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Updated: June 28, 2025
He held a coil of rope in his hands. "Look out below," he called, sending the coil shooting down the slab of granite. "By taking hold of the rope, and bracing the body at the proper angle, you mountain climbers ought to be able to walk right up. Who is coming first?" "Let Mith Elting go, tho we can laugh at her," suggested Tommy teasingly. "Thhe won't care if we laugh." "Do!" giggled Margery.
"Buthter thought thhe wath killed, but after I told her thhe wath all right, thhe felt better," observed Tommy, with a sidelong glance at Margery. "Just as though I'd pay any attention to what you say," retorted Margery, her chin in the air. "You talk entirely too much." "I'm so glad you weren't hurt, Harriet," said Hazel, "but I'm sorry you are so wet."
Able seaman Tommy Thompson will heave the anchor for you," averred the guardian merrily. "Able theaman Tommy will do nothing of the thort," retorted Tommy. "Able theaman Tommy will heave herthelf overboard if thhe trieth to do any heaving at all." "Miss Elting, I think you can steer the boat. I am needed in the rowboat with Jane," interrupted Harriet.
"Buthter thinkth it ith her clotheth that are heavy," jeered Tommy. "It ithn't your clotheth, Buthter; it'th you." "Make her stop, Miss Elting. Don't you think I am suffering enough, without Tommy making me feel any worse?" "Yes, I do. Tommy, will you please stop annoying Margery?" "Yeth, Mith Elting, I'll thtop until Buthter getth dry again. But I'm jutht ath wet at thhe ith, and I'm not croth."
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