“I should say it was more than a little,” laughed Nan. “But I guess it won’t matter on your old clothes.”
“No, it won’t matter any,” decided Freddie.
“After the frog got in,” went on Flossie, “we tried to poke him out with long sticks, but he won’t poke at all.”
“I should think he wouldn’t,” chuckled Bert. “He’s glad to get away from you two. I guess he’s deep down in the mud now, laughing at you.”
“Well, I almost had him,” was what Freddie said. Then he saw the pieces of wood Bert had and asked: “What’s that—a water wheel?”
“Sort of,” Bert admitted. “I’m going to try to make a water mill to run a wooden fan. I’m going down to the waterfall to try it.”
“Oh, may we come?” begged Flossie.
“You may if you will promise to sit down on the bank and not come near the edge, for it’s deep there!” insisted Bert.
“We’ll sit down all the while. Won’t we, Flossie?” asked her small brother, and she nodded her head vigorously in answer.
“Well, I guess it will be all right to take them,” decided Nan.