THROUGH THE FOG BANK
CHAPTER 12
It was rather moist in the Fog Bank. "Seems like a reg'lar drizzle," said Trot. "I'll be soaked through in a minute." She had been given a costume of blue silk in exchange for her own dress, and the silk was so thin that the moisture easily wetted it.
"Never mind," said Cap'n Bill. "When it's a case of life 'n' death, clo's don't count for much. I'm sort o' drippy myself."
Cried the parrot, fluttering his feathers to try to keep them from sticking together,
"Floods and gushes fill our path—
This is not my day for a bath!
Shut if off, or fear my wrath."
"We can't," laughed Trot. "We'll jus' have to stick it out till we get to the other side."
"Had we better go to the other side?" asked Button-Bright anxiously.
"Why not?" returned Cap'n Bill. "The other side's the only safe side for us."
"We don't know that, sir," said the boy. "Ghip-Ghisizzle said it was a terrible country."