The children looked down into the black hole, and shrank back with fear. The stairs ended in a pool of black, muddy water, in much the same way that they do in a bona fide swimming-bath. You will remember that a pipe of the sewer had burst, and the dirty water had overflowed the Midgetts’ cellar. To wade about in this had been the recreation of the Midgetts for days.
“Come on now,” said they; “lift up your dresses, and come along.”
The cellar was growing every minute lighter the longer they were in it; and soon the children lost their fear, and began to paddle about with their naked feet, taking excellent care to steer clear of the closet containing the black snake.
“It’s getting awful, awful dark,” said Jelly.
“That’s so,” said Bunch, wondering, and looking up to see why the small window gave so little light. Something outside moved just then. The window was opened, and there were two faces looking down at them—two faces full of astonishment. They belonged to Rosy and uncle Tim.
“Children, get right out of that filth, and go up stairs,” ordered Rosy.
Up stairs they went, one hanging behind the other, and entered the room from the cellar just as Rosy came in at the front door. Can you imagine how they must have looked, drenched and spoiled with the impure water from the dainty ruffles at their throats to the very nails of their toes? Like drowned rats! Rosy only said, with a withering glance at the Midgetts,—
“Never come to our house again for cold pieces.”
Then bidding the children gather up their stockings and shoes, she marched them off barefooted between herself and uncle Tim. Tiny’s new buttoned shoes had found a watery grave; for, as the bathers came up stairs, one of the Midgett feet pitched them gracefully into the cellar.
“Tiny,” said Bunch, as they walked mournfully home, amid the astonished gaze of the returning school children. “I don’t believe there was a wildcat there any of the time.”