"See what you've done; that's castor oil."
It was no time to cast criticisms upon each other, and Joel soon had a cologne bottle, and Larry the ammonia, and in two minutes their united efforts had Van sitting up in the middle of the floor with anything but a pleased expression on his face, into which his usual color was slowly creeping.
And just then in rushed Polly.
"Whatever in the world—" she began, stopping in sheer amazement.
"See what they've done," cried Van, in a towering passion, shaking his head like a half-drowned rat, and he pointed to his clothes, from which little streams of water were running off to join the pools on the carpet. "Tchee! Tchee! Get away," and he knocked the ammonia bottle out of Larry's hand.
"O dear me!" cried Polly, "pick it up, do; don't let it get spilled," as it spun off.
"Now I should just like to know what all this is about," she demanded indignantly, as she joined the group.