Aunt Em

She's suffering from insomnia.

And her Uncle Henry and Aunt Em decide that the way to fix it is to take her to a specialized psychotherapist of some sort who will perform

some – experimental.

Yes.

demanded the professor, staring over the top of his thick glasses.

You'll have to ask Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, said Dorothy, rather sulkily.

The professor had hurt the feelings of her best friend the scarecrow, and ancestors did not interest her one little bit.

Very well.

Grainger, for the ones who get it done.

INTRODUCTION folk-lore legends myths and fairy tales have followed childhood through the ages for every healthy youngster has a wholesome and instinctive love for stories fantastic marvellous and manifestly unreal the winged fairies of grim and anderson have brought more happiness to childish hearts than all other human creations yet the old-time fairy tale having served for generations may now be classed as historical in the children's library for the time has come for a series of newer wonder tales in which the stereotyped genie dwarf and fairy are eliminated together with all the horrible and blood-curdling incident devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale modern education includes morality therefore the modern child seeks only entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all the disagreeable incident having this thought in mind the story of the wonderful wizard of oz was written solely to pleasure children of to-day it aspires to being a modernized fairy tale in which the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left out l frank baum chicago april nineteen hundred THE CYCLONE dorothy lived in the midst of the great kansas prairies with uncle henry who was a farmer and aunt em who was the farmer's 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 this room contained a rusty-looking cooking stove 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 corner and dorothy a little bed in another corner there was no garret at all and no cellar except a small hole dug in the ground called a cyclone 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 country that reached the edge of the sky in all directions 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 burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere once the 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 changed her too they had taken the sparkle from her eyes and had left them a sober gray 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 child's laughter that she would scream and press her hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy's merry voice reached her ears, and she still looked at the little girl with wonder that she could find anything to laugh at.

Uncle Henry never laughed.

He worked hard from morning till night, and did not know what joy was.

"'There's a cyclone coming, Em,' he called to his wife.

"'I'll go look after the stock.' Then he ran towards 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.

It aspires to being a modernized fairy tale in which the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left out.

L. Frank Baum, Chicago, April, 1900 End of Introduction THE CYCLONE Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's 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 contained a rusty-looking cooking stove, 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 corner, and Dorothy a little bed in another corner.

There was no garret at all, and no cellar, except a small hole dug in the ground, called a cyclone 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.

Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere.