Meantime, Schnurri, all dripping-wet, ran to the shed where Battiste was
shaping bean-poles for the kitchen garden. The dog rushed at Battiste,
barking furiously, seized him by the trousers, and tried to pull him
along.

"Something is amiss," said the man to himself; and taking a long
bean-pole on his shoulder, in case it should be needed, he followed
Schnurri to the wash-house. By this time the whole family had assembled
there--the mother, the governess, Julius, Paula, Rolf, Hunne, and last of
all Trine; for the cries had reached every corner of house and garden.
Battiste stretched his long pole across the water to the floating tub.

"Now, catch hold of that, and hold on tight, very tight," he said, and
pulled the ark and its occupants towards dry land. Wili and Lili were as
white as chalk from their long fright.

It was no time to question the children about this new mishap, for they
were in no condition to talk about it; so the mother wisely took each by
the hand, and led them to the seat under the apple-tree, to recover
themselves. Julius followed with little Hunne, saying, "Oh Wili and Lili,
you terrible twins, you will come to some dreadful end before long."

Old Battiste rolled up his trousers and stepped into the water in the
wash-house, to pull out the stopper from the waste pipe so that the flood
could subside from the land of Noah. Trine stood looking on. Battiste
growled at her.

"You have no more sense than the seven-year-old babies! But that is the
way things go!" for he had seen at once, who must have given them the
water-spout. Trine did not think it best to reply at that moment, as she