For a time all went well, but soon Jerry said in a whisper—somehow the dark made him whisper rather than speak aloud—“I can’t touch the roof any more, can you?”,
But my, oh, my! how wet they were! They sprang to their feet and ran—up over the Tongue, over mound and marsh; they climbed over fences and waded through thick-growing heather. Now and again they glanced seaward, seeking the boat and the umbrella, but not a scrap of either was to be seen—a fine result from their grand adventure, truly!,
“That was awfully well done, Johnny Blossom! Only twelve minutes.”.
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