She stuffed her patient into one of the feeding coops in the poultry
yard, gave her a pan of water and then, feeling more cheerful herself,
decided to go wading.

She glanced toward the house, reflected that if she went back to get
Shirley her mother might object to the wading plan or, worse yet,
Winnie set her at some useful task, and made up her mind to amuse
herself alone.

"Going wading?" called Warren cheerfully, as she skirted the cornfield
where he sat on the swaying cultivator pulled by the plodding Solomon,
both horse and boy protected from the blazing sun by straw hats.

Sarah refused to reply. She had no intention of resuming friendly
intercourse so soon after the painful episode of the morning.

"He needn't think he can boss me," she scolded, sitting down by the
brook to take off her shoes and stockings. "Ow, the water's cold!"

Like a great many older people, Sarah preferred to think a long time
before she committed herself to an icy flood. She tucked her feet
under her comfortably and gave herself up to thought.

In the grass beside her a hundred busy little ants ran to and fro and
Sarah's speculations led her to wonder whether they had ever made a
trip by water.

"I'll build them a little boat," she planned, "and give them a little
ride."

Actuated by the kindest of motives, she fashioned a rude sort of ferry
boat from a leaf and then spent twenty minutes catching passengers for
it. In her energy and haste she squashed several of the little
creatures and alas, when she finally sent a dizzy half dozen on their
voyage the leaf capsized and the passengers were drowned. This
effectually discouraged Sarah and she turned again to the prospect of
wading.

The water was so cold that the soft green grass seemed more inviting
and Sarah began to walk along the brook's edge, wincing a little now
and then as her foot struck a sharp stone. Then, without warning, she
stepped into a hole and sharp, darting tongues of fire attacked her
ankles.

"Yellow jackets! Wasps! Bees!" shrieked the unfortunate child,
flinging her shoes into the brook and her stockings clear on the other
side as she started to run. "Get away--leave me alone!"

She had stepped into a nest of yellow jackets and stirred up great
wrath. Her feet and ankles suffered the most stings, though one
furious insect lighted on her elbow and another on her wrist while a
third punctured her cheek. Running madly and crying with pain, Sar