“Now don’t begin and scare Dot,” admonished Bobby. “Let’s take hold of hands. My, isn’t it nice and cool!”
They stepped from the sunny glare of the brook pasture into the cool, dark, rustly stillness of the beautiful woods. A chipmunk ran across their path, and tall ferns grew higher than their heads on either side of the brook.
Almost unconsciously the children left the brook and struck off into a pretty path that was laid with stepping stones and led up a slight hill. They saw two rabbits and heard gray squirrels chattering in the trees overhead. One squirrel came down and stared gravely at them.
“Isn’t he pretty?” said Meg. “I wish he’d let me pat him.”
A shriek from Dot startled them all.
“I saw a snake!” she cried, running to Meg. “A horrid, nasty little green one. And now I’ve lost my flowers!”
Sure enough, the bouquet she had been picking was scattered in all directions.
“Don’t you care,” Meg comforted her. “It was only a baby water snake. Aunt Polly told Mother that’s the only kind that lives round here. Honestly, snakes are all right, Dot. Lots of people don’t mind ’em a bit.”
“Well, I do,” said Dot decidedly. “They wiggle so. Let’s go home anyway.”