"Children! Children!" gently called Mother from where she was lying down in the next room. "Can't you please be a little quiet? My head aches and I am trying to rest. The noise makes my pain worse."
"We're sorry, Mother," said the girl.
"But being quiet isn't any fun!" grumbled the boy. "Why can't we go out and play?"
"Because you would get all wet," answered his mother. "I've told you that two or three times, dear. Now please be quiet. It will stop raining sometime, and then you may go out."
"What can we play with?" asked the boy, not very politely I'm sorry to say.
"Why, some of your toys," replied his mother. "Surely you have enough."
"I'm tired of 'em!" grunted the boy.
"So'm I," echoed his sister.
Then she began once more to say the verse about the rain, as if that would do any good, and the boy rubbed his nose up and down the window, making queer marks.
Uncle Wiggily, on his way to see Grandpa Goosey Gander, and get a watermelon for Nurse Jane, took a short cut through a field, and passed the house where the children were kept in on account of the rain. And, as it happened, the window near which the boy and girl stood was open a little way at the top.