Trix's eyes were on a level with her knees, for she had fallen through, doubled up like a jack-knife.
"I fell down," she remarked, vainly trying to extricate herself.
"I thought I heard something drop!" cried Jack, rolling over in spasms of laughter, while Miss Isabel, laughing, too, at Beatrice's funny appearance and remark, helped get her up.
"I think we'd better go home," said Amy. "When Trix gets crazy there's no telling what will happen."
"It has happened," remarked Jack, looking down whence Trix had emerged. "O jolly me!"—Jack's favorite and appropriate exclamation—"O jolly me, Trix, you killed a mud worm. I knew you didn't like them, but you needn't have sat on him so hard."
"O Jack, I didn't! O Jack, where?" cried Trix, running to look. "Oh, yes, I did! Oh, please look and see if there's any of him on me!" she cried, spinning round and round wildly, in a vain effort to see the back of her own dress. "Oh, the dreadful thing!"
"See here, Trix," said Jack, "I thought you wanted to be a boy. No boy would make a row about such a little thing as sitting on a mud worm."
Trix disdained to answer.
"We ought to go, it's getting late," she said instead. "Good-night, Miss Isabel."