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 on
either side of his funny, wee nose. Toto played all day long, and
Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly.

Today, however, they were not playing. Uncle Henry sat upon the
doorstep and looked anxiously at the sky, which was even grayer than
usual. Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in her arms, and looked at
the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the dishes.

From the far north they heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry
and Dorothy could see where the long grass bowed in waves before the
coming storm. There now came a sharp whistling in the air from the
south, and as they turned their eyes that way they saw ripples in the
grass coming from that direction also.

Suddenly Uncle Henry stood up.

"There's a cyclone coming, Em," he called to his wife. "I'll go look
after the stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and
horses were kept.

Aunt Em dropped her work and came to the door. One glance told her of
the danger close at hand.

"Quick, Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!"

Toto jumped out of Dorothy's arms and hid under the bed, and the girl
started to get him. Aunt Em, badly frightened, threw open the trap
door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the small, dark
hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to follow her aunt.
When she was halfway across the room there came a great shriek from the
wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat
down suddenly upon the floor.

Then a strange thing happened.

The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the
air. Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon.

The north and south winds met where the house stood, and made it the
exact center of the cyclone. In the middle of a cyclone the air is
generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of
the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top
of the cyclone; and there it remained and was carried miles and miles
away as easily as you could carry a feather.

It was very dark, and the wind howled horribly around her, but Dorothy
found she was riding quite easily. A