The clammer and the submarine

by William John Hopkins

I sat down beside my daughter. "Now, Tidda," I said, "there are several good reasons why you should not go wading. The water is very cold still, and—"

"Pull this one, daddy," she said, ignoring my remarks, and sticking out toward me the leg with its stocking half off. "If you take hold of the toe and the heel and pull, it'll un-come. I can't do it, because I can't get hold from that end."

I laughed.

"I was saying that the water is very cold, and that mother wouldn't want you to go wading."

She pointed accusingly at my rubber boots. "You're going."

"Not necessarily. I only brought them down in case I should want to."

"Well, I do want to."

"If you had rubber boots and warm stockings under them—"

"Get me some rubber boots."