“Well, I—I’m trying hard!” answered Don. “I guess—glub—blulp—gurg!” and then he could not say anything more, even in dog language, for his mouth was full of water.
“Oh, what shall I do?” cried Prince.
Don did not have any time to answer him. He was too busy swimming.
Nearer and nearer to the bank of the puddle, off which he had slipped into the water, swam Don. He was soon so close that he could put his paws on the firm earth, and then he knew he was safe, and could crawl out.
But oh! What a sorrowful looking sight poor Don was. His nice, clean coat was covered with muddy water, which dripped down and ran from him in little puddles.
“Oh, how are you ever going to get dry?” asked Prince.
Then Don happened to remember how once he had seen his mother out in a rain storm. She came to the kennel quite wet, but before she went in she shook herself very hard, and the water drops flew off her in a shower.
“That’s what I’ll do,” thought Don. So he gave himself as big and as hard a shake as he could, and the water flew about in a shower.
“Hi! Stop! You’re getting me wet!” howled Prince.