The roses were heavy with rain, and the
honeysuckle shook big drops on them, as they ran by.
The boats went topsy-turvy over the falls, upsetting the dolls, who went
careering down the stream, to the great delight of the children.
They played till the last boat load was lost beyond all hope, and then,
with wet feet and streaming sleeves, they crept back to the house.
"Now, what shall we do? It was lots of fun, Dimple," said Florence, "but
I know your mother will scold, when she sees how wet our feet are, and
your foot just well too, and see my sleeves. If we change our clothes
she will wonder and then--What shall we do?"
"I don't think it was a bit of harm," said Dimple, determined to brave
it out, "but it won't do to keep these wet frocks on. I know. We will go
up into the attic, take them off, and hang them up to dry; then we can
dress up in other things. There are trunks and boxes full of clothes up
there, and we can play something."
"So we can," exclaimed Florence. "That is a perfectly lovely plan. Do
you think our clothes will dry before supper?"
"Of course," said Dimple; "anyhow it will be funny to put on trains and
things. Come on."
They raced up to the garret, and were soon diving into the boxes and
trunks of winter clothing that Mrs. Dallas had packed away.
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