“You do so many more things than I do,” Eunice hastened to explain. “You do things that I’m afraid to do.”
“I’m afraid this minute,” remarked Hilda.
“Afraid! why, what of?” exclaimed both the others, in chorus.
“’Fraid we’ve got to go home. It’s twelve o’clock, for there’s the whistle.”
“Oh, is that all! I thought you must have seen a snake, at least,” laughed Cricket, drawing on her damp stockings and stiff shoes. “Ugh! these stockings feel just like frogs.”
“We must come back to-morrow,” said Hilda, as they trudged off, “and see how deep this water is, and we will get some boards and make a raft, and have piles of fun.”
CHAPTER IV.
THE CONSEQUENCES.
But both Monday and Tuesday were unfavourable for nautical adventures, for they brought a driving, pouring rain. Wednesday was too damp for them to go to the meadows at all, and on Thursday came the famous birthday party. So it happened that their dam was forgotten till Saturday, when they turned their steps brookward.
“Oh, look at the water!” they cried, in one breath, as they came around the curve. They could hardly believe their eyes, for a wide, deep stream filled the bed from side to side. The combination of the heavy rains with their dam had worked wonders.
“See the water roll over the dam, girls! it’s just like the mill-dam,” exclaimed Cricket. “Let’s roll more stones down and make a bigger one still.”