"No, I won't," said Junior. "And what is more I want to go back to the beach right off. I told you I was going sailing with my father in a half hour." "But," replied Mrs. Sand Witch, as she smacked her lips over the last of her sandpaper, "that was before you were engaged to be married." "I'm not engaged to be married," stormed the boy; "and if I had known you were this kind of a person I'd never have come down here." "Now, now," said Mrs. Sand Witch, "I'm every bit as old as your mother, and I know what is best for you. You wouldn't like me to spank you, would you?" And when she said that, Junior decided he might as well give himself up for lost. Soon as a person began to say she knew what was best for you, you might as well make up your mind, you are done for. "Good gracious!" he said to himself, "whatever shall I do?" And when dinner was over, and he went into the park again with the little Sand Witches, he was so depressed he wouldn't play or do anything; and finally, Ham Sand Witch got tired trying to cheer him up and went off to play with some other sand witches, leaving Junior and Lettuce Sand Witch sitting on a bench side by side. Lettuce Sand Witch, swinging her legs violently, was looking at him. Then she slid along the bench and snuggled up close. "I'm awfully sorry," she said. "And I think it's dreadfully mean to make you marry Bertha. She's not pretty like I am, is she? Wouldn't you rather marry me?" And the minute she said that, Junior had a bright idea. He didn't want to marry Lettuce Sand Witch any more than he wanted to marry the grateful Bertha, one was as ugly as the other; but maybe if he let on he wanted to, she might tell him how to get back to the beach. So he snuggled up to her when she snuggled up to him. "Maybe I would," he said, smiling at her. "But I couldn't possibly do it until I asked my mother. You tell me how to get back to the beach, and if my mother says I can marry you, I'll come right back and do it." "Oh, will you, really?" cried Lettuce Sand Witch, springing to her feet and clapping her hands. "Then I'll tell you how to get to the beach, or at least the way my mother gets there. She stands up straight like this; holds her nose with her _left_ hand and puts her _right_ hand above her head; then she blows _out_ her breath instead of drawing it in; and up she goes. And now, you won't forget to come back?" "No, indeed," said Junior, "I'll do just as I promised. If my mother tells me to come back and marry you, I'll do it. And now, good-by, and thank you very, _very_ much." The next instant he stood up as straight as he could, grasped his nose with his left hand, put his right hand above his head, blew out his breath, and bing--he shot up through the sand, and found himself right alongside of his bucket and shovel.