"I can't. My clothes weigh a ton," protested Margery.

"Buthter thinkth it ith her clotheth that are heavy," jeered Tommy.
"It ithn't your clotheth, Buthter; it'th you."

"Make her stop, Miss Elting. Don't you think I am suffering enough,
without Tommy making me feel any worse?"

"Yes, I do. Tommy, will you please stop annoying Margery?"

"Yeth, Mith Elting, I'll thtop until Buthter getth dry again. But I'm
jutht ath wet at thhe ith, and I'm not croth."

"Girls, we have had a very narrow escape. I dread to think what would
have happened had that automobile top been up. We should give thanks
for our deliverance. But I don't understand how we came to get in
there, or what it is that we did get into," said the guardian.

"I know. It wath water," Tommy informed her. "It wath wet water, too,
and cold water, and--"

A shivering chorus of laughs greeted her words. Some of the girls
began whipping their arms and jumping up and down, for all were very
cold.

"Can't we run?" asked Harriet.

"Yes, if we can decide where the water is, and where it isn't,"
replied Miss Elting. "Suppose we find the road? We can run up and down
that without danger of falling in."