ble was out in the middle in his
leaking, packing-box ship that Skyrocket had pulled to the stream for
him. The dog, who had found the stick which Teddy threw, had rushed back,
and was now barking as loudly as he could.

But the water was not deep enough to drown Teddy. It, however, made him
very wet. Up he rose, dripping all over, and gasping for breath.

Mrs. Martin paused only long enough to look back and see that Teddy was
all right, and then hurried along, trying to pull toward her, with the
long stick, the floating box and her little son.

"Det me out! Det me out! I is all wet--I is!" cried Trouble. "My hoots is
all wet!" Sometimes the letter "f" bothered him, and he put an "h" in its
place, as saying "hoots" for "foots." Of course neither word was right,
but who minded a thing like that when poor Trouble was in such a plight?

"I'll get him!" cried Teddy, as he caught his breath. Then he wiped some
of the water from his face, and dashed on down the brook. But by this
time the packing box, in which Trouble was taking more of a ride than he
had counted on, was some distance down the brook. However, Mrs. Martin
was keeping alongside of it, though it was beyond even the reach of her
long stick.

"If we were on the other side you could reach him and pull him to shore,
Mother!" called Janet.

"Oh, I must get over on the other side--but the brook is deep here!" said
Mrs. Martin. She was going to forget that, however, and splash in, when
the box, by some twist of the current, suddenly floated near the bank
along which she was running.

"Grab it--quick!" cried Janet.

"Let me get it--I'm coming!" shouted Teddy, and, indeed, he was splashing
his way down the brook, but some distance behind his little brother.

"Oh, det me out! My hoots is awful wet!" wailed the small chap in the
packing-box boat.

And just then Mrs. Martin was able to reach out her stick, hook one end
of it over the edge of the box and pull it to shore.

"You poor little fellow! Was mother's Trouble frightened to pieces?"
murmured Mrs. Martin as she lifted her youngest out of the box, and,
never minding his wet feet, hugged him tightly. The packing box drifted
off downstream, Skyrocket racing after it and barking as though it was
the best joke in the world. "Were you frightened, William?" murmured his
mother.

Trouble looked at her, and then at the floating box.

"I had a nice wide, but my hoots is all wet," he announced.

"I should say th