Not far from the spout it crossed a fence. Ellen must
cross it, too, to gain her object, and how that could be done,
was a great question; she resolved to try, however. But first,
she played awhile with the water, which had great charms for
her. She dammed up the little channel with her fingers,
forcing the water to flow over the side of the trough; there
was something very pleasant in stopping the supply of the
spout, and seeing the water trickling over where it had no
business to go; and she did not heed that some of the drops
took her frock in their way. She stooped her lips to the
trough and drank of its sweet current — only for fun's sake,
for she was not thirsty. Finally, she set out to follow the
stream up to its head. But poor Ellen had not gone more than
half way towards the fence, when she all at once plunged into
the mire. The green grass growing there had looked fair
enough, but there was running water and black mud under the
green grass, she found to her sorrow. Her shoes, her
stockings, were full. What was to be done now! The journey of
discovery must be given up. She forgot to think about where
the water came from, in the more pressing question, "What will
Aunt Fortune say?" — and the quick wish came that she had her
mother to go to. However, she got out of the slough, and
wiping her shoes as well as she could on the grass, she
hastened back to the house.
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