the cye
dorothy lived in the midst of the great kansas prairies, with uncle henry, who was a farmer, and aunt em, who was the farmers wife. their house was small, for the lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon many miles. there were four walls, a floor and a roof, which made one room; and this room tained a rusty looking cookstove, a cupboard for the dishes, a table, three or four chairs, and the beds. uncle henry and aunt em had a big bed in one er, and dorothy a little bed in another er. there was no garret at all, and no cel- lar?aexcept a small hole dug in the ground, called a cye cellar, where the family could go in case one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough to crush any building in its path. it was reached by a trap door in the middle of the floor, from which a ladder led down into the small, dark hole.
when dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side.
not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat try that reached to the edge of the sky in all dires. the sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. even the grass was not green, for the sun had burhe tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. ohe house had been painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else.
when aunt em came there to live she was a young, pretty wife. the sun and wind had ged her, too. they had taken the sparkle from her eyes ahem a sray; they had taken the red from her cheeks and lips, and they were gray also. she was thin and gaunt, and never smiled now. when dorothy, who was an orphan, first came to her, aunt em had been so startled by the childs laughter that she would scream and press her hand upon her heart whenever dorothys merry voice reached her ears; and she still looked at the little girl with wohat she could find anything to laugh at.
uncle henry never laughed. he worked hard from m till night and did not know what joy was. he was gray also, from his long beard to his rough boots, and he looked stern and solemn, and rarely spoke.
it was toto that made dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray as her other surroundings. toto was not gray; he was a little black dog, with long silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily oher side of his funny, wee oto played all
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