I'm doing things."

"I'll remember that," said Bertha, slyly, "and come round with a
watering-can next time you are reciting your rhetoric. Give me some red
now; oh, that is a beauty! There! that's enough for one load; unless you
see just one more little one that is superlatively beautiful."

"That is just what I do see! Hold on a minute! this is such a beauty,
you must have it, if I--oh!"

Peggy had been leaning as far as she could over the broad tank, fishing
for the gay branch, which floated provokingly just out of reach. At last
she touched it--grasped it--drew it toward her; when all in a moment she
slipped on the marble, now wet and glossy with the falling drops,
clutched the air--slipped again--and fell headlong into the tank, with a
mighty splash.

Bertha shrieked. There was an answering shriek from above, and Gertrude,
followed by all the other girls, came flying down the stairs.

"What has happened? What--where is Peggy?"

"In the tank!" cried Bertha. "Oh! dear me, what shall we do? Peggy, are
you much hurt?"

"No; I--think not!" spluttered Peggy. "I came down on my nose, that's
all. Feels as if it was broken, but I don't know--no! It doesn't crack
when I wiggle it. It's bleeding a good deal, though. Perhaps I'd better
stay in till it stops."

Bertha tried to climb up to the perch which Peggy had so suddenly left
vacant, but in vain; her legs were far too short. Gertrude, however,
came with a flying leap, and scrambled cat-like up the side of the tank.
Looking down, with the kindest heart in the world, and a world of
sympathy to fill it, she still could not help bursting into a peal of
laughter. Peggy, sitting in the tank, crowned with gold and scarlet
leaves, and dripping like Undine, was certainly a funny spectacle.

"Oh, do forgive me for laughing, Peggy dear!" cried Gertrude. "You--you
do look funny, but I'm dreadfully sorry."

"Well, I'm laughing myself," said Peggy, "I don't see why you shouldn't.
But did you ever hear of a water-nymph with a nosebleed? If I could only
get at my pocket--"

"Here, take mine," and Gertrude dropped her handkerchief, which Peggy
caught adroitly.

[Illustration: "'HERE! TAKE MY HAND AND SCRAMBLE OUT.'"]

"My dear," Gertrude went on, "it seems so strange to have some one
besides me falling about and dropping herself. I used to be the one,
always. They called me 'Dropsy' at home; and I fell in here last year,
Peggy, and I know exactly how it feels. Here! take m