The Lake Tobago boat, Mother Blossom found out, left in half an hour. Their train had been late. However, the dock was not far off, and Mother Blossom was sure they would have time for sandwiches and milk at least.
All the children were tremendously excited at the thought of going on a steamer, as not one of them had ever been on a boat. There was no lake or river near Oak Hill, and the largest body of water the four little Blossoms had seen was the town reservoir.
“If they have sails, I’m going to roll ’em up and down,” Dot announced, so thrilled at the prospect that she upset her glass of milk down the front of her frock.
“You’ll have to wear it,” said Mother Blossom, mopping her as dry as she could with a 51 napkin. “Perhaps I can put a dry dress on you on the boat. Now try to eat quietly, dear; we haven’t much time.”
The shower-bath of milk rather subdued Dot for the moment, and lunch was finished without further mishap. Then a brief walk through the pretty little country town brought them to the lake.
“O-oh! Isn’t it lovely!” breathed Meg. “Just see how it sparkles in the sun. Don’t you like it, Dot?”
“It’s all right,” agreed Dot carelessly.
Her quick eyes had spied an old organ grinder and his monkey on the other side of the dock. She slipped under the rope, where the people who wanted to take the boat were standing, and ran over to the music.
“We needn’t have hurried,” said Mother Blossom, coming back to her little folk. She had been to the office to have the baggage checks looked after. “The boat is held up for another half hour because of some engine trouble. Where’s Dot?”
Well, where was Dot? Meg had thought her 52 little sister was standing next to her. The boys were sure she had been just behind them. Where was Dot?