lap.
"How many drops make a gallon?" said Katharine, not because she really wanted to know, but because there was nothing better to say. Nobody knew the answer.
"Where does it all
come
from?" said Martha, a prey to exasperation.
It was then that the sudden brilliant thought struck the mind of Jane. "Why, it comes from the lake!" she cried. "Doesn't it? Sure it does! It's scientific! The sun draws the water up, and then it condenses and comes down again, and that's rain! This is lake water we've got right here in this pan!"
"Will it be magic still, after it's been through all that?" said Katharine.
"Why not? Condensed magic!"
"It ought to be even stronger, if it's anything like condensed milk!"
"At least we can try!"
The four children hung over the dishpan, all talking at once.
"What in the world are you doing?" said their mother, passing through the room. "You look like witches round a caldron." She went out again.
"Do you suppose she's begun to notice?" whispered Martha.
"Probably just a coincidence," said Mark. "Now. Everybody keep calm. Let's plan. Take it slowly. Start big and narrow down. Do we want to go somewhere in time, or just space? Or both?"
"I never can think what anything means when you put it like that," said Martha. "It sounds too much like schoolwork."
"We have to keep it wet," said Katharine, who was often of a one-track mind. "What wet things are fun?"
"Niagara Falls in a barrel? Battle of Trafalgar? Ulysses?" said Jane, reading from one of her many lists.
"No," said everybody else.
"Start the other way round," said Mark. "What fun things are wet?"
"Sailboating," said Jane promptly.
"Too real," objected Katharine.
An idea dawned in Mark. "What do you say?" he said, and broke off. His eyes took on a glazed expression.
'To what?" said Martha.
"No," muttered Mark. "That wouldn't work."
"
What
wouldn't?" said Katharine.
"On the other hand, though," said Mark, and stopped again.
"Do you want us to scream?" said Jane.
"Well," said Mark, "I was just thinking. What' s snow, if it isn't water sort of frozen? And who's ever had
really
enough snow at one time? And where is there the most of it to be had?"
"The North Pole!" said Jane.
"We could see Santa Claus," said Martha. The others were too considerate of her tender youth to comment on this.
"No," said Mark. "Not the North, that's too tame. But the South one hasn't been discovered yet, hardly."
"We could find it and claim it for the United States of America," said Katharine, her eyes shining with the spirit of true patriotism.
"What do you say?" said Mark. "Shall we wish?"
"It's certainly wet enough," said Jane.
"Put in about having warm clothes," said Katharine.
"And not catching cold," said Martha.
"We could take along hot possets," said Jane.
There was a pause, while cocoa was hastily brewed. A few moments later, clutching the steaming mugs of it, the four children clustered round the dishpan again.
"Let's all touch at once," said Katharine. "That'll be more sort of mystic."
The hands that weren't clutching the cocoa went out toward the dishpan.
"Look!" said Jane, pointing at the water. Already a thin scum of ice was forming across its top. "It thinks it's a good idea. It
wants
us to!"
The next minute all hands had touched and all hearts had wished.
And the minute after
that,
the dishpan had disappeared, and the water in it had turned white and frozen and grown bigger and bigger until it was a vast snowy plain, and the four children found themselves seated in the middle of it, suitably bundled up and befurred, and with mugs of cocoa still in their now fur-mittened hands.
Carrie the cat found herself there, too, through no wish of her own, for Martha had forgotten to put her off her lap.
"Brr!" said everybody, in the sudden wintry blast, and four noses were buried in four steaming mugs.
"Whiff!" said Carrie, putting back her whiskers. She took one or two delicate steps across the snowy crust, not sure whether she liked
"How many drops make a gallon?" said Katharine, not because she really wanted to know, but because there was nothing better to say. Nobody knew the answer.
"Where does it all
come
from?" said Martha, a prey to exasperation.
It was then that the sudden brilliant thought struck the mind of Jane. "Why, it comes from the lake!" she cried. "Doesn't it? Sure it does! It's scientific! The sun draws the water up, and then it condenses and comes down again, and that's rain! This is lake water we've got right here in this pan!"
"Will it be magic still, after it's been through all that?" said Katharine.
"Why not? Condensed magic!"
"It ought to be even stronger, if it's anything like condensed milk!"
"At least we can try!"
The four children hung over the dishpan, all talking at once.
"What in the world are you doing?" said their mother, passing through the room. "You look like witches round a caldron." She went out again.
"Do you suppose she's begun to notice?" whispered Martha.
"Probably just a coincidence," said Mark. "Now. Everybody keep calm. Let's plan. Take it slowly. Start big and narrow down. Do we want to go somewhere in time, or just space? Or both?"
"I never can think what anything means when you put it like that," said Martha. "It sounds too much like schoolwork."
"We have to keep it wet," said Katharine, who was often of a one-track mind. "What wet things are fun?"
"Niagara Falls in a barrel? Battle of Trafalgar? Ulysses?" said Jane, reading from one of her many lists.
"No," said everybody else.
"Start the other way round," said Mark. "What fun things are wet?"
"Sailboating," said Jane promptly.
"Too real," objected Katharine.
An idea dawned in Mark. "What do you say?" he said, and broke off. His eyes took on a glazed expression.
'To what?" said Martha.
"No," muttered Mark. "That wouldn't work."
"
What
wouldn't?" said Katharine.
"On the other hand, though," said Mark, and stopped again.
"Do you want us to scream?" said Jane.
"Well," said Mark, "I was just thinking. What' s snow, if it isn't water sort of frozen? And who's ever had
really
enough snow at one time? And where is there the most of it to be had?"
"The North Pole!" said Jane.
"We could see Santa Claus," said Martha. The others were too considerate of her tender youth to comment on this.
"No," said Mark. "Not the North, that's too tame. But the South one hasn't been discovered yet, hardly."
"We could find it and claim it for the United States of America," said Katharine, her eyes shining with the spirit of true patriotism.
"What do you say?" said Mark. "Shall we wish?"
"It's certainly wet enough," said Jane.
"Put in about having warm clothes," said Katharine.
"And not catching cold," said Martha.
"We could take along hot possets," said Jane.
There was a pause, while cocoa was hastily brewed. A few moments later, clutching the steaming mugs of it, the four children clustered round the dishpan again.
"Let's all touch at once," said Katharine. "That'll be more sort of mystic."
The hands that weren't clutching the cocoa went out toward the dishpan.
"Look!" said Jane, pointing at the water. Already a thin scum of ice was forming across its top. "It thinks it's a good idea. It
wants
us to!"
The next minute all hands had touched and all hearts had wished.
And the minute after
that,
the dishpan had disappeared, and the water in it had turned white and frozen and grown bigger and bigger until it was a vast snowy plain, and the four children found themselves seated in the middle of it, suitably bundled up and befurred, and with mugs of cocoa still in their now fur-mittened hands.
Carrie the cat found herself there, too, through no wish of her own, for Martha had forgotten to put her off her lap.
"Brr!" said everybody, in the sudden wintry blast, and four noses were buried in four steaming mugs.
"Whiff!" said Carrie, putting back her whiskers. She took one or two delicate steps across the snowy crust, not sure whether she liked
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