Nan did not know what to do. She had been told to walk down the road, pretending to talk to Harry, and to take half an apple which he would hand her, in view of the camera. "That's all right--let the little fellow get into the picture," directed Mr. Weston. "It will make it all the prettier." So Freddie had his wish, to walk beside his sister. But he had not gone far before he saw, on the edge of a little brook, a bright red flower. "I'm going to get it!" he cried. "I can hold it in my hand. It will look nice in the picture." "No, no!" cried Nan. "Stay with me, Freddie." "Going to get the flower!" he shouted, as he ran on ahead. And, just as he reached the edge of the brook, his foot slipped, and down he went with a great splash, into the water. "Oh, Freddie's fallen in! Freddie's fallen in!" cried Nan, rushing forward. "I'll pull him out!" cried the man grinding away at the crank of the camera. "No, you stay there and get the moving picture," said Mr. Watson. "It will make a funny scene, and Freddie is in no danger. The water isn't deep! I'll get him out!" "That's the second time Freddie's fallen in," said Bert, as he ran toward the brook. "Help me out! Help me out!" sobbed Freddie, splashing about in the water. CHAPTER XIII THE CIRCUS "There you are, my little man! Not hurt a bit! Up again! Out again!" and Mr. Weston picked little Freddie out of the brook, and set him on his feet. "All right, aren't you?" asked the moving picture man. "Ye--yes, I--I guess so," stammered the "little fat fireman," as he looked down at his dripping knickerbockers. "But I--I'm terrible wet! I'm awful wet--ma--mamma!" he stammered. "Never mind, Freddie," Mrs. Bobbsey answered with a smile. "You'll dry." "I say!" called one of the men who had been turning the crank of the moving picture camera. "I say, Mr. Weston, I got the picture of the boy falling in the water on this film. I couldn't help it." "That's all right," said the manager. "It won't spoil the picture any. It will only make it look more natural." "And it's natural for Freddie to be wet;" said Bert, with a laugh. "He's always playing with that toy fire engine of his, and getting soaked." "But I didn't have the fire engine this time, Bert," said the chubby little chap. "I--I fell in!" "You poor little dear!" exclaimed the actress-schoolteacher, putting her arms around him. "It was all my fault, too!" "No, it was mine," said Freddie, generously. "I don't mind. I like being wet!" They all laughed at this. Mrs. Bobbsey said Freddie wanted to be polite. A few more pictures were made of the village children, the Bobbsey twins, with the exception of Freddie, taking part. Freddie was hurried off by his mother to the farmhouse to be put into dry clothes. Then, with thanks to those who had helped make the scenes, Mr. Weston, Miss Burns and the camera man went back to the village hotel where they were stopping.