "There are two of us—two of us—two of us!" shrieked the macaw, hopping around and fluttering its brilliant plumage. "Honestly, my dear breakfast, I never had so much fun in my life!"

      John turned his head and looked at the bird earnestly.

      "Why do you call me your 'dear breakfast'?" he asked, with sudden suspicion.

      "Because that's what you are, my poor innocent! Ha, ha, ha! Breakfast is ready!"

      The bird made a quick thrust with its beak, and the next moment fluttered around in front of John with its mouth full of gingerbread.

      Our hero quickly stood up and put his right hand behind him. The baker had made two little coat tails at the back of his waist, and as John felt for them he found that the thieving macaw had eaten both of these coat tails entirely off, while he had sat upon the log thinking.

      "How stupid I am!" he exclaimed, with real grief. "I might have given those coat tails to the Princess, and now this silly bird has eaten them up!"

      "I said you were a chump!" remarked the macaw, winking, and then laughing again. "The idea of your sitting there and letting me eat you! I never had so much fun in all my life."

      Just then a great chattering reached his ears, and looking around, he found that a numerous band of the fierce Mifkets had stolen upon him, and were now coming forward armed with huge clubs which they had broken from the forest plants, and which were as solid and heavy as the branches of trees.

      "Surrender!" cried the leader, knowing that the gingerbread man understood their language; "King Ooboo wants you for his luncheon, and Ali Dubh is also hungry."

      For a moment John Dough was most frightened. It was not likely that his strength would enable him to escape from so many of his enemies, and he almost gave himself up for lost. For before him was the stream of water—almost as deadly to him as the close ranks of the Mifkets behind him. The macaw was strutting up and down beside him, and at his look of despair the bird said:

      "You're surely in a bad way, my friend; but I believe I can save you. When I fly up, grab my feet, and I'll carry you away to your dwelling."

      "You!" he exclaimed, gazing at the bird in surprise; "you are by no means big enough to fly away with me."

      "Size doesn't count for much," chuckled the macaw; "and since I breakfasted off your coattails I feel myself to be as strong as an ox. Just grab my legs, as I tell you to."

      John decided that it was worth attempting, being the only thing to do. The Mifkets were pressing closer, and soon he would be within reach of their clubs. So, as the macaw flew into the air John grasped its legs with his right hand (which was the only hand that had fingers), and, sure enough, the strength of the little bird was so great that it easily drew him up into the air, high above the heads of his chattering and disappointed foes.

      "Fooled again," cried the macaw; but of course