sea, where the big waves caught it and slid it up-hill to a foaming
crest and then down-hill into a deep valley, as if it were nothing
more than a plaything to keep them amused.

Dorothy had a good ducking, you may be sure, but she didn't lose her
presence of mind even for a second. She kept tight hold of the stout
slats and as soon as she could get the water out of her eyes she saw
that the wind had ripped the cover from the coop, and the poor
chickens were fluttering away in every direction, being blown by the
wind until they looked like feather dusters without handles. The
bottom of the coop was made of thick boards, so Dorothy found she was
clinging to a sort of raft, with sides of slats, which readily bore up
her weight. After coughing the water out of her throat and getting
her breath again, she managed to climb over the slats and stand upon
the firm wooden bottom of the coop, which supported her easily enough.

"Why, I've got a ship of my own!" she thought, more amused than
frightened at her sudden change of condition; and then, as the coop
climbed up to the top of a big wave, she looked eagerly around for the
ship from which she had been blown.

It was far, far away, by this time. Perhaps no one on board had yet
missed her, or knew of her strange adventure. Down into a valley
between the waves the coop swept her, and when she climbed another
crest the ship looked like a toy boat, it was such a long way off.
Soon it had entirely disappeared in the gloom, and then Dorothy gave a
sigh of regret at parting with Uncle Henry and began to wonder what
was going to happen to her next.

Just now she was tossing on the bosom of a big ocean, with nothing to