She had risen
up out of the pod and stood knee deep, like a lovely drenched figure in
a fountain.
Upon the bank above them, Willis Parker was jumping up and down,
gesticulating and shouting fiercely. "Now I guess you're satisfied our
fishin' _is_ spoilt! Whyn't you listen me? I _told_ you it wasn't more'n
three feet deep! I and Heinie waded all over this creek gettin' our
bait. You're a pretty sight!"
Of Milla he spoke unwittingly the literal truth. Even with her hair thus
wild and sodden, Milla rose from immersion blushing and prettier than
ever; and she was prettiest of all when she stretched out her hand
helplessly to Ramsey and he led her up out of the waters. They had
plenty of assistance to scramble to the top of the bank, and there Milla
was surrounded and borne away with a great clacketing and tumult. Ramsey
gave his coat into the hands of friends, who twisted the water out of
it for him, while he sat upon the grass in the sun, rubbed his head, and
experimented with his neck to see if it would "work." The sunshine was
strong and hot; in half an hour he and his clothes were dry--or at least
"dry enough," as he said, and except for some soreness of head and neck,
and the general crumpledness of his apparel, he seemed to be in all
ways much as usual when shouts and whistlings summoned all the party
to luncheon at the rendezvous.
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