“I can’t go down there,” declared Miss Larkin. “You children go, if you like, and Baby and I will wait up here for you.”
“No, we must all go,” said Marjorie, who was in wilful mood to-day.
“Oh, come on, Larky, dear,” wheedled King; “we’ll all take hold of hands and scamper down, just as easy as ease!”
So the five joined hands, and when King had counted, “One, two, three! Go!” they ran down the slope.
But though the stony bank was treacherous, it was nothing compared to the trouble they found on the lower level.
The impetus gained on the steep slope sent them running rapidly forward, and they found themselves stumbling in mud and mire.
“Whew!” exclaimed King, as they were stopped at last by their own clogging footsteps; “who’d have thought this was soft mud? It looked hard enough!”
Miss Larkin looked utterly disgusted. She tried to take a step forward, failed, lost her balance, and fell over against Rosy Posy, upsetting the poor child entirely. But the youngest Maynard was not one of the crying sort, and she floundered about in the mud, smiling hopefully, as she said:
“Middy; King; pick up poor Wosy Posy!”
But Midget and King were so convulsed with laughter at the comical appearance of Miss Larkin, that Rosy Posy was unheeded for the moment, and the baby good-naturedly floundered on, getting muddier at every step.