arn this morning. And the rain barrel's full. Come on."

They trotted down to the barn. Neither Peter nor Jud was anywhere in
sight, which was just what the washers hoped for. Of course, they
argued, it wasn't naughty to wash a dress, but you never can tell what
objections grown-ups are going to make. Sometimes they find fault with
every single thing one wants to do.

"Let me rub the soap on," begged Dot, as Bobby unbuttoned her frock
for her and she stepped out of it, a sturdy little figure in a brief
white petticoat.

So Dot rubbed plenty of soap on the blackberry spots. It was harness
soap, which Jud had been using for the leather harness, but the
children thought it made a fine lather. Linda would have scolded had
she seen them, for soap sets fruit juice stains so that it is almost
impossible ever to get them out.

"Let's put in our handkerchiefs, too," suggested Bobby, pulling out a
grimy square.

Twaddles had lost his, and Dot's was in the pocket of her dress and
already wet, but Bobby added his to the wash.

"We must let 'em soak," advised Dot, who had been in the kitchen on
wash days. "Linda says that gets the dirt out."

The three children balanced themselves on the edge of the rain barrel
while they waited for their wash to soak.

"Well, for pity's sake, what are you up to now?" It was Jud's voice,
and Jud came out of the barn so unexpectedly that he made them jump.

Twaddles tumbled to his knees, and Bobby stood up, but poor Dot lost
her shaky balance and fell into the barrel with her dress and the
handkerchief.

"There, there, sister, you're not hurt," soothed Jud, as he pulled the
dripping child out and stood her on the grass. "For mercy's sake don't
yell like that. Miss Polly will think you're killed!"

Dot was frightened and wet, and she had no intention of smiling at
such misfortune. She cried so loud that Aunt Polly heard her and came
running down to the barn, Meg running behind her.

"Why, Baby!" Aunt Polly was surprised to see streams of water running
off her small niece, and at first she did not notice that Dot had no
dress on.

"Where's your dress?" demanded Meg.

Aunt Polly picked up Dot, wet as she was, and started back to the
house. Meg followed to help find clean dry clothes.

Jud looked at Twaddles and Bobby queerly.

"Just what were you doing?" he asked in a different voice than they
had ever heard from easygoing, good-natured Jud. "What's that in the
barrel?"

"We were