Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo
Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo by G. E. Farrow
Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo by G. E. Farrow
"Dick! Dick! Wake up, I want to tell you something." Marjorie stood outside the boy's bedroom door, and called in as loud a whisper as she dared, fearing lest she should awaken the rest of the household. There was a scuffle and a patter of bare feet inside, and Dick appeared at the door rubbing his eyes, evidently only half awake.
"What's up?" he demanded.
"Hush! don't make a noise. There's such a funny sound down-stairs-I believe it's burglars. Listen!"
"Pooh! this time in the morning. What nonsense."
"Well it's been going on for ever so long, anyhow, and hark, there's something keeps banging about like anything in the breakfast-room."
Dick ran to the top of the stairs and listened. Sure enough, there was a most mysterious noise going on below,-a dull banging at regular intervals, and a curious lapping sound, as though there was water in the lower part of the house.
"Let's go and see what's up!" said Dick promptly.
"Me too," said a shrill treble voice, and a little curly-headed apparition came running out of the bedroom, flourishing a wooden spade.
"No! you cut along into bed again, Fidge," cried Dick.
"Want to go and see the bur-ge-lers!" declared Fidge, pushing past them, and racing down the stairs.
"Come back, you scamp," cried Dick, running after him; but with a saucy and defiant laugh Fidge sped down to the first landing.
"Ooh!" he cried, looking over the banisters, "It's all drownded; look, Dick! quick!"
Dick and Marjorie hurried down and leaned over the banisters too.
"Hullo! what a lark!" exclaimed Dick. "There's been a high tide, and the house is flooded. Come on, this is ripping!" and the boy dashed down-stairs, followed by the others.
The breakfast-room door stood open, and, wading ankle deep in water, the children soon reached it. An extraordinary sight met their eyes.
The French windows were open, and the curtains were blowing about in the breeze, while the sea had risen so high that the white-capped waves were flowing quite into the room, in which the utmost confusion prevailed. Chairs and various light articles were strewn about in all directions, and the table, by some mysterious process, had been turned completely over, and was floating about with its legs sticking up in the air. It was evidently the noise which that had made, dashing against the door, which had awakened Marjorie.
"The waves were flowing into the room."
The children stood silently regarding it for a moment, and then Fidge, with a delighted exclamation cried, "I want a ride in the boat," and began to scramble into the overturned table.
"Oh! yes, jolly!" cried Dick, following his example; and in a moment all three children were comfortably ensconced in the novel craft.
Dick found a stick floating about, which he used as a punting pole, and soon had the table through the window and out into the garden.
"I'll be captain," he cried, "and you and Fidge shall be passengers, Sis." The drawer of the table turned upside down made a capital upper deck, and Marjorie settled herself very comfortably upon it, after Dick had rigged up what he was pleased to call an awning with a little table-cloth, and a piece of string which he had in the pocket of his pyjamas.
Fidge, however, had no idea of remaining inactive, and insisted upon taking a part in the management of the craft, and so Dick made him the "Bosun," and set him to work rowing with his little wooden spade.
Out in the garden the water became deeper, and Captain Dick's pole would not reach the bottom; still, owing to some mysterious influence, their curious boat drifted merrily on, and the children did not puzzle themselves in the least as to the cause of their progress. It was quite enough for them to notice how strange and unnatural the gardens and all the familiar surroundings appeared in their present inundated state. The rosebushes and hedges looked so funny, growing out of the water, and there were such a lot of curious things floating about-a hen-coop, a wash-tub, and an old hamper had hurried past; and their boat had drifted as far as the gate leading out into the roadway, when Marjorie jumped up and pointed excitedly to something floating rapidly towards them.
"Look! Dick, look! there's an old turkey on a chair coming along."
As the object drew nearer, however, they could see that it was not a turkey, or, indeed, any bird with which they were familiar, but a most curious-looking creature. It had an oddly-shaped beak, webbed feet, and a funny great tuft of feathers for a tail.
"Why, the thing has gloves on!" cried Captain Dick.
"And a blue bow around its neck," chimed in Fidge, his eyes dancing with excitement.
"Ship ahoy!" shouted the bird, as it came close up to the table.
"Good gracious! Why it can talk," said Marjorie.
"Talk! Of course I can," answered the bird. "Why not, pray?"
"Well, birds don't generally talk, except parrots," added Marjorie, as an afterthought.
"Parrots!" exclaimed the bird, stamping furiously on the seat of the chair; "I hate 'em-nasty, showy, pretentious, ill-bred creatures; regular shrieking hypocrites, that's what I call 'em."
"What sort of a bird are you, then?" asked Dick.
"I'm a Dodo," said the creature, with a consequential air.
"Oh! then you are extinct," said Dick. "I read it in a natural history book."
"Yes, I am," admitted the Dodo. "It's lovely being extinct," he added, complacently. "Have you ever tried it?"
"Good gracious, no," cried Dick.
"What does it mean, Dick, dear?" whispered Marjorie, who didn't like to appear ignorant.
"Gone out, I think," explained Dick. "Anyhow, they say a volcano is extinct when it has gone out."
"Yes, that's quite right," explained the Dodo, with a wink. "Haven't you ever heard the vulgar expression, 'Does your mother know you're out?' Well, where I come from, we just say, 'Is your maternal relative aware of your extinction?' instead. It's the same thing, you know, and sounds ever so much better. Then, again, it's most convenient, if any one calls whom you don't wish to see, just to tell the servants to say that you are extinct, and there is an end of the matter. But I mustn't stop all day, I must be off to sea."
"Are you going to sea on that chair?" cried Marjorie.
"Well, it's as good as a table anyhow, as far as I can see," laughed the Dodo. "Yes, I've an appointment with an Ichthyosaurus at the Equator at noon, so I must be off. Good-by. Oh! while I think of it, though, if you do come across him, you might give him my love, and tell him that I'm extinct, will you please? Ha-ha-he will be amused!"
"Who do you mean?" called out Dick, as the Dodo floated away on his chair.
"The little Panjandrum," was the reply; "you are pretty sure to meet him sooner or later."
"Oh, we're going to see the Pan-jan-de-lum," announced Fidge, capering about in glee. "Hooray!"
In the meantime the table had drifted on till the house was quite out of sight, and had reached the base of the cliffs, where the smugglers' cave was. The children had been there ever so many times before, and knew of a little gap in the rocks where, if only their boat would drift near enough, they could land, and clamber up to the roadway again. The boat, however, passed the gap, and drifted straight underneath the cave, from whence came a confused babel of sounds.
The children looked up, and a moment afterwards a crowd of the funniest little people imaginable came to the edge and peered over.
"What rum little beggars!" cried Dick. "Just look at their eyes!"
"I do believe they are Brownies, or else Gnomes!" declared Marjorie, who had read a great many fairy stories.
"Nonsense!" said Dick, with a superior air; "there are no such things now-a-days."
"A rope ladder was let down."
"Who says so?" shrieked the little people from the cave. "Come up here, and we'll soon show you."
"Oh, yes, do!" cried Marjorie, clapping her hands; "I should love to see them."
"I don't see how we are going to get up there," said Dick, dubiously; "we haven't got a ladder."
"We have one," shouted the little people. "Shall we let it down?"
"Oh, yes, please," clamored Marjorie, and immediately afterwards a rope ladder was let down, and one or two of the little men hung over the ledge to steady it.
"Come along," cried Marjorie, leading the way, while Fidge followed next, repeating over and over, with a delighted chuckle, "We are going to see the Pan-jan-de-lum! We are going to see the Pan-jan-de-lum!"
* * *
Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."
Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."
Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.
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