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Four children camping on an island in the Lake District encounter adventures with tomboyish sisters who claim the island as their own.

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XXXI

to do is to put on some dry clothes,” said mother. “I’ve brought a dry change for each of you four.”

“Roger never got wet,” said Susan.

“That’s a good thing,” said mother, “but you did, and so did John, and Titty looks like a dishcloth. Run down to the boat and ask Mr. Jackson for that bundle.”

Then came the launch, chug, chugging in to the landing-place, and running its nose gently aground close by the three boats that were already there. The landing-place was so crowded that it was almost as bad as Rio Bay. Captain Flint ran down there to meet the launch, and Mrs. Blackett jumped ashore into her brother’s arms. She was a very little woman, not really much bigger than Nancy, and very like her. In the native talk that followed, her tongue went fastest. Captain Flint and Mrs. Walker just put in a word sometimes.

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