“How do you know?” asked Mr. Thimblefinger slyly. “Did you ever try it?”
He asked each of the children this, and the reply was that none of them had ever tried it.
“I put my foot in it once,” said Buster John, “and the water was just like other spring water. I know we can’t go through it.”
“Come now!” Mr. Thimblefinger suggested, “don’t say you know. Sometimes people live to be very old and don’t know the very things they ought to know.”
“But I know that,” replied Buster John confidently.
“Very well, then,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, pulling out a tiny watch, “did you ever feel of the water in the spring at precisely nine minutes and nine seconds after twelve o’clock?”
“N-o-o-o,” replied Buster John, taken by surprise, “I don’t think I ever did.”
“Of course not!” cried Mr. Thimblefinger gayly. “You had no reason. Well, at nine minutes and nine seconds after twelve o’clock the water in the spring is not wet. It is as dry as the air we breathe. It is now two minutes after twelve o’clock. We’ll go to the spring, wait until the time comes, and then you will see for yourselves.”
As they went toward the spring—Mr. Thimblefinger running on before with wonderful agility—Drusilla touched Sweetest Susan on the arm. “Honey,” said she, “don’t let dat creetur pull you in de spring. Goodness knows, ef he puts his han’ on me I’m gwine ter squall.”
“Will you hush?” exclaimed Buster John impatiently.