a merry-go-round."

"Well, there's something wrong," said Mrs. Noah; "and we've got to
hurry and find out what it is, or those men will be back and we shall
be as badly off as ever."

"Maybe this has something to do with it," observed Mrs. Lot, pointing
to the anchor rope. "It looks to me as if those horrid men had tied
us fast."

"That's just what it is," snapped Mrs. Noah. "They guessed our plan,
and have fastened us to a pole or something, but I imagine we can
untie it."

Portia, who had come on deck, gave a short little laugh.

"Why, of course we don't move," she said--"we are anchored!"

"What's that?" queried Mrs. Noah. "We never had an experience like
that on the Ark."

Portia explained the science of the anchor.

"What nonsense!" ejaculated Mrs. Noah. "How can we get away from
it?"

"We've got to pull it up," said Portia. "Order all hands on deck and
have it pulled up."

"It can't be done, and, if it could, I wouldn't have it!" said Mrs.