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," admitted Russ rather ruefully.

Rose came to the door and begged to know if Russ was all right.

"He's going to be just as soon as I get him made a hot drink," declared
Mammy June.

"Has he got all over being drowned?" Margy demanded.

And even Mun Bun was a good deal troubled because Russ had got so wet.
"If you had any candy in your pocket, Russ," the little boy said, "it
must be all soft now. It won't be good to eat."