"You haven't any crown," said Flossie. "Only kings an'—an' fairies have crowns."
"Well, it says in the book that Jack has a crown; an' if I was Jack I'd have one too. Only I'm not and I'm glad!"
"Well, I wish I was Jill, so I could have some of that pail of water," sighed Flossie. "I'm firsty," and she laughed as she used the word she used to say when she was a baby.
"So'm I," said Freddie. "Let's try to get up to the top, an' then we can get a drink, maybe. Only I'd rather be Ali Baba than Jack, then I could say, 'Open Sesame,' and the door to the cave would open of itself, and we could walk out and carry diamonds and gold with us."
"I'd rather have bread and butter than gold. I'm hungry. And I'd most rather have a drink," sighed the little girl. "Come on, Freddie, let's try to get up that hill. But it's awful hard work."
"Yes, it's hard," agreed Freddie; "but we've done lots harder things than that." You see, Freddie was trying to keep up his little sister's courage.
Once more the two little twins tried to climb the hill of shifting sand, but they could get up only a little way before slipping back. They did not get hurt—the sand was too soft and slippery for that, but they were tired and hot, and, oh! so thirsty.
"I'm not goin' to climb any more!" finally said Flossie. "I'm tired! I'm goin' to stay here until mamma or papa or Nan or Bert comes for us."
"Maybe they won't come," Freddie said.
"Yes, they will," declared Flossie, shaking her head. "They allers comes when we're lost and we're losted now."