He was eating apples now.
One, two, three, four, five, he ate. He did not offer one to his friends, not even the core!
Another apple he took. That made six!
Pop went a button and—splash—it landed in a puddle of brown water.
For three days it had rained, washing the white snow away. The ruts in the road were full of these puddles, nice and brown and inviting.
Sammy's eyes and Jehosophat's eyes followed the button as it landed in the water, making little rings which grew larger all the time.
"Let's slosh," said Sammy.
"Let's!" cried Lizzie Fizzletree, "it's lots of fun, sloshin'."
Into a big puddle marched Sammy Soapstone, and after him marched Lizzie and Sophy, and at the end of the procession waddled Fatty.
"Slop, slosh, slop, slosh," they went through puddle after puddle.