o
get his clothes wet."

But if there was any part of Russ Bunker that was not wet when he
managed to get on his feet and his head and shoulders appeared above
the water, Rose couldn't imagine what part it could be. He was just the
wettest boy she had ever seen.

Russ had got a footing finally upon the stone beside which the big
catfish had lain. The water was too deep all around him for him to wade
out. The bottom of the pool was so deep that it was over the boy's head.
He had to stand on the rock and gasp for breath for he had swallowed a
good deal of water, having gone down with his mouth open.

"What did I tell you?" demanded Frane, Junior, from the bank. "You
couldn't catch that cat."

"I know it!" jerked out Russ. "I know it now."

"Lawsy me!" ejaculated Mammy June. "Is that the way you ketches catfish
up Norf?"

The other little Bunkers did not understand this. Vi wanted to know at
once if Russ had a kitty in the water with him. But nobody paid any
attention to her questions.

"Here, you 'Lias and Henery!" commanded Mammy June to two of the older
colored boys. "What you standin' there idle for? Go out on that bridge
and haul that poor chile ashore. What a state he is in, to be sure!"

It did not take long to help Russ up on to the log again. The water just
poured off him; but it was not very cold and his teeth didn't
chatter--much. Mammy June showed anxiety, however.

"You come right into de house, honey," she said to Russ. "Now, little
Miss," she added to Rose, "yo' mustn't scold him now. Wait till we wring
his clothes out and get him dry. Yo' 'Lias, bring some dry bresh and
some good sticks. We'll want a hot fire."

Mammy June had no stove in her cabin, but a broad and smoke-blackened
open fireplace. There was a small fire in it, over which her teakettle
hung. In five minutes the negro boys made a roaring blaze. Then the old
woman drove them all out of the cabin save Russ, whom she helped off
with his wet clothes, rubbed dry with a big towel, and to whom she gave
a shirt and trousers to put on while she wrung out his clothing and hung
it all about the fire to dry.

"That shirt and them pants," she said, "b'longs to my Sneezer--my
Ebenezer. If he was here this wouldn't have happened to yo', honey. He
wouldn't have let no w'ite boy fall into that branch--no, sir. But these
no-'count other young ones didn't know 'nough to tell yo' that that
ain't the way to catch catfish."

"I found out myself," ad