“There he is!” cried Ted.
“Oh, I hope he hasn’t fallen in!” gasped Jan.
“He couldn’t laugh if he had,” declared Ted. “His mouth would be full of water.”
“Oh, Trouble would laugh no matter what happened,” returned Jan. “Come on—let’s find him!”
The two Curlytops parted the currant bushes that grew on the edge of the small brook. Then they saw Trouble.
Their little brother was standing in mud and water over his knees, holding out a bunch of watercress to a brindle cow that stood in the brook, reaching out her tongue for the bunch of green.
“Oh, Trouble!” cried Jan. “Oh, Trouble!”
“My! what a sight you are!” exclaimed Ted. “Maybe mother won’t give it to you for getting all muddy! What you doin’?”
“Feedin’ posy-tree to bossy-cow!” gurgled Trouble. He called any bunch of weeds, flowers or grass a “posy-tree.”
“Come right here to me this minute!” ordered Jan, as she had heard her mother call. “Come here, Trouble!”