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 dam, which caused the water to back up until the way was impassable, if one would cross dry-shod.

Marjorie stood and looked for a moment, and then turned toward the fence where she saw that others had crossed by clinging to the boards. Then she stopped, and laying her roses in the shadow of a clump of bushes, she went to the little dam and began to loosen the stones. They proved to be heavy and slippery, and well embedded in the mud; but she managed, at the expense of wet feet and clothing, to dislodge them at last;—and then came the task of carrying them to where the other stepping-stones were. One she carried, and dropped it into exactly the right place, and then another, and was just returning for a third, when she saw a boy coming along the road. When she saw him, she hurried more eagerly, and was just lifting a very large stone when he came forward, timidly, but with outstretched hands. "Let me help you," he said.

But Marjorie half turned her back, with the heavy stone. "No, no!" she said. "I can do it myself."

"I would like to help you," the boy persisted. "I could make it much easier for you."