ar-whoop,
and threw himself right across the middle of the board, and shook it
with all his might, so that it jiggled awfully right up and down. Before
we had time to scream or to paralize our danger, over we all went,
pell-mell, helter-skelter, higgledy-piggledy, down, down, down into the
foaming water! What do you think of that, Clytie? Every single one of
us--dogs, Jane, carriage, and all! 'Twas worse, a thousand-fole, than
when we lost Lucille. Fan sat right down on the pebbles at the bottom of
the sea, and gave herself up for lost. I threw Moppet as far as I could
on to the beach, while Dora screamed: "You hateful boy! Go at him, Snip!
bite him! throw him over! eat him up!" And Snip _did_ go at him, as if
he would "tear him limb from limb," as the story-books say.

Randolph looked scared out of his wits, and without waiting to help one
of us, he turned and ran as fast as he could go, and never stopped till
he was safe back at the hotel, the mean coward that he is! We heard
afterward how he ran into the house with such a roar as to frighten
every one there, crying out at the top of his lungs, "They've set the
dog on me, and he'll kill me!" Did you ever know such a horrid boy?

As for the rest of us, we scrambled out as best we could, by the help of
the other boys, for, to tell the truth--and you know, my Clytie, I
always do that, and never mean even to inangerrate when I am telling a
story--the water was not very deep where we fell, not more than half way
up to our knees, and we often go in wading there; but it _seems_ a good
deal deeper when you are dumped right down into it without any warning.
Now wasn't this a teragical end of our picnic on the island?

A few days later Mrs. Peyton and her party left Old Orchard. Where they
have gone I do not know, but we children believe they went away on
Randolph's account. We _tried_ to treat him politely, but how _could_
we? I don't think any one would blame us for turning our backs on him
whenever he appeared, and only saying good-morning to him in a lofty way
over our shoulders. He neverdently didn't like it, and proberly
_coaxed_ his mother to go away.

Whatever _other_ people can do, I am very sure _I_ shall never be able
to love my emernies. _Love_ Randolph Peyton! Just think of it, Clytie,
I'd be _ashamed_ to love such a mean boy even if I could, emerny or not.
I truly hope we may never see him again.

Such heaps and heaps of things as I shall have to tell you, dea