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“Any bones broken, dear madam?” asked a jaunty pink letter, with a scent of musk about it, evidently a love-letter.

“I think one foot is hurt, and my clothes are dripping,” sighed Dora, faintly.

“Water won’t hurt calico,” called out a magazine full of fashion plates, adding dolefully, as its gay colors began to run, “I shall be in a nice mess if I ever get out of this. People will wear odd fashions if they follow me this time.”

“Hope they will telegraph news of this accident in time for the evening papers,” said a dingy sheet called the “Barahoo Thunderbolt,” as it lay atop of the heap in its yellow wrapper.

“Be calm, my friends, and wait with fortitude for death or deliverance, as I do.” With which philosophic remark “The St. Louis Cosmos” folded the pages which for the first time since the paper was started, were not dry.

Here the water rose over the topmost letter and a moist silence prevailed till a sudden jerk fished up the bag, and before the dolls could recover their wits they were spread out on the floor of a mail car to dry, while several busy men sorted and saved such papers and letters as still held together.

“Now we shall see something,” said Flora, feeling the warm air blow over her as they spun along, for a slight accident like this did not delay the energetic Westerners a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

“I can’t see you, dear, but I hope you look better than I do, for the yellow of my hair has washed into my eyes and the red of my cheeks is quite gone, I’m sure,” answered Dora, as her wet dress flopped in the breeze and the broken foot sticking up showed her that her blue boots were ruined.

“I don’t care a bit how I look. It’s great fun now we are safe. Pop up your head and see the wide prairie flying past. I do hope that poor baby got away and swam home to his mother. The upset into the river was quite to his taste, I fancy,” said Flora, who was much excited by her adventure and eager for more.

Presently one of the men set the dolls up in the corner of a window to dry, and there they stood viewing the fine landscape with one eye while the other watched the scene of devastation within. Everything was in great confusion after the accident, so it is not strange that the dolls were not missed when they slowly slid lower and lower till a sudden lurch of the car sent them out of the window to roll into a green field where cows were feeding and children picking strawberries.

“This is the end of us! Here we shall lie and mould forgotten by everybody,” said Dora, who always took a tragical view of things.

“Not a bit of it! I see cows eating toward us and they may give us a lift. I’ve heard of their tossing people up, though I don’t know just how it’s done. If they don’t, we are in the path and some of those children are sure to find us,” answered Flora cheerfully, though she stood on her head with a bunch of burrs pricking her nose.

She was right. A bright-eyed little German girl presently came trotting along the path with a great basket full of berries on her head arranged in pretty pottles ready for the market. Seeing the red cow sniffing at a brown paper parcel she drove her away, picked it up and peeped in at the open end.

The sight of two dolls in such a place made her feel as if fairies had dropped them there for her. She could not read the direction and hurried home to show her treasure to her brothers and sisters of whom there were eight.

“What will become of us now!” exclaimed Dora, as eager hands slipped them out of the wrapper and smoothed their damp skirts in a room that seemed swarming with boys and girls of all sizes.