"Now we'll row home," announced Freddie.
"Had we better go back and get some of the crackers we left under the
stump?" asked Flossie. "Maybe it's a long way to the fair grounds or to
Meadow Brook Farm, and we might get hungry."
"Oh, I guess we'll soon be home," said Freddie, hopefully. "Come on and
row, Flossie."
Together they rowed the boat out from shore. But they could not make the
heavy craft go very fast. There was water in the bottom, probably from
the rain and perhaps because the boat leaked. But Freddie and Flossie
did not think about this, even though their feet were getting wet. Or,
at least, wetter. Their feet were already wet from having tramped about
in the heavy rain.
"We'll soon be home now," said Freddie again.
They were some little distance out from the shore, two brave but tired
and miserable little sailors, when, all at once, it began to rain again.
"Oh, dear!" cried Flossie, letting go her oar, "I'm getting all soaked
again!"
"Don't you care," advised her brother. "Keep on rowing!"
But Flossie cried, shook her head, and would not pick up the oar.
Freddie could not row the boat alone, and he did not know what to do.
Down pelted the rain, harder than before.
"I want to go back where we were!" sobbed Flossie. "Back to the cabin.
Maybe we can build a fire in the stove and get warm! I'm cold!"
"All right; we'll go back!" agreed Freddie. He was beginning to fear it
was not so easy to row home as he had hoped.
Down came the rain, and with it came a fog. Soon the children were
enveloped in the white mist, and they could see only a little distance
from the boat in which they sat.
"Come on! Row!" called Freddie to his sister. "We'll row back to the
cabin."
"How do you know where it is?" Flossie asked, as she took up the oar
again.
"Oh, I guess I can find it," said her brother. "You hold your oar still
in the water and I'll pull on mine and turn us around." He knew how to
do this quite well, and soon the boat was turned, and the children were
again pulling as hard as they could pull.
It was by good luck and not by any skill of theirs that they soon
reached land again. They might, for all they knew about it, have rowed
out into the middle of the lake.
But soon a bumping sound told them they had reached shore, and Freddie
scrambled out and held the boat while Flossie made her way to land.
"Is it the same place?" she asked, as Freddie reached for the rubber
blanket.
"Yes, I can see the old cabin. We'll go up there and get warm."
Up the little hill, through the rain, trudged the children, getting
what shelter they could under the blanket. Even Freddie was beginning to
lose heart now, for he could see that darkness was coming on, and they
were far from home. The rain, too, was pouring down harder than ever.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" sighed Flossie.
"Don't cry!" begged her brother. "I'll make a fire and we'll eat some
more crackers. I'll go get them from under the stump."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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