“It’s right here” she shouted.  “Oh, you’ll run into it!”

“The rowboat!  The rowboat!” cried Letty, dancing up and down.  “Oh, Captain Jenks, what do you think of that?  It’s Uncle Silas’s boat and the oar is in it, and our sweaters and everything!”

“Fine!  But don’t lose your heads,” said Captain Jenks placidly.  No one had ever seen him agitated.  “Bobby, you take the wheel and hold it steady.”

Bobby proudly took the wheel, and Captain Jenks, while the others watched breathlessly, brought the rowboat alongside with a long iron hook and with another drew up the long rope that was tied to an iron ring in the prow.

Then the rowboat was fastened to the stern of The Sarah, and, as Captain Jenks remarked, the rescue was complete.

Soon they reached the wharf on Apple Tree Island, and the four little Blossoms were put ashore, after saying good-by to Letty Blake and her cousins.  She lived in Greenpier, and Captain Jenks had known her since she was Dot’s age.

“Let’s have lunch ready by the time Daddy and Mother come back,” suggested Meg.  “We can do it every bit ourselves.”

Working like four beavers, they soon had lunch—­and a good lunch, too—­set out on the table.  They had promised never to light the oil stove, so they could not make tea, but Mother Blossom could do that in a very few minutes when she came.

When the table was ready Meg ran out for some red clover and tall grasses for a bouquet and Bobby followed her, leaving Dot and Twaddles alone.

“I think we ought to have some jelly on the table, don’t you?” said Dot.  “We never have enough jelly.  Mother likes currant.”

“You get it, and I’ll open it,” promised Twaddles.  “Bobby never lets me have the can opener.”

Dot got a chair and climbed up on it.  She was just able to reach the shelf in the closet where the tumblers of jelly were kept.  She knew that currant jelly was red and she handed down a ruby red glass to the waiting Twaddles.

“Don’t cut yourself,” she admonished him as he punched the can opener into the tin lid.

Twaddles and Dot did not know that jelly tumblers are not opened with can openers.  Mother Blossom and Norah always pried off the tin lids and used them the next year for other glasses.

“Oh, gee, there’s a lot of wax on top,” Twaddles reported when he had torn a jagged hole in the lid and found the jelly was protected with a layer of paraffin.  “How’ll I get that off?”

“Take a fork,” advised Dot.  “Here—­I’ll show you.”

She seized a fork and jammed it into the paraffin.  Bits of wax and jelly flew from the glass, splashing Twaddles’ clean blouse and plentifully decorating Dot’s white apron.

“Mother’s coming!” cried Meg, rushing into the kitchen with her flowers.  Then she stopped.  “Dot Blossom, look what you’re done!” she wailed.

Well, there was not much use in scolding, after it was done, and Daddy and Mother Blossom said that since the twins had been so good about helping to get lunch, that they should not be punished beyond having to go without any jelly for that meal.