“I’m going to build a great big sand castle.”
“You can’t do it, Freddie Bobbsey. The sand won’t stick together into a castle.”
“I’m going to use wet sand,” asserted Freddie. “That will stick together.”
“You look out, Freddie Bobbsey, or you’ll fall in!” cried his sister, when Freddie had gone further down near the water where the sand was wet.
“Freddie! Freddie! keep away from that water!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey. “I don’t want you to get all wet and dirty.”
“But I want to build a sand castle.”
“Well, you come up here where the sand is dry and build it,” continued Mrs. Bobbsey.
“All right. In a minute,” answered Freddie.
Mr. Bobbsey was straining his eyes, looking out toward the point of rock, around which the rowboat had gone, and his wife was standing beside him, gazing in the same direction, when Bert, who looked the other way, cried:
“There she comes now! There’s the Swallow!”