It was Jimmy who broke into this rollicking song, and when all of the Brown boys, who had had an experience with this old dry creek bed once on a ’possum hunt, heard him, they felt that the song was singularly appropriate. They also thanked their stars that they had with them some one who would “whoop things up” and keep the crowd cheerful, and perhaps the ladies would not realize the danger they were in. This wet-weather creek was fed by innumerable small branches, all of them dry now from something of a drought that had been prevalent, and John, the woodsman, noticed that before they had much rainfall in the valley those small branches had begun to flow, showing that there had already been a great storm to the west of them. “If the rain were merely local, old Stony Creek could not do much damage in itself, but it is the help of all of these wet-weather springs and branches that makes it play such havoc,” whispered John to Jimmy Lufton. “I have known it in two hours’ time to rise four feet, which sounds incredible; and then in two hours more subside two feet, and in a day be almost dry again. I spent four hours up on top of Black Rock once in a sudden freshet. I would have scaled the hills, but I had some young dogs hunting, and they were so panic-stricken and I was so afraid they would fall down the cliffs in the creek, that I just took them up on top of the rock; and there we sat huddled up in the driving rain until the water subsided enough for us to wade home. Swimming is out of the question for more than a few strokes, the current is so swift; and as for keeping your feet and walking, you simply can’t do it.” “We have a creek up near Lexington that goes on just such unexpected sprees,” said Jimmy. “It will be a perfectly respectable citizen and every one will forget its bad behavior, when suddenly it will break loose and get so full it disgraces itself and brings shame on its family of branches.” By this time the whole crowd was fairly damp, but they made a joke of it, with the exception of Miss Hunt, who was much irritated at the damage done her pretty dress. Although she was covered up with three coats, she clamored for more, but no more were offered her. Professor Green took off his coat and, folding it carefully, put it under the seat in the lunch hamper. “I fancy you think this is a funny thing to do, but I have seen a wet crowd almost freeze after a storm like this, and it is a great mistake to get all of the wraps wet. It is much better to take the rain and get wet yourself, and keep the coats dry; and then, when the rain is over, have something warm and comfortable to put on.” “That is a fine scheme,” said Paul, and all of the men followed Edwin Green’s example, and Molly and Judy, who had prudently brought their college sweaters, did the same. “I think it is rather fun to get wet when you have on clothes that won’t get ruined,” said Judy.