He was right, Josiah Socket was indeed in trouble. His wagon had gone deep down into a mud-hole, with Mrs. Socket and the girls on board. On the outer edge of the hole stood Josiah and his three boys, gazing at the disaster in dismay and wondering how the females and the outfit were to be rescued.
"Jest like you, Josiah Socket!" Mrs. Socket was saying, as she stood up on the front step and waved her arms in the air. "It's a wonder me an' the gals didn't all tumble in the mud or git our necks broke! Sech a careless man I never did see in all my born days! Now what are we going to do, answer me that?"
"I don't know, Ann," answered the husband, meekly.
"We can't sit here all day, nor stand nuther!"
"You can jump out if you want to."
"Land sakes alive! Jump out in all that mud! Ain't you ashamed to suggest sech a thing? If you was a man that was a-looking out for your own, you'd—you'd——"
"What would I do, Ann?"
"You'd do something, that's what you'd do. I shan't stay here, that is all there is to it!"
"Maybe I kin git a board an' help you out that way," said Josiah Socket, and gazed around helplessly; for nothing like a board was anywhere in sight.
"Carry 'em over," suggested Maybe Dixon. "I'll take one o' the gals, if she'll let me." And he waded into the mud.