The two buckets bumped together, and Molly grabbed at the other
one as it passed.

"Now, look out, Mopsy," she said, "I'm going to let go of this
other bucket and then I'll only have my own chain to hang on to,
so you manage it right and stick the stick through the chain when
I tell you to."

The plan worked pretty well, except that it was not easy for
Marjorie to keep the water-filled bucket back to balance Molly's
weight. It required all her strength to pull on the upcoming
chain, and she was glad, indeed, when Molly told her to push the
stick in.

A stout stick pushed through a link of chain held the windlass
firmly, and as Marjorie lifted the bucket full of water up on to
the curb, rash little Molly swung daringly deep in the well below.

"It's awfully queer," she called up, "and I don't like it very
much so low down. Gracious, Marjorie, you spilled that water all
over me!"

For Marjorie had thoughtlessly emptied the water from the bucket
back into the well instead of pouring it out on the ground, and
though Molly's bucket swung to one side of the well, yet the child
was pretty well splashed with the falling water.

But undaunted by trifles of that sort, Molly proceeded gayly to
give her orders. "Now, Midget," she went on, "if your bucket's
empty, set it near the edge, and get in and come on down."