“Wha—what’ll we do?” asked Dot, yawning again, and scarcely alert enough yet to appreciate the serious side of the situation.
“Well! we needn’t be afraid of anything now that it’s daylight. Come along, Dot—let’s find a brook,” said the practical Tess. “I want to wash my face.”
“We haven’t any towels,” objected Dot, trotting along the road beside her sister. “Nor any soap, Tess.”
“Why! what do you suppose the squirrels and the rabbits and all the other woodsy things do for towels and soap?” demanded Tess, briskly. “I guess water’s clean; it’ll wash you.”
“And our teeth-brushes, Tess?”
Tess overcame even that seemingly insurmountable difficulty. After they had found the brook—a quiet brown pool beside the road—and had bathed their faces and hands, Tess broke a twig and chewed the end to a brush-like swab, and so brushed her teeth thoroughly. Dot followed her example, and laughed.
“We are two wild girls,” she declared. “We haven’t any home—nor anything. That is, for a little while,” she added, rather doubtful as to how this new game would “pan out.”
“Why, when our clothes wear out we’ll have to make new ones. And for Alice, too.”
“How?” asked Tess, in turn curious. “What out of?”
“Oh, we’ll weave new dresses out of grass and leaves, and trim them with flowers,” declared the smallest girl, gaily.