Well, after a time, they did get out, and were such a looking crowd as can scarcely be imagined!
But they were once more on firm pavement, and though terribly scratched up, were not seriously injured. It was a narrow escape, though, for the mire was deep, and the thorns were sharp, and a bad accident might have happened.
“You said you wanted to cut up jinks, Midget, and now you’ve done it!” said her brother.
“No more than the rest of you,” returned Midget. “Larky looks just as Jinky as any of us.”
They all turned to Miss Larkin, and then burst into laughter. She did look funny, with her hat awry, her hair out of place, a daub of mud on her cheek, and her skirts beplastered with sticky mire, and caught here and there with brambles. Somewhat to the children’s surprise, she took the disaster humorously, too.
“I don’t look a scrap worse than you four do,” she said. “But I’m thankful there are no eyes really scratched out, and no arms or legs broken; nothing but torn clothes, and dirty hands and faces, all of which can be set right in an hour or so. Now let’s scramble for home, and we’re plenty of time to get in spick and span order before your father and mother come home.”
“I’m glad it isn’t later,” said Marjorie. “Just think of their catching us looking like this!”
They went home by a back street, and fortunately met no one on the way.
As they entered their own gate, and walked up the driveway, Marjorie said:
“It reminds me of the night we walked up here with the Simpsons. Only, we’re a worse-looking crowd than they were.”