“Oh, do something!” cried Bess, now almost beside herself with fear; “do something, Kate. Oh, where is Murray?”
“Garn for a load o’ wood, and won’t be home till night,” answered Kate.
“Oh, Tom, can’t you shinny up the rope?” called down Bess.
“No. I’m too stiff now with cold; besides, I couldn’t do it anyway,” moaned the captive Tom, who looked like a Triton blowing on a conch-shell, as he stood with uplifted teapot. He seemed to think the teapot should be kept dry at all hazards, and wearied his arm to keep it above water.
“I’ll run next door and call Mr. Wilson,” said Bess, more hopefully, and started on this errand, while Kate, suddenly inspired, rushed to the kitchen sink, where stood the iron pump, connected by a pipe with the well, and began to pump vigorously, apparently with the anticipation of seeing Tom ooze through the spout, for which purpose, and to make the matter surer, she removed the filter.
As Bess ran she was suddenly stopped at the gate by the sight of a carriage which had just driven up, and out of which now stepped Aunt Maria and Aunt Maria’s husband, Uncle Daniel. These were the very grimmest and grandest of all the relations. When they came to see mamma, Bess had always to sit perfectly still on a chair, answer very politely, have her very best dress on, her hair parted directly in the middle and be intensely proper. As for the boys, they suffered the torture by soap and water, and endured their new jackets, could not whittle, nor whistle, nor wrestle, and were sustained under these tribulations only by the expectation of a very good dinner and a “bully” dessert!
The white-and-gold china always came out on these occasions, the best double-damask tablecloth and napkins, the heaviest silver forks and spoons, the silver salt-cellars, and—oh, agony of agonies!—the silver teapot!
For one awful moment Bess stood stunned. Then her anxiety for Tom overcame every other consideration, and before Aunt Maria could say, “How do you do, Elizabeth?” she had caught her uncle by his august coat-tail and in a piteous voice besought him to come and pull on the rope.
“Pull on a rope, Elizabeth!” said Uncle Daniel in mild astonishment. “Why should I pull on a rope, my dear?” and Aunt Maria murmured, “Very astonishing thing for a child to say.”
“Oh, come quick! Hurry faster! Tom’s down in the well!” cried Bess, with freely flowing tears.