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Not until the bucket had reached the height of the cableway was he able to take any interest in looking about him. The second or so that had elapsed since he had taken passage on the concrete conveyor had been fully occupied in putting himself in a position where he could hold on and not be in danger of being tipped over the side. Worming himself around he found he could seat himself comfortably in the hook that held the bucket and clasp his arms around the great iron ball that hung just under the many sheaved pulley.,

Well, Lisa and Olea were really very contrary both of them. What would they say if they knew how every one had been calling him the heir of Kingthorpe? On the whole it was rather pleasant to be called that, although somewhat embarrassing. He would not speak of it to Olea and Lisa after all—not yet, anyway. They were both staring at him in open-mouthed wonder.,

“Besides, I’d like to see a ranch. I’ve never been to one since we came out here. The people you’re going to see won’t mind my coming along, will they?”,

The poor Queen tried to complain of the ill-treatment, but no one would listen to her; the monsters laughed and hooted at her, and the Fairy Lioness told her that if she came again to deafen her with lamentations, she would give her a sound thrashing. She was forced, therefore,to hold her tongue, and to have recourse to the Frog, who was the kindest body in the world. They wept together; for as soon as she put on her cap of roses, the Frog was able to laugh or weep like anyone else. "I feel such an affection for you," she said to the Queen, "that I will re-build your house, even though I drive all the monsters of the lake to despair." She immediately cut some wood, and the little rustic palace of the Queen was so quickly reared, that she was able to sleep in it that night. The Frog, who thought of everything that was necessary for the Queen's comfort, made her a bed of wild thyme. When the wicked fairy found out that the Queen did not sleep on the ground, she sent for her: "What gods or men are they who protect you?" she asked. "This land, watered only by showers of burning sulphur, has never produced even a leaf of sage; I am told, nevertheless, that sweet-smelling herbs spring up beneath your feet!"

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“Sorry,” was the short response, “but orders are orders. Nothing doing.”,

“At first it does, but the plan is that farmers who use irrigated lands must pay a water tax which will eventually repay the Government the amount of money it has invested. On some projects the farmers have entirely repaid the Government. On others it will be years before the money is finally returned.”,

Johnny Blossom sat down again with wonder in his eyes. It was all so amazingly queer. Suddenly his mother said, “You must not think, little John, that your father and I are altogether glad about this.”,

CHAPTER XVI