e, but not before he had stopped at the big
water-cooler in one corner of the dining room. Trouble paused to watch a
waiter turn the shiny little faucet and draw a glass of water for a
customer.

"Come and get your pie, William," his mother called to him. She very
seldom mentioned him as "Trouble," before strangers. So this time Mrs.
Martin called her little boy by his right name.

"Do you want me to eat your pie?" teased Ted.

"No! I eat my own pie!" Trouble exclaimed, and he climbed up into his
chair, being helped by his father, next to whom he sat.

The meal was almost over, and Daddy Martin was wondering what his Uncle
Toby could want him to take charge of, when Mrs. Martin gave a sudden
start, a sort of shiver, and said:

"Why, my feet are getting wet!"

"Your feet wet!" exclaimed her husband. "Surely it isn't raining in here!
It isn't even raining outside!" he laughed, as he looked from a window.

"But my feet are damp," went on Mrs. Martin. Then she raised the cloth,
which hung down rather low on each side of the table, and glanced at the
floor. "There's a big puddle of water under our table!" she cried.

Then Ted looked over toward the big water-cooler in one corner of the
restaurant.

"Somebody left the faucet open!" cried Teddy. "The ice water is all
running out! No wonder your feet are wet, Mother!"

Mr. Martin hastily left his chair and turned off the faucet, and, as he
did so, he looked at Trouble. Something in the face of that youngster
caused Daddy Martin to ask:

"William, did you do that?"

"I--I dess maybe I turned it on a 'ittle bit!" confessed the mischievous
one.

"A _little_ bit!" cried Janet, as she looked under the table. "Why,
there's almost as much water as there is in our brook at home!"

"Oh, not quite so much," said her mother gently. "Though there is enough
to have wet through the soles of my shoes. I was wondering why my feet
felt so damp and cold. And did Trouble turn on the water? Oh, Trouble!"

All eyes gazed at the little fellow, and he seemed to think he should
explain what he had done.

"I 'ist turned de handle a teeny bit," he said, "to make a 'ittle water
come out. An' den I fordot 'bout it!"

That was just what he had done. Seeing the waiter draw a glass of water
from the cooler had given Trouble the idea that he soon afterward carried
out. When he saw no monkey with the hand organ, the little fellow had
gone back to his seat and, on the way, opened the faucet