"Johnny was angry with you," went on Percy, rather nervously; "he said he wanted to tease you. I brought the pumpkin from our house. I'm sorry. Look up, Dimple, see what it is! Don't be afraid. Laugh, or if you can't laugh, cry. Here's my handkerchief."
Dotty continued to moan.
Percy caught her up in his arms. "Any pump in the house? Johnny, get some water somewhere, quick! and then run for the camphor bottle."
Percy was at his wit's end. He ran round and round, with the little girl in his arms. She had life enough to cling to his neck. Johnny saw a pail of water, dipped a tea-strainer into it, and dashed two drops in Dotty's face.
"That won't do, boy! Throw on a quartful! Hurry!"
Johnny promptly obeyed. Dotty gasped for breath, and uttered a scream. Percy felt encouraged.
"More, Johnny; the whole pailful. We'll have her out of this double-quick—"
Just as Percy had extended his little cousin on the floor, and Johnny had poured enough water over her to soak every thread of her clothing, there was a sound of foot-steps. Mr. and Mrs. Parlin were coming in at the back door.
"What does this mean?" they both exclaimed, very much alarmed, as might have been expected. There lay their little daughter, screaming and gurgling, her mouth full of water, her dress stained with the raspberry jam, which was easily mistaken for blood.
"Why, uncle Edward," stammered Percy, "'twas a—"