"Maybe it will clear," said Rose, as she stood at the window with her nose pressed against the glass, giving her a funny look.
"I hope it does," said Violet. "Say, Daddy, what makes the rain wet?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be nice if the rain was dry, like snow, and then we could go out without umbrellas? Wouldn't it be nice?"
"Snow is wet when it melts," her father said. "And if rain were not wet it would do no good when it fell. Don't complain. Have as much fun as you can here in the house. I don't believe it is going to clear to-day."
And it did not. It rained harder and harder, but Captain Ben knew how to provide fun for the six little Bunkers even in a storm. He had many things of interest in his bungalow, and he knew many stories which he told the children. Every once in a while, though, he would go to the door and look out, and Mrs. Bunker saw that the captain's face was grave.
"Do you think something might happen?" she asked.
"There's a great deal more rain falling than I like to see," answered Captain Ben.
"Will it make the ocean so high it will wash us away?" asked Violet, who overheard what was said.
"No," the captain answered. "All the rain that ever fell would not make the ocean rise any higher. But back of us is a small river, and sometimes, when it rains too much, this river rises and makes a flood."
"Will it wash this bungalow away?" Russ asked.
"Oh, no, nothing like that. But it sometimes comes into my cellar," replied Captain Ben. "However, I don't believe it will this time. Only I wish it would clear up so I could take my six little Bunkers to the island on a picnic."