"Yes," said Sue, "I know. But now we're both lost together, but if we were lost all alone I'd be scareder than I am now. Don't go away, Bunny."
"I won't. But which path shall we take?"
Sue thought for a minute. Then she tried a little game that the children sometimes played.
Shutting her eyes, Sue pointed her fat little hand first at one path, and then the other, while she said:
"My-mother-told-me-to-take-this-one!"
And she moved her hand back and forth, pointing first at one path and then at the other. When she said the last word—"one"—her hand was pointing at the left hand path.
"We'll take this one, Bunny," she said.
"All right, Sue. Maybe this one will take us home."
So they walked on and on. But Sue's guess had not been a very good one, even though she had played her queer little game. She and Bunny were deeper in the woods than ever.
"Oh, dear!" cried the little girl. "I've just got to sit down, Bunny. My legs is so tired!"