"A Princess!" exclaimed the Scooter in amazement. He took off his sou-wester and scratched his head in a puzzled way. Dorothy was so astonished to find that his hair was moss that she said nothing at all for a whole minute.
"If you're a Princess, why are you so shabby?" choked a Scooter named Mouldy.
"Don't mind him, he has a bad cold," apologized Flub, putting his hat on again. "He would go a picking daisies on the shore yesterday and got his feet dry. Now look at him!"
The Scooter coughed miserably. "That's right," he wheezed, dabbing at his eyes with his right sail. "Never get your feet dry little Scoot, it's turrible!"
At this Dorothy giggled in spite of herself. Then seeing the poor fellow was offended she asked quickly, "Is there any way we could cross this river, Mr. Mouldy?"
"There's a bridge a bit further on," sniffed the Scooter, waving his sail sulkily. Following the direction, Dorothy saw what at first looked like a silver bridge. But on closer inspection it proved to be a great torrent of water spouting across the river like the stream from a giant hose.
"But it's water!" gasped the little girl in dismay.
"Of course it's water. What should a bridge be but water?" demanded the leader of the Scooters impatiently. "Just stand on one side and it will shoot you across."
"How dreadfully wet," sighed the dummy dolefully, "but I'll cross if you will Dorothy."
"That's right," said Flub Blub approvingly, "and here's the way to do it." Followed by the others, the Scooter sailed up the river and leaped lightly on the gleaming arch of water. Dorothy, watching them shoot across with sails outspread, thought she had never seen a more interesting sight. Just before they reached the opposite bank, they jumped into the water and in less than a minute they all were back.