she told Bobby, "and I'll stand underneath
and hold my skirts out; you can pull the cat off and drop it down into
my lap."

That was easier said than done, as they both discovered the next
minute. For one thing, the water sucked past the tree in a current
that forced Meg to brace her feet wide apart to keep her balance. And
when Bobby had climbed the tree, he found the limb wasn't strong
enough to bear his weight and he couldn't crawl out to the cat.

"If I had a pole, I could push her off," he shouted to Meg.

"Bend it down," she called. "Bend the branch down and I'll pick her
off, Bobby."

And, after one or two unsuccessful attempts to bend the branch down,
that was just what they did do. Bobby managed to bend it within arm's
reach of Meg, who detached the little cat much as you pick a
caterpillar off a leaf. Though the cat stuck tighter to the branch
than any caterpillar was ever known to do.

"You're all right," said Meg soothingly, putting the kitten in her
dress and gathering it up like a bag. "Soon as you get home, you can
have something to eat and you'll feel much better."

It was hard work, wading against the current, but they helped each
other and by good luck reached the bush, just as they saw Jud starting
out from the other side. Dot and Twaddles danced impatiently on the
bank, but he had evidently told them to stay there, for they did not
follow him.

"Jud! Jud!" called Bobby and Meg, beginning to do a dance of their
own. "You don't know what we found, Jud!"

"If I was you, I'd wait to do my prancing on, dry ground," Jud advised
them as he waded across. "It's safer and drier."

"Did Linda do the shirt? Is it mended?" Meg asked eagerly, when Jud
was within easy talking distance.

"Mended tip-top," announced Jud. "Buttons all on, pocket sewed back,
rip between the shoulders all fixed. Never saw a neater job."

"Linda is good as she can be," Meg said gratefully, holding her skirts
with one hand and reaching for the shirt with the other. "Let's spread
it out just the way we found it."

They draped the shirt as Meg insisted she remembered seeing it, Jud
all the while staring curiously at the little girl.

"What are you holding in your skirt?" he asked when she gave him her
free hand and they were ready to cross the brook.

"It's a surprise," Meg said mysteriously. "I want to surprise Dot and
Twaddles. You'll never be able to guess what it is, either, Jud."

And just as she said that, her foot