Soon after this there was a great thaw, and one morning, when Bridget went down to the ice-box, there were six inches of water in the cellar.
“Oh, the poor animules!” she cried, wringing her hands. And then she laughed so hard that the children came running into the kitchen to see what was the matter.
“Coom down! Coom down!” she called. “All the rabbits do be floatin’ ’round on boxes!”
Each rabbit was enthroned, sullen and dignified, on a box of its own; while the cats sat in a disgusted row on top of the coal-bin. It was such a funny sight that the children laughed even louder than Biddy, although they were worried for the safety of their pets.
“How’ll we ever get them out?” Eunice asked.
There was a pattering of feet behind them, and Cyclone came down to join the party.
“Here—I know!” said Franklin, seizing him by the collar. “Look, Cyclone! Seek—seek! Go fetch ’em in.”
But Cyclone only ran up and down the steps in terrible distress, not having the slightest idea what Franklin wanted.
“Seek—seek,” Franklin said again, pointing to the rabbits, and, after barking frantically for a minute, Cyclone plunged into the water. He reached the first box, and scrambled up beside Dulcie, who, not appreciating his company in the least, moved over as near as she could to the edge, and bit him on the leg. Cyclone yelped and leaped down again; while the boat rocked and swayed dangerously from his final kick.
This seemed to give him an idea; so planting his nose against the box, he pushed it gently towards the stairs, wagging his dripping tail in response to the children’s shouts of praise.