A devil's darning-needle came and buzzed for an instant on the
bow of the skiff. A belated sandpiper flew into the cove,
peeped, and flew out.

The tide rose a little and said:

"What is this heavy thing upon my back?"

Then it rose a little more.

"Why, it's poor little sister boat stuck in the mud," said the
tide.

From far off came joyful crackling of twigs and the sounds of
children at play.

The tide rose a little more and freed an end of the boat.

"That's better," said the boat, "ever so much better. I can
almost float."

Again the tide raised its broad shoulders a hair's-breadth.

"Great!" said the boat. "Once more, Old Party!"

When the children came back, they found that poor little
sister boat was gone, and in her stead all of their forgotten
troubles had returned and were waiting for them, and looking
them in the face.