cared, he tried to wade out, but
could only flounder to a tussock of grass and cling there while he
endeavored to kick his legs free. He got them out, but struggled in vain
to coil them up or to hoist his heavy body upon the very small island in
this sea of mud. Down they splashed again, and Sam gave a dismal groan
as he thought of the leeches and water-snakes which might be lying in
wait below. Visions of the lost cow also flashed across his agitated
mind, and he gave a despairing shout very like a distracted "Moo!"

Few people passed along the lane, and the sun was setting, so the
prospect of a night in the marsh nerved Sam to make a frantic plunge
toward the bulrush island, which was nearer than the main-land, and
looked firmer than any tussock around him. But he failed to reach this
haven of rest, and was forced to stop at an old stump which stuck up,
looking very like the moss-grown horns of the "dear departed." Roosting
here, Sam began to shout for aid in every key possible to the human
voice. Such hoots and howls, whistles and roars, never woke the echoes
of the lonely marsh before, or scared the portly frog who resided there
in calm seclusion.

He hardly expected any reply but the astonished "Caw!" of the crow, who
sat upon a fence watching him with gloomy interest, and when a cheerful
"Hullo, there!" sounded from the lane, he was so grateful that tears of
joy rolled down his fat cheeks.

"Come on! I'm in the ma'sh. Lend a hand and get me out!" bawled Sam,
anxiously waiting for his deliverer to appear, for he could only see a
hat bobbing along behind the hazel-bushes that fringed the lane.

Steps crashed through the bushes, and then over the wall came an active
figure, at the sight of which Sam was almost ready to dive out of sight,
for, of all possible boys, who should it be but Ben, the last person in
the world whom he would like to have see him in his present pitiful
plight.

"Is it you, Sam? Well, you _are_ in a nice fix!" and Ben's eyes began to
twinkle with mischievous merriment, as well they might, for Sam
certainly was a spectacle to convulse the soberest person. Perched
unsteadily on the gnarled stump, with his muddy legs drawn up, his
dismal face splashed with mud, and the whole lower half of his body as
black as if he had been dipped in an inkstand, he presented such a
comically doleful object that Ben danced about, laughing like a naughty
will-o'-the-wisp who, having led a traveler astray, then