"Over them. I went in knee deep, filled my boots full. Took them off, and emptied out the water; but that didn't do any good. The cold stayed in. I had caught it, you know, and there was no shaking it out. When you once catch a cold, it sticks. There is something growing in my throat. Tonsils, mother calls it, I believe; but I guess it won't amount to much."
"Does it hurt?"
"Oh, no! It was awful in the night, though. You see I could not get out yesterday for the rain."
"No more could I."
"It was precious dull staying in the house with the tonsils, so I kept looking out of the window, and wishing it would clear off."
"Just like me," said Flora, gleefully.
"And I got awful tired of that window!"
"Me, too."
"I wanted to smash my fist through it, but that would not have been doing the proper thing, so I kept my feelings to myself. By-and-by I heard something go, peep! peep! I couldn't think at first what it was."
"It was the robin."