"Havin' fun!" was all Trouble said.

"Come here!" cried Mrs. Martin.

"Wait till I sail boat," and he pushed Ted's toy about in the cove, splashing more water on himself.

"I guess you'll have to get him," said Mrs. Martin to Teddy, who half dragged, half led his little brother to sh.o.r.e. Trouble got wetter than ever during this, and his mother had to take him back to the tent to put dry things on him.

"Trouble," she said, "you are a bad little boy. I'll have to keep you in camp the rest of the day now. After this you must not go in wading until I say you may. If you had had your bathing suit on it would have been all right. Now you must be punished."

Trouble cried and struggled, but it was of no use. When Mother Martin said a thing must be done it was done, and Trouble could not play in the water again that day.

Toward the middle of the afternoon, however, as he had been pretty good playing around the tent, he was allowed to roam farther off, though told he must not go near the water.

"You stay with me, Baby," called Nora. "I'm going to bake a cake and I'll give you some."

"Trouble bake a cake, too?" he asked.

"No, Trouble isn't big enough to bake a cake, but you can watch me. I'll get out the flour and sugar and other things, and I'll make a little cake just for you."

On a table in the cooking tent Nora set out the things she was to use for her baking. There was the bag of flour, some water in a dish and other things. Just as she was about to mix the cake Mrs. Martin called Nora away for a moment.

"Now, Trouble, don't touch anything until I come back!" warned the girl, as she hurried out of the tent. "I won't be gone a minute."

But she was gone longer than that. Left alone in the tent, with many things on the table in front of him, Trouble looked at them. He knew he could have lots of fun with some of the pans, cups, the egg beater, the flour, the water and the eggs. A little smile spread over his tanned, chubby face.

"Trouble bake a cake," he said to himself. "Nora bake a cake--Trouble bake a cake. Yes!"

First Baby William pulled toward him the bag of flour. He managed to do it without upsetting it, for the bag was a small one. Near it was a bowl of water with a spoon in it. Trouble had seen his mother and Nora bake cakes, and he must have remembered that they mixed the flour and water together. Anyhow that was the way to make mud pies--by mixing sand and water.

Trouble looked for something to mix his cake in. The tins and dishes were so far back on the table that he could not get them easily. He must take something else.

Off his head Trouble pulled his white hat--a new one that grandpa had brought only that day from the village store.

"Make cake in dis," murmured Baby William to himself.

He pushed a chair up to the table and climbed upon it. From the chair he got on the table and sat down. Then he began to make his cake in his hat.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THEN TROUBLE BEGAN TO MAKE A CAKE IN HIS HAT. _Page 138_]

CHAPTER XII

THE CURLYTOPS GO SWIMMING

"Trouble make a cake--Trouble make a nice cake for Jan an' Ted,"

murmured Baby William to himself. Certainly he thought he was going to do that--make a nice cake--but it did not turn out just that way.

Trouble's hat, being of felt, held water just as a dish or a basin would have done, but the little fellow had to hold it very carefully in his lap between his knees as he sat on the table, or he would have squeezed his hat and the water would have spilled out. But when Trouble really wanted to do anything he could be very careful. And he wanted, very much this time, to make that cake.

So, when he had the water in his hat he began to dip up some flour from the bag with a large spoon.

When the little fellow thought he had enough flour sifted into the water in his hat he began to stir it, just as he had seen Nora stir her cake batter. Around and around he stirred it, and then he found that his cake was much too wet. He had not enough flour in it, just as, sometimes, when he and Jan made mud pies, they did not have enough sand or dirt in the water to make the stuff for the pies as thick as they wanted it.

So Trouble stirred in more flour. And then, just as you can easily guess, he made it too thick, and had to put in more water.

By this time Trouble's small hat was almost full of flour and water, and some dough began to run over the edges, down on his little bare legs, and also on his rompers and on the table and even to the floor of the kitchen tent.

Trouble did not like that. He wanted to get his cake mixed before Nora came back, so she could bake it in the oven for him. For he knew cakes must be baked to make them good to eat, and he really hoped, knowing no better, that his cake would be good enough to eat.

"Trouble make a big cake," he said, as he slowly put a little more water into his hat, and stirred the dough some more. He splashed some of the flour and water on the end of his stubby nose, and wiped it off on the back of his hand. Then, as he kept on stirring, some more of the dough splashed on his cheeks, and he had to wipe that off. So that, by this time, Baby William had on his hands and face at least as much dough as there was in the spoon.

But finally the little mischief-maker got the dough in his hat just about thick enough--not too much flour and not too much water in it.

When this point was reached he knew that it was time to get ready for the baking part--putting the dough in the pans so it would go into the oven.

Trouble wanted to do as much toward making his own cake as he could without asking Nora to help. So now he thought he could put the dough in the baking pans himself. But they were on the table beyond his reach. He must get up to reach them.

So Trouble got up, and then----

Well, you can just imagine what happened. He forgot that he was holding in his lap the hat full of dough and as soon as he stood up of course that slipped from his lap and the table and went splashing all over the floor.

"Squee-squish-squash!" the hat full of dough dropped.

"Oh!" exclaimed Trouble. "Oh!"

His feet were covered with the white flour and water. Some splashed on Nora's chair near the table, some splashed on the table legs and more spread over the tent floor and ran in little streams toward the far edges. And, in the midst of it, like a little island in the middle of a lake of dough, was Trouble's new hat. Only now you could hardly tell which was the hat and which was the dough.

"Trouble's cake all gone!" said the little fellow sadly, and just as he said that back came Nora. She gave one look inside her nice, clean tent-kitchen--at least it had been clean when she left it--and then she cried:

"Oh, Trouble Martin! What _have_ you gone and done?"

"Trouble make a cake but it spill," he said slowly, climbing down from the table.

"Spill! I should say it did spill!" cried Nora. "Oh, what a sight you are! And what will your mother say!"

"What is it now, Nora?" asked Mrs. Martin, who heard the noise in the kitchen.

"Oh, it's Trouble, as you might guess. He's tried to make a cake.

But--such a mess!"

Mrs. Martin looked in. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but, as that is rather hard to do, she did neither. She just stood and looked at Trouble. He had picked up his hat, which still had a little of the paste in it, and this was now dripping down the front of his rompers.

"Well, it's clean dirt, not like the time he was stuck in the mud of the brook at home, that's one consolation," said Nora at last. Nora had a good habit of trying to make the best of everything.

"Yes, it's clean dirt and it will wash off," agreed Mother Martin. "But, oh, Trouble! You are _such_ a sight! And so is Nora's kitchen."