Flossie and Freddie kept on their shoes and stockings, and followed their older brother and sister out into the storm. They were almost the last to leave the school, on account of the little dispute.
Down pelted the rain so hard that, as Nan had said, the umbrellas were of little use. The wind blew the wet drops under them. But the children rather enjoyed it, and Flossie and Freddie squealed with delight when Bert carried them across puddles at the gutters, the barefooted boy wading boldly through the muddy water.
“Are you soaked, children?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, when they reached home. “And Bert—barefooted!”
“It’s a good thing I am,” said Bert, “else my shoes would be spoiled. I had to carry Flossie and Freddie over a lot of puddles. Their feet aren’t so awful wet.”
“You poor dears! I ought to have had you take your rubbers as well as your umbrellas,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “I thought we had had enough of April showers.”
“Maybe this is the last one, seeing to-day’s the last of April,” remarked Nan, walking toward the kitchen to put her dripping umbrella in the sink.
“Your feet are soaking wet—I can hear them,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Yes, they are a little wet,” admitted Nan, looking down at them. “I jumped over most of the puddles, and Bert lifted me across one big one, but I guess I got a little wet, anyhow.”
“A little wet! I should say you did!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. “Now all of you put on dry things!”
When this had been done, and the Bobbsey twins, safe and dry, looked out of the window, at the pelting rain, they were very glad to be sheltered and in their comfortable home.