"You'd have missed being in the picture, poor souls! Well, since we're all alive, let's go break the news gently to the grown-ups." Blue Bonnet looked around the drenched, shivering group and then burst into peals of laughter. In truth they were a sorry looking lot. Soaked to the skin, with hair and clothes dripping and bedraggled, they all looked at each other as if surprised and grieved to find themselves part of so undignified a company. Grandmother's expression when the We are Sevens hove into sight, sent Blue Bonnet off into another gale of merriment. "We've been shooting the chutes, Grandmother," she said with dancing eyes. "Without a boat," added Kitty. It took Sarah to tell the story in all its harrowing details, and at its conclusion Mrs. Clyde looked sober. "Were you really in danger?" she asked Blue Bonnet. "Not a bit," Blue Bonnet declared. "Sarah was the only one who came near drowning and that was because she _would_ talk under water." Fifteen minutes later the little sheet-iron stove was red-hot, and on a hastily strung clothes-line about it hung an array of dripping garments that almost hid it from view. "There's one comfort about all this," said Kitty, "our skirts and middies have had a much-needed bath." "I'm afraid they won't be very clean,--cold water won't take grease out," said Sarah mournfully. "And I'd like to know--how are we going to iron them?" They were all sitting in a circle about a blazing bonfire of Uncle Joe's building, with their streaming hair spread out to dry. Dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers had made it unnecessary to go to bed while their wardrobe hung on the line, and now that they were warm and comfortable, they were disposed to look on the adventure of the afternoon as more of a lark than a misfortune. "Do you recall a prophecy you made this morning, Blue Bonnet?" asked Kitty. Blue Bonnet shook her head. "Your 'prophetic soul' told you, if I remember rightly, that we were going to conduct ourselves like a model Sunday-school class to-day." "Well, if anybody would promise me as much fun in Sunday-school as I've had this day, I'd never be absent or tardy!" laughed Blue Bonnet. Sarah looked pained. "It's Sunday to-morrow," she remarked. "I wonder what Dr. Judson will take as the text of his sermon." Blue Bonnet gave her a long, curious glance. "Do you really wonder, Sarah, about things like that?" Sarah raised honest, serious eyes. "Why, of course, Blue Bonnet. Don't you?" "No," she confessed, "but I do wonder--at you!" As they sat silent for a moment about the blazing logs, Blue Bonnet had an inspiration. "Grandmother," she asked abruptly, "are you very hungry?" "Why--is it your turn to get dinner?" Mrs. Clyde smiled; she was shaking the water from her granddaughter's long hair, and spreading it in the warm rays of the fire. "No, Amanda and I were to get lunch. But are you?" "Not at all. Mrs. Judson and I had an excellent dinner at noon."