"Oh, Jack will have charge of the water works, you may be bound."
They were quite right, for presently the twins came out, Jack plastering down her locks with her wet hands and Jean right as a trivet in her Sunday best though bearing carefully the tray of shells which she set in the sun to dry.
"Just look at your frock, Jack," said Nan. "Why didn't you wear an apron?"
"Forgot," said Jack, looking down at her damp frock and trying to smooth it out.
"Don't do that," cried Nan; "you're making it worse. Fortunately it will wash. Go out in the sun and dry it."
"I know where there is a fine sunny spot," said Carter jumping up. "Come along and we'll find it," and he bore the moist Jack away while Jean, bereft of her twin, solaced herself with Mr. Pinckney.
"I suppose you are going to make mummies of the Egyptians," he said. "I see you are drying them up. Are the children of Israel there too?"
"Yes," replied Jean seriously; "all but Moses. He rolled under the sideboard and we couldn't get him, but Mrs. Bobs says Ah Wing will find him when he sweeps."
"So he doesn't see the Promised Land with the rest," remarked Mr. Pinckney. "Poor Moses."
Jean slipped down from his knee.