The Road to Oz / Путешествие в Страну Оз. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“Seven is a lucky number for little girls named Dorothy.”

“The seventh from where?”

“From where you begin to count.”

So she counted seven roads, and the seventh looked just like all the others; but the shaggy man got up from the ground where he had been sitting and started down this road as if sure it was the best way to go; and Dorothy and Toto followed him.

2

Dorothy Meets Button-Bright

The seventh road was a good road, and curved this way and that – winding through green meadows and fields covered with daisies and buttercups and past groups of shady trees.

There were no houses of any sort to be seen, and for some distance they met with no living creature at all.

Dorothy began to fear they were getting a good way from the farm-house, since here everything was strange to her; but it would do no good at all to go back where the other roads all met, because the next one they chose might lead her just as far from home.

She kept on beside the shaggy man, who whistled cheerful tunes to beguile the journey, until by and by they followed a turn in the road and saw before them a big chestnut tree making a shady spot over the highway.

In the shade sat a little boy dressed in sailor clothes, who was digging a hole in the earth with a bit of wood. He must have been digging some time, because the hole was already big enough to drop a football into.

Dorothy and Toto and the shaggy man came to a halt before the little boy, who kept on digging in a sober and persistent fashion.

“Who are you?” asked the girl.

He looked up at her calmly. His face was round and chubby and his eyes were big, blue and earnest.

“I’m Button-Bright,” said he.

“But what’s your real name?” she inquired.

“Button-Bright.”

“That isn’t a really-truly name!” she exclaimed.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, still digging.

“’course not. It’s just a – a thing to call you by.

You must have a name.”

“Must I?”

“To be sure. What does your mama call you?”

He paused in his digging and tried to think.

“Papa always said I was bright as a button; so mama always called me Button-Bright,” he said.

“What is your papa’s name?”

“Just Papa.”

“What else?”

“Don’t know.”

“Never mind,” said the shaggy man, smiling. “We’ll call the boy Button-Bright, as his mama does. That name is as good as any, and better than some.”

Dorothy watched the boy dig.