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diff --git a/29598-h/29598-h.htm b/29598-h/29598-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1635f07 --- /dev/null +++ b/29598-h/29598-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4862 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm, by Mabel C. Hawley.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + a {text-decoration: none;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + .caption {font-size: 90%; text-align:center;} + hr.tb {border: none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 33%; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + h3 {font-size:1.0em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm, by +Mabel C. Hawley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm + +Author: Mabel C. Hawley + +Release Date: August 3, 2009 [EBook #29598] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/c0001.jpg' alt='' title='' width='499' height='410' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/i0001.jpg' alt='' title='' width='335' height='478' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“Come on,” said Bobby, “we have to capture the ducks.” (Page 116)<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:40px;font-size:2.2em;'>FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.0em;'>AT</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.2em;margin-bottom:40px;'>BROOKSIDE FARM</p> +<p class='tp' >BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;'>MABEL C. HAWLEY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>AUTHOR OF “FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT OAK HILL SCHOOL,” “FOUR LITTLE<br />BLOSSOMS AND THEIR WINTER FUN,” ETC.</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:60px;'>THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING<br />COMPANY</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:40px;'>Akron, Ohio New York</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-top:40px;'>Copyright MCMXX</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:5px;'>THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:20px;'>Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:40px;'><i>Made in the United States of America</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE RESCUE OF PHILIP</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_RESCUE_OF_PHILIP'>7</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AN INVITATION</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_AN_INVITATION'>18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AUNT POLLY</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_AUNT_POLLY'>26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE WILLING PACKERS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_THE_WILLING_PACKERS'>36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>DOT’S ADVENTURE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_DOTS_ADVENTURE'>45</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>BROOKSIDE AT LAST</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_BROOKSIDE_AT_LAST'>56</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE WRECK OF THE RAFT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_THE_WRECK_OF_THE_RAFT'>65</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>LEARNING TO MILK</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_LEARNING_TO_MILK'>76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>LOST IN THE WOODS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_LOST_IN_THE_WOODS'>86</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE BLOSSOMS GO BERRYING</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_BLOSSOMS_GO_BERRYING'>94</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE HOME LAUNDRY</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_THE_HOME_LAUNDRY'>104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>UP ON THE MOUNTAIN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_UP_ON_THE_MOUNTAIN'>114</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>LINDA IS UNHAPPY</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_LINDA_IS_UNHAPPY'>123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE PICNIC</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_THE_PICNIC'>132</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>WHAT MEG FOUND</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_WHAT_MEG_FOUND'>141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE NEW CAT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_THE_NEW_CAT'>153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>RAINY DAY FUN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_RAINY_DAY_FUN'>163</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE END OF THE VACATION</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_END_OF_THE_VACATION'>173</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span></div> +<h1>FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT BROOKSIDE FARM</h1> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_RESCUE_OF_PHILIP' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_RESCUE_OF_PHILIP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THE RESCUE OF PHILIP</h3> +</div> +<p>“Meg!”</p> +<p>The little girl curled up in the window-seat +did not move.</p> +<p>“Meg, you know Mother said we were to go +before four o’clock, and it’s half-past three now. +You’ll wait till the twins come in, and then +they’ll want to go, too.” Bobby Blossom looked +anxiously at his sister.</p> +<p>Meg put down her book and untangled her +feet from the window cushions.</p> +<p>“I’m coming,” she promised. “I never do get +a chapter all read, Bobby. Where’s my hat? I +see it. I’ll get it!”</p> +<p>Meg’s hat was on the lawn outside where she +had dropped it, and now she raised the screen +and tumbled through the window to the ground. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +It wasn’t far to tumble, and Meg had done it so +often she was sure of landing safely.</p> +<p>“Norah says no lady goes out of the house +through a window,” giggled Bobby, tumbling +after Meg and closing the screen carefully. +Bobby was always careful to leave everything +as he found it.</p> +<p>Meg giggled, too.</p> +<p>“I don’t care, long as I grow up to be a lady +like Mother,” she asserted. “Let’s hurry, Bobby, +and perhaps we can stop at the library.”</p> +<p>The children had reached the two stone posts +at the foot of the lawn when a loud shriek halted +them.</p> +<p>“Meg Blossom, you said I could go! Wait for +me!”</p> +<p>Down the slightly sloping lawn hurried a +short, thick-set little girl with dark eyes and hair +and the reddest cheeks you ever saw. She carried +a doll whose blue eyes opened and shut +snappily with every jump her small mother took. +This was Dot, Meg’s little sister.</p> +<p>“You said I could go,” panted Dot, when she +caught up with Meg and Bobby. “Wait for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +Twaddles, he’s coming. He wants to take the +kiddie car.”</p> +<p>“I told you so,” scolded Bobby. “I never went +uptown in my life all you children didn’t want to +tag along. You’ve got grease on your dress, +Dot.”</p> +<p>“Sam was cleaning the car,” said Dot serenely. +“I guess I brushed against the grease can. It +won’t show when I’m sitting down. There’s +Twaddles.”</p> +<p>Bumping its way over the green grass came a +kiddie car with a small boy astride it.</p> +<p>“I’m all ready,” he beamed. “Come on, +Bobby.”</p> +<p>“You can’t take that kiddie car,” announced +Bobby firmly. “Mother said this letter was to +go in the four o’clock mail and we’ve got to +hurry. If you and Dot want to go, you’ll have +to walk fast.”</p> +<p>Twaddles usually minded Bobby. He +promptly surrendered the kiddie car and continued +to smile pleasantly.</p> +<p>The four Blossoms trudged briskly along. If +you had ever lived in Oak Hill you would have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +known them. The whole town knew Meg and +Bobby and Dot and Twaddles, and the children +knew nearly every one, having lived in that one +place all their short lives.</p> +<p>Bobby was the oldest. He was seven, and was +remarkably like his sister Meg in looks. Both +had fair hair and blue eyes. Meg’s real name +was Margaret Alice Blossom, and she was named +for her mother. Bobby’s full name was Robert +Hayward Blossom. He was just a year older +than Meg.</p> +<p>The twins were the funniest and dearest little +couple, four years old and as roly-poly, happy-go-lucky +a pair of youngsters as ever tumbled +into one scrape after another and out again. +They were known as Dot and Twaddles to all +their friends, but, of course, they had “real” +names like other children. Dot was named for +an aunt, Dorothy Anna Blossom, and Twaddles +was Arthur Gifford Blossom, if you please. +Only no one ever called him that.</p> +<p>The Blossom children lived at the very tip +end of the long straggling street that divided +Oak Hill into two sections; in fact the Blossoms’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +rambling, comfortable old house was almost outside +the town limits. Father Blossom owned +the big foundry on the other side of the railroad.</p> +<p>“I’ll go in,” said Bobby, when they reached +the post-office. “You wait here.”</p> +<p>He disappeared into the yellow wooden building +that was the Oak Hill post-office, and the +other Blossoms, seeing a stalled car, stopped +to watch the troubles of the interurban motorman +whose trolley-car was blocked by a dog +that apparently wanted to be run over.</p> +<p>The motorman clanged his bell and a boy on +the curbstone whistled shrilly, but the dog refused +to budge. He only rolled over on his +side.</p> +<p>“He’s hurt,” said Meg. “See, his foot drags. +I’ll get him off.”</p> +<p>She dashed out into the street and bent over +the poor animal. Meg was “just crazy,” her +brothers said, about animals, and she was never +afraid of any four-footed creature. Now, as +she leaned over the little dog, he began to lick +her hand with his rough tongue.</p> +<p>“His leg’s broken,” Meg said pityingly to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +conductor and the motorman who had joined +her. “Oh, the poor doggie! But Doctor Maynard +will fix it.”</p> +<p>There was a crowd now gathered on the car +tracks, and Bobby, who had come out of the +post-office and heard from the twins what was +going on, pushed his way through to his sister.</p> +<p>“You hold your dress,” he directed. “I’ll +lift him. There!”</p> +<p>The little dog was a heavy armful for Meg, +but she held him bravely.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid of strange dogs myself,” declared +the conductor, plainly relieved that some one +else had tended to the dog. “What are you +going to do with him, little girl?”</p> +<p>“Take him to the doctor’s,” announced Meg. +“Aren’t we, Bobby?”</p> +<p>“Of course,” affirmed Bobby.</p> +<p>He and Meg, carrying the dog, went back to +where Twaddles and Dot were waiting. The +twins were used to waiting patiently while the +older children investigated sudden alarms and +excitements.</p> +<p>“Let me pat him,” begged Dot. “He’s pretty, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +isn’t he? Is he hurt, Meg? What are you +going to do with him?”</p> +<p>“Take him to Doctor Maynard’s,” said Meg +briefly. “I guess he’s in, ’cause it’s after four +o’clock.”</p> +<p>Kind, jolly Doctor Maynard was in. He was +the Blossoms’ family doctor, and knew the children +very well. He didn’t seem a bit surprised +to have the four of them walk into his consulting +room.</p> +<p>“Now, who’s sick?” he demanded, pretending +to be anxious. “Don’t tell me Dot needs gingerbread +pills? Or has Twaddles been eating too +much layer cake? Dear, dear, you can’t all +have the whooping cough!”</p> +<p>Meg smiled, a little watery smile. Tears stood +in her blue eyes.</p> +<p>“It’s this,” she said, spreading out her dress +on the couch so that the doctor could see the +dog. “I think his leg is broken.”</p> +<p>Doctor Maynard sat down on the couch and +the children crowded around him. The brown +eyes of the dog watched him intently as though +he knew that help was at hand.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>“Yes, it’s broken,” said the doctor gently, after +feeling of the slim little hind leg that dragged +so uselessly. “But we can mend it, Meg. I +have splints right here.”</p> +<p>While the others watched, Doctor Maynard +tore off long white strips of cloth and selected +two wooden splints. These he placed one on +each side of the broken leg and then directed +Meg to wind the strips firmly around while he +held the splints in place. This was to make the +leg grow strong and straight again.</p> +<p>“Doesn’t it hurt?” demanded Twaddles curiously.</p> +<p>“Yes, it hurts him,” admitted Doctor Maynard, +stroking the head of the little dog. “But +animals are splendid patients, and they seldom +complain. Now, then, our little friend is about +as good as new, except that he will have to go +on three legs for a bit.”</p> +<p>The telephone rang just then and it proved to +be a call for the doctor.</p> +<p>“I’ll have to run along, chicks,” he said hurriedly. +“Going to keep the dog, Meg?”</p> +<p>“If Mother doesn’t care,” answered Meg.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></div> +<p>“Mother won’t care,” said Bobby, as the children +were walking home. He was very fond of +his sister and tried to help her get whatever she +wanted. “Sam will let him sleep in the garage +and perhaps he will be a ratter. Sam likes a dog +that is a ratter.” Sam Layton was the man of all +work employed by Mr. Blossom.</p> +<p>Meg and Bobby took turns carrying the dog +home, and Twaddles mourned the fact that the +kiddie car had not been brought along.</p> +<p>“I could have given him a ride,” he explained. +“What makes his tongue hang out like that, +Meg?”</p> +<p>“He’s hot,” said Meg. “And I think he wants +a drink. Let’s take him around to the kitchen +and give him some water.”</p> +<p>As they neared the kitchen door some one +spoke to them through the screen.</p> +<p>“Meg! Meg! What’s this you do be bringing +home with ye? A dog? Most likely it has +the mange now, or some disease ye will all be +catching. Why can’t ye ever take up with a +nice, quiet cat? ’Tis no dog I’ll be having in me +clean kitchen, mind that!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div> +<p>Meg put the strange dog down on the gravel +path. He swayed unsteadily on three legs.</p> +<p>“Look, Norah,” she said. “His leg is broken. +Doctor Maynard set it. And we only want to +get him a drink of water. He’s thirsty. He +needn’t even come into the house.”</p> +<p>Norah had a sharp tongue, but her heart was +generous and sweet.</p> +<p>“The poor beastie!” she said, opening the +screen door of her jealously guarded kitchen. +“Bring him in, Meg. He do be having fever, I +suspect. I’ll get him a cup of water. Dear, +dear!”</p> +<p>Making a soft, sympathetic, clucking noise, +Norah hurried to get a cup of cool water which +the little dog lapped up greedily, standing on +his three good legs.</p> +<p>“Bobby said he thought Sam would let him +sleep in the garage,” said Meg. “I suppose it +is cooler there for him. All right, Norah, I’ll +carry him out. But we want to show him to +Mother.”</p> +<p>“She went to meet your father––she and Sam +with the car,” Norah told them. “And if I don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +get my biscuits in, they’ll be back before there’s +a thing cooked to eat.”</p> +<p>The children took the hint and hurried to +the garage. Bobby and Twaddles spread an +old mat for the dog in a cool, dark corner, and +very glad he seemed to be to have a place to +lie down.</p> +<p>“We’ll bring you some supper,” Meg promised, +patting him kindly. “You take a nap and +forget ’bout your troubles.”</p> +<p>“There’s the car round front!” shouted Twaddles. +“Bet you I see Daddy first.”</p> +<p>“Bet you don’t!” shrieked Dot.</p> +<p>With wild whoops the children tore round to +the front of the house and fell upon Father and +Mother Blossom just getting out of the car.</p> +<p>“We brought a dog home,” cried Bobby.</p> +<p>“Come out and see him,” urged Meg, clinging +to her Mother’s hand. “He’s a dear little +dog, and I love him already.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_AN_INVITATION' id='CHAPTER_II_AN_INVITATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>AN INVITATION</h3> +</div> +<p>The Blossoms all went back to the garage +and found Sam bending over the sick dog.</p> +<p>“He’s a cute little fellow, Mr. Blossom,” said +Sam. “Just a pup, too. Shouldn’t wonder if he +turned out to be a good ratter when his leg gets +well.”</p> +<p>That was the highest praise Sam could give +a dog, and Meg and Bobby were delighted.</p> +<p>“May we keep him, Mother?” they urged. +“He can live in the garage. Please, Mother.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom looked at Father.</p> +<p>“Well, Ralph?” she said.</p> +<p>“Why, keep him, of course,” counseled Father +Blossom, laughter-twinkles in his kind eyes. +“Norah is the sole objector in the family, and if +you can pacify her there’s no reason why we +shouldn’t have as many dogs as we want. Named +him yet, Meg?”</p> +<p>“I want to think about a name for him,” replied +Meg. “You can’t change names, you know, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +and I wouldn’t want him to have a silly name.”</p> +<p>“That’s my cautious daughter,” said Father +Blossom. “And now it seems to me that some +one said we were going to have supper early to-night.”</p> +<p>“We are,” declared Mother Blossom. “Children, +you have several things to do before you +are ready for the table. Your faces and hands +are a sight. Bobby, didn’t you go to the post-office? +Was there any mail?”</p> +<p>“I forgot, Mother––there was one letter for +you,” answered Bobby, pulling a crumpled envelope +from his pocket. “The dog kind of took +my attention,” he added.</p> +<p>Mother Blossom went into the house to read +her letter, and the four children scampered upstairs +to wash their faces and hands. Meg and +Dot shared the same room, and Bobby and +Twaddles slept in the room adjoining. Each +child had a little white bed and a separate bureau.</p> +<p>“I s’pose I’d better put on another dress,” said +Dot doubtfully. “Mother didn’t say to, though. +Shall I, Meg?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></div> +<p>“Well, I would,” advised Meg. “Not a +spandy clean one, ’cause you mussed up two yesterday. +Put on the green one again, can’t you?”</p> +<p>“I tore that,” objected Dot, who certainly had +bad luck with her clothes. “Oh, dear, I don’t +see why I wasn’t a bird with a dress all glued +on.”</p> +<p>“’Most ready?” asked Mother Blossom, who +had come upstairs while the little girls were +talking. “Let Mother tie your ribbon, Meg. +What’s the matter with Dot?”</p> +<p>Meg bubbled into a gay little laugh.</p> +<p>“She was wishing she was a bird with a dress +glued on,” she said. “Wouldn’t that be funny?”</p> +<p>“Yes, it would,” agreed Mother Blossom. +“But bring me the white piqué, dear, and let me +help you into it. Daddy is waiting for us.”</p> +<p>Dot was buttoned into a clean dress in a +minute, and then Mother Blossom had to call +Twaddles away from the basin in the bathroom +where he was playing in the water instead of +washing his hands, and she had to find a clean +handkerchief for Bobby, and then, at last, they +could all go downstairs.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>Father Blossom was playing the mechanical +piano, but he stopped as soon as he saw them.</p> +<p>“Everybody here to-night?” he asked. “Well, +that is fine! Come on, Dottie-mine, and Daddy +will tie your bib for you.”</p> +<p>The twins did not always have supper with +Mother and Father Blossom. Sometimes they +had their bread and milk at five o’clock and went +to bed at half-past six. It was a treat for them +to eat supper with their father.</p> +<p>Mother Blossom smiled at the eager faces.</p> +<p>“We’ve company coming,” she announced. +“Some one you love to have visit us.”</p> +<p>“When are they coming?” asked Meg.</p> +<p>“To-morrow,” answered Mother Blossom. “If +I hadn’t asked Bobby for the mail, we might +have been in a great pickle. She’s coming on +the nine-fifty-six to-morrow morning.”</p> +<p>“Aunt Polly!” shouted the four little Blossoms.</p> +<p>“Is it Aunt Polly, Mother?”</p> +<p>“How long will she stay?”</p> +<p>“Can we go to meet her?”</p> +<p>“Will she bring a trunk?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></div> +<p>Mother Blossom put her hands over her ears.</p> +<p>“Don’t all talk at once,” she begged. “Yes, +Aunt Polly is coming. She can’t stay long, not +even a week–––”</p> +<p>“But what do you think?” interrupted Father +Blossom. “She wants the four Blossoms to go +home with her!”</p> +<p>“Ralph, you’re not a bit better than Bobby,” +scolded Mother Blossom. “I didn’t want to +tell them to-night. However, there’s no use trying +to keep a secret in this family. Aunt Polly +has invited you all to spend the summer at +Brookside Farm.”</p> +<p>Well, of course, the children could talk of +nothing else after that. Aunt Polly Hayward +was Mother Blossom’s eldest sister. She was a +widow and lived on a fine farm many miles distant +from the town of Oak Hill. She came often +to visit Mother Blossom, and the children +thought there was no one like her. To go to see +Aunt Polly was a wonderful treat, and even +Bobby, who, as the oldest of the four little Blossoms, +had had more experiences than the others, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +had never been away from home in his life to +stay.</p> +<p>They were all up early the next morning, and +Sam and the car took Father Blossom to the +foundry immediately after breakfast so as to be +back in time to meet Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“Aunt Polly’s coming, Norah,” said Meg, happily, +as Norah was clearing the table.</p> +<p>“Sure, and I’ve heard nothing else since last +night,” rejoined Norah. “How is the dog, your +poor patient, this bright morning?”</p> +<p>Bobby and Twaddles and Dot looked at each +other.</p> +<p>“The dog?” repeated Bobby. “My goodness, +we forgot him!”</p> +<p>“I didn’t forget him,” Meg said. “At least, +I remembered him after I was in bed. I came +down to feed him, and Daddy heard me and +wouldn’t let me go out in my nightgown. He +took him some bread and milk. And this morning +I fed him before breakfast.”</p> +<p>“How’s he feel?” asked Twaddles sympathetically.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span></div> +<p>“He’s ever so much better,” Meg informed +him. “He can wag his leg some.”</p> +<p>“His tail, you mean,” corrected Bobby. “Dogs +don’t wag their legs.”</p> +<p>“They do, too,” argued Meg. “Anyway this +one does, so that shows he is better. And I’ve +thought up a name for him. I’m going to call +him Philip.”</p> +<p>Bobby stared.</p> +<p>“What do you want to call him that for?” he +said curiously.</p> +<p>“I read it in a book,” answered Meg. “He +looks as if he ought to be named Philip.”</p> +<p>Bobby was too surprised to argue, and just +then Mother Blossom called to them that Sam +was coming back with the car and they hurried +out to see who could go to the station.</p> +<p>“Aunt Polly will like to see us,” declared Dot +confidently. “And this dress is just as clean, +Mother. There’s only a tiny speck of egg on +a tuck––it doesn’t show a bit.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom sat down on the top step and +pulled Dot into her lap.</p> +<p>“It’s a duck of a clean frock,” she assured her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +small daughter, kissing her. “And do you know +there’s just one way to avoid disappointment, and +we’ll take it; we’ll all go to meet Aunt Polly. +If she has any bundles, she’ll just have to leave +them, or Sam can tie them on behind.”</p> +<p>Sam grinned.</p> +<p>When they reached the station Mother Blossom +announced that the children were to stay +quietly in the car while she went around to the +front platform to meet Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“Do you suppose she’ll bring us anything?” +asked Twaddles hopefully, as Mother Blossom +disappeared around the corner of the ticket +window.</p> +<p>“That isn’t polite,” reproved Meg quickly. +“You must be glad to see company whether they +bring you things or not.”</p> +<p>“There she is!” Dot stood up in the car and +pointed. “Aunt Polly!”</p> +<p>“Aunt Polly!” shouted the three other little +Blossoms loudly.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_AUNT_POLLY' id='CHAPTER_III_AUNT_POLLY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>AUNT POLLY</h3> +</div> +<p>Aunt Polly was short and stout with +merry blue eyes and curly dark hair that, +where it showed under her pretty hat brim, was +just touched with gray.</p> +<p>“Hello, Blessings!” she greeted the children, +as they spilled out of the car to meet her. +“Every one of you here? That’s fine. How do +you do, Sam? I’ve two bags there on the platform, +if you will get them.”</p> +<p>When they were all stowed away in the car, +Sam put the bags in the front where he and +Bobby sat, and backed the car out of the station +driveway.</p> +<p>“Well, have you decided to come home with +me?” Aunt Polly put the question to them +bluntly.</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms glanced uncertainly +at each other.</p> +<p>“Polly Hayward,” said Mother Blossom +gayly, “you know perfectly well no one could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +get four children ready to take a journey in three +days. Why, Dot has absolutely nothing to +wear!”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll lend her something,” smiled Aunt +Polly.</p> +<p>The children laughed at the idea of Auntie +lending any dress of hers to small Dot.</p> +<p>“We’ll fix it somehow,” declared Aunt Polly +comfortably. “I simply have to have those +youngsters for a visit at Brookside. We’re all +getting so fat and lazy with no one to stir us up. +Even the dog and cat need rousing.”</p> +<p>“We have a dog, Aunt Polly,” announced +Meg, her eyes shining. “His name is Philip.”</p> +<p>Before she had a chance to describe Philip +the car reached the Blossom house and stopped +at the side door.</p> +<p>“Here I am again, Norah,” said Aunt Polly, +as Norah came out to receive her.</p> +<p>“And ’tis glad I am to see ye, Mrs. Hayward,” +responded Norah heartily. “I’ll take +the bags, Sam. The guest room’s all ready, +ma’am.”</p> +<p>The four children went as far as the guest-room +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +door with Aunt Polly, and then Mother +Blossom waved them back.</p> +<p>“Auntie and I have a great deal to talk over,” +she said. “You run away and amuse yourselves +till lunch time, like good little Blossoms.”</p> +<p>“Wait till I give them what I’ve brought +them,” hastily interposed Aunt Polly. “Bobby, +you open that black bag and the four parcels +on top are for you children.”</p> +<p>Bobby opened the bag and took out four packages +neatly wrapped in paper and tied with +cord.</p> +<p>“How’ll we know which is which?” he asked.</p> +<p>“That’s for you to find out,” returned his aunt, +giving him a kiss.</p> +<p>Mother Blossom sat down on the bed and +began talking in a low tone to Aunt Polly and +the four children raced downstairs and out to +the garage to open their presents. They liked +the garage because there was plenty of space to +play in, where, indeed, they had four empty +rooms above the first floor for their own uses.</p> +<p>This morning they rushed upstairs so fast that +they never thought of Philip till, as they reached +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +the top step, Meg looked back and saw the little +dog painfully hobbling after them on his three +good legs.</p> +<p>“He wants to come, too,” she said. “Here, +Philip, come on up, good doggie.”</p> +<p>Philip managed to finish his climb and then +lay down on the floor, panting, but satisfied to be +where his friends were.</p> +<p>“I’ll give each one a package,” Bobby decided. +“Then we’ll open them, one at a time, like +Christmas. You first, Meg.”</p> +<p>Meg ripped the string off her parcel with a +single motion and pulled off the paper in such +a hurry that she tore it in two. Meg always hurried +to solve mysteries.</p> +<p>“Why, it’s a game!” she cried, when she had +opened the box. “All in pieces. Look!”</p> +<p>Bobby took a look and shrieked with delight.</p> +<p>“It’s an airplane,” he announced instantly. +“That’s mine, ’cause Aunt Polly knows I like +experiments. What you got, Dot?”</p> +<p>Dot hastily unwrapped her package and discovered +a doll’s trunk.</p> +<p>“With clothes in it for Geraldine,” she reported, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +after turning the tiny key and taking a +peep inside. “That’s mine all right. What’s +Twaddles got?”</p> +<p>Twaddles unwrapped his parcel slowly and +importantly. He was sure it was for him, and he +rather enjoyed making the others wait.</p> +<p>“Nothing but a book,” he said disgustedly. +“What kind of a book is it, Bobby?”</p> +<p>“That’s for Meg,” Bobby informed him. +“‘Black Beauty.’ Aunt Polly knows Meg likes +to read and is always fussing with animals. I +must have your present, Twaddles.”</p> +<p>The four Blossoms were more interested in +Twaddles’ gift than in their own because it was +the only one they had not seen. Bobby carefully +untied the string and wound it up in a neat ring; +then he slowly took off the paper and folded +that; finally he opened the flat box.</p> +<p>Twaddles promptly tried to stand on his head, +a habit he had when he was pleased. He never +did succeed in standing on his head, but he usually +turned a very good somersault. He did +now.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></div> +<p>“Give it to me,” he shouted, bobbing right side +up again. “See, Dot, it’s a water pistol!”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t think that’s a good thing to +give you,” pronounced Meg decisively. “You’ll +be hitting Dot in the eye.”</p> +<p>“Won’t, neither,” retorted Twaddles, feeling +unjustly accused. “Aunt Polly asked me what I +wanted most last time she was here and I told +her; and she said if I’d promise not to shoot at +people, she’d get me one. So there!”</p> +<p>Bobby, the peace-maker, proposed that they +all go in and show their presents to Norah, and +he helped Meg carry Philip downstairs because +she was sure the trip would hurt his leg. Bobby +was never in too much of a hurry to do what +Meg wanted him to do.</p> +<p>In the afternoon, after lunch, all the Blossoms +went for a long ride in the car, stopping at the +foundry office on the way home to pick up Father +Blossom. Still nothing was said about the children +going home with Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“Do you suppose Mother will let us?” asked +Dot, as Meg was helping her undress that night. +“Maybe she’s afraid I will use up my clean +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +dresses too fast, and Aunt Polly won’t have any +to put on me. But you could lend me yours, +Meg.”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t believe that’s the reason,” said +Meg slowly. “I tell you what I think––I think +Mother and Daddy have to plan a lot before they +know whether we can go. But you ought to be +more careful with your dresses, Dot.”</p> +<p>The next morning Mother Blossom announced +that if the children would come out on the porch +she had something to tell them. There was a +general stampede from the breakfast table––Father +Blossom had had an early breakfast and +had gone before the others were down––and +Aunt Polly in the swing and Mother Blossom in +a huge rocking-chair were nearly smothered in +a shower of kisses.</p> +<p>“Are we going to Brookside?”</p> +<p>“Are we going home with Aunt Polly?”</p> +<p>“Can I learn to milk a cow?”</p> +<p>“Do you have chickens, Aunt Polly?” +Four little voices chorused at once.</p> +<p>“Dear, dear,” chuckled Aunt Polly. “So +you’ve been thinking about Brookside all this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +time, have you? And what makes you think +your mother wants to talk about the farm with +you?”</p> +<p>Four pairs of eyes fixed their anxious gaze +upon Mother Blossom.</p> +<p>“Well, dearies,” said Mother Blossom in answer, +“Daddy and Aunt Polly and I have talked +this over, and we’ve come to a decision. It is +impossible for me to get you ready to go home +with Aunt Polly to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Mother!” mourned Twaddles.</p> +<p>“Would you want to go and leave Mother?” +that dear lady asked in surprise.</p> +<p>“Not––not exactly,” stammered the little boy. +“But I want to go somewhere awfully.”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t you go, too, Muddie?” suggested +Meg.</p> +<p>“Listen, and I’ll tell you what we’ve planned,” +said Mother Blossom. “Aunt Polly has to go +back to-morrow. We’ve tried to persuade her +to stay, but it seems the summer is a very bad +time to be away from a farm. But a week from +to-morrow, if you are all very good and help me +as much as you can, I will take you to Brookside +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +to visit Aunt Polly for a month, or as long as +she can stand four active youngsters in her quiet +house.”</p> +<p>“Hurrah!” shouted the four little Blossoms.</p> +<p>“Won’t that be great! Let’s get the trunk +down right away, Mother.”</p> +<p>“Well, I wouldn’t, not till Daddy comes +home,” said Aunt Polly, fanning herself and +smiling. “A week is plenty of time, and I hear +that Dot has to have some new frocks made.”</p> +<p>“Is Daddy coming?” Bobby asked suddenly.</p> +<p>“I wanted him to, for I think he needs a rest,” +said Aunt Polly soberly. “But the most we could +get him to promise was that he might come up +with your mother when it is time for you to go +home.”</p> +<p>“Mother’s going––she said so,” Meg reminded +her aunt.</p> +<p>“Only to take you to Brookside, Daughter,” +explained Mother Blossom. “Then I am coming +home again to stay with Daddy. You see, I +couldn’t leave him alone in this house for a +whole month. Think how lonesome he would +be.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></div> +<p>Twaddles thought this over for a moment.</p> +<p>“Well, I guess it will be a change for him, +’thout any children,” he remarked, with a sunny +smile.</p> +<p>Aunt Polly scooped him into her lap and gave +him a big hug.</p> +<p>“Now where in the world did you get that +idea?” she said.</p> +<p>“I found it,” confided Twaddles cheerfully.</p> +<p>Dot had already disappeared. She thought it +time to begin her packing. Presently they heard +her in the house tumbling books out of the bookcase +on to the polished floor.</p> +<p>“Glory be, whatever are ye doing?” came +Norah’s cry. “Haven’t I enough to be doing, +without ye upsetting a room as fast as I put it +in order?”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_THE_WILLING_PACKERS' id='CHAPTER_IV_THE_WILLING_PACKERS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>THE WILLING PACKERS</h3> +</div> +<p>Meg rushed into the house.</p> +<p>“Dot Blossom, you’re not to touch +my books,” she scolded. “The idea! Why +don’t you fuss with your own things?”</p> +<p>Dot looked vexed.</p> +<p>“I’m helping you,” she explained. “Don’t +you want to take your books to Aunt Polly’s to +read rainy days? Well, then, I’ll pack ’em for +you.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom had followed Meg, and now +she intervened.</p> +<p>“No one is to pack anything to-day,” she +said firmly. “I want Dot to go into town with +a message for Miss Florence. And Meg must +practice on the piano half an hour at least. This +afternoon we’re going to take Aunt Polly driving. +After she goes home there will be plenty +for all of us to do to get ready.”</p> +<p>Miss Florence Davis was the dressmaker who +often came to the house to make clothes for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +Blossom children, and Dot set off presently for +her house, carrying a note to her. Miss Florence +had no telephone. She said she wasn’t home long +enough to answer it. But she always left a slip +of paper pinned to her door to tell people at +whose house she was sewing, and her customers +were used to going about the town till they +found her.</p> +<p>“She says she can come,” reported Dot when +she returned from her errand. “She can give +you four days, Mother. Where are the boys?”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom looked at her small daughter +and sighed.</p> +<p>“I thought you knew Sam painted the fence +last night,” she said mildly.</p> +<p>“I did, but I forgot,” explained Dot, trying +to fold over a pleat so that the vivid streaks of +green paint would not show. “I guess I kind +of brushed up against it, Mother.”</p> +<p>Usually when Aunt Polly went home the four +little Blossoms were disconsolate, but the next +morning they saw her to the station quite cheerfully. +Were they not going to Brookside themselves +exactly one week from that day?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></div> +<p>“Now we must fly around and get ready,” announced +Bobby, when they returned to the house. +Bobby had a great trick of remembering speeches +he had heard older folk make.</p> +<p>“Indeed then and you must,” agreed Norah, +who was sweeping the porch. “Your mother +wants Dot in the sewing room. Miss Florence +is ready to try on. And, Bobby, it’s sorry I am, +but we’re out of soap.”</p> +<p>It was rather a long walk to the grocery store, +and Bobby didn’t think that going for soap +promised one bit of excitement. Neither did +Meg want to practice the piano scales that one +day were to make her a good musician. Norah +knew something of what they were thinking.</p> +<p>“You’ll both be helping your mother to get +ready to go,” she said earnestly and kindly. “I’ve +got extra washing to do, for all your clothes +must be clean. And if Meg’s going to stop +learning music every time a new plan comes up, +she’ll grow up to be terrible ignorant of lots of +things.”</p> +<p>“All right, I’m going,” said Bobby quickly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +“An’ you’ll be through by the time I get back, +Meg. Then I guess we can pack the toys.”</p> +<p>Twaddles, left alone, wandered up to the sewing +room.</p> +<p>“Hello, Twaddles,” said Miss Florence pleasantly. +“Have you come up to see what pretty +dresses Dot is going to have? And what is this +I hear about every one going to Brookside?”</p> +<p>“We’re going to see Aunt Polly,” explained +Twaddles. “And, Mother, can we take toys? +Bobby’s all ready to pack ’em as soon as he gets +back.”</p> +<p>“If you don’t pack something pretty soon, the +house won’t hold you,” observed Mother Blossom, +smiling. “You see, Twaddles dear, Mother +doesn’t believe you will need many toys at Brookside. +There will be so many wonderful new +out-of-door things for you to play with. Suppose +we say that each of you may choose the +two things you are fondest of. That won’t make +so much to carry.”</p> +<p>So that was settled, and when Bobby came +back from town and Meg had finished practicing +scales and Dot’s three new dresses had all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +been tried on, the children went upstairs to their +playroom to select the toys they thought they +would want to take with them.</p> +<p>“I think we ought to take the things Aunt +Polly gave us,” announced Meg. “They’re new, +and we haven’t played with them much. She +might think we didn’t like ’em if we left them at +home.”</p> +<p>“All right, we will,” decided Bobby. “And +I’ll take my ball and bat. Guess I won’t break +Aunt Polly’s windows. There must be lots of +room on a farm.”</p> +<p>“I’m going to take the paper dolls,” said Meg. +“I’m pretty sure Aunt Polly will have books to +read, so that’s all right. What you going to take, +Dot?”</p> +<p>“Geraldine and Tottie-Fay and the trunk,” +was the prompt response.</p> +<p>“That’s three,” Meg reminded her. “Mother +said we could each have two. I tell you––you +don’t need the trunk; just take Geraldine’s new +clothes.”</p> +<p>“All right,” acquiesced Dot briefly.</p> +<p>Tottie-Fay was an old dollie, but dearly loved, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +and, as Father Blossom said when he heard that +she was going to Brookside, no one could need +a change of air more.</p> +<p>“I’m going to carry my kiddie-car,” declared +Twaddles serenely.</p> +<p>The others protested that the kiddie-car +wouldn’t go in the trunk; that there would be +no pavement on which to ride it; that Twaddles +should take a smaller toy.</p> +<p>Twaddles listened politely and set his obstinate +little chin firmly. He meant to take the +kiddie-car.</p> +<p>“We’ll express it,” said Father Blossom kindly +that night. “I’m going to send a porch swing +up and a–––Oh, my goodness, I almost told +you. And it is a <i>surprise</i>!”</p> +<p>“What is it?” cried the four little Blossoms +eagerly. “Tell us, Daddy! Ah, do! Please!”</p> +<p>“It can be a surprise for Aunt Polly,” suggested +Meg artfully. “Won’t you tell us, +Daddy?”</p> +<p>“No. I like surprises that are surprises,” asserted +Father Blossom. “Now, not another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +word does any one get out of me on this subject. +Not a word.”</p> +<p>The next few days were very busy ones; but +at last two trunks were brought down and +placed in the hall, and Mother Blossom made +lists and packed and explained her plans to Meg +and Bobby, who, as the oldest, could be expected +to remember.</p> +<p>“All the stockings are here, dear, right in this +tray,” Mother Blossom would say. “And I’m +putting Bobby’s blouses in this trunk. You are +sure you will remember so that Aunt Polly +needn’t be bothered in case I don’t get both +trunks unpacked for you?”</p> +<p>Meg was sure she could remember.</p> +<p>“Where’s Twaddles?” asked Mother Blossom +the last afternoon, when she was putting in the +very final things. “I haven’t seen him since +lunch time. Dot, do you know where he went?”</p> +<p>“I think he’s watching Sam give Philip a +bath,” volunteered Bobby. “He likes the smell +of that dog soap, Mother.”</p> +<p>“I can’t say I do,” said Mother Blossom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +frankly. “It is strongly carbolic. Go and call +him in, will you, Bobby?”</p> +<p>Bobby found Twaddles blissfully watching the +shivering Philip enduring a last rinsing after +his bath. Sam liked to keep him clean, and he +said that because a dog had a broken leg was +no reason why he shouldn’t be washed.</p> +<p>“Mother says for you to come in,” Bobby told +his brother. “It’s time to get ready for supper. +Gee, that soap does smell, doesn’t it?”</p> +<p>“I like it,” Twaddles affirmed, sniffing luxuriously. +“I wish we took baths with that kind.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom sent him to the bathroom to +wash his face and hands and she brushed his +hair for him herself.</p> +<p>“What is that I keep smelling?” she asked once +or twice, “Oh, the carbolic dog-soap. Twaddles, +I do wish you wouldn’t handle it so much.”</p> +<p>“Who’s been to the drug store?” said Father +Blossom, when they sat down to supper. +“Phew! I smell carbolic, strong.”</p> +<p>“Philip had a bath,” explained Twaddles uneasily. +“Perhaps you smell it, Daddy.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></div> +<p>“Twaddles means the soap,” giggled Meg. +“You can’t smell a bath, silly.”</p> +<p>Father Blossom laid down his carving knife +and fork.</p> +<p>“I can’t stand that,” he declared positively. +“Twaddles, you needn’t tell me just handling a +soapy dog is responsible for the whiffs of carbolic +I’m getting. What is that in your pocket?”</p> +<p>A dark wet stain was slowly spreading in the +square little pocket of the blouse Twaddles +wore.</p> +<p>“I––I saved a piece,” he stammered. “I +thought Spotty, Aunt Polly’s dog, ought to have +some. It’s awful healthy for dogs, Daddy. Sam +says so.”</p> +<p>Father Blossom had to laugh.</p> +<p>“I don’t doubt it,” he admitted. “But that’s +no reason why we should have to smell it. Wrap +it up and put it away if you like for Spotty. And +then come back and we’ll see if we can finish +supper in peace.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_DOTS_ADVENTURE' id='CHAPTER_V_DOTS_ADVENTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>DOT’S ADVENTURE</h3> +</div> +<p>“Good-by, Daddy! Good-by, Daddy +dear! Good-by, dear, darling Daddy!”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms all tried to hug their +father at once. They were at the station, where +Sam and the car had brought them, and the train +that was to take them on the first lap of the journey +to Aunt Polly’s farm was turning the curve +down the track.</p> +<p>“Be good,” said Father Blossom, speaking as +clearly as he could with Dot hanging around his +neck and Twaddles pounding his chest affectionately. +“Help Mother all you can, and be sure +to write me nice letters.”</p> +<p>The long, shiny train glided into the station, +and there was a scramble among the people +waiting on the platform. Apparently every one +wanted to be the first to get on. It took Mother +and Father Blossom and Sam and the jolly conductor +to see that all four of the little Blossoms +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +and the two bags were stowed away comfortably +in two seats.</p> +<p>Then Father Blossom and Sam got off and +stood on the platform talking through the open +window until the train began to move slowly.</p> +<p>“Good-by!” shouted the children. “Good-by, +Daddy! Good-by, Sam!”</p> +<p>Meg leaned over Twaddles, who was seated +next to the window.</p> +<p>“Don’t forget to feed Philip,” she cried.</p> +<p>Sam waved his hand to show that he heard +and understood, and the train went faster and +faster. In a few minutes Oak Hill station was +far behind them.</p> +<p>“Now we’re started,” announced Bobby, with +satisfaction.</p> +<p>“Did my kiddie-car get on?” asked Twaddles +anxiously. “S’posing they forgot it?”</p> +<p>“Is that why you were hanging round the baggage-room?” +demanded Bobby. “Course the +kiddie-car is on. I saw Mr. Hayes putting it +on. You ask the conductor.”</p> +<p>But the conductor, who came through presently +for tickets, didn’t know.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div> +<p>“I tell you what you do,” he said, his eyes +twinkling at Twaddles. “You ask the brakesman +to take you into the baggage car and let you +look around. Then you can see for yourself.”</p> +<p>“But that is making a great deal of trouble,” +protested Mother Blossom. “You can easily +wait till we get to Brookside, dear.”</p> +<p>“Let him go, let him go,” advised the conductor +cheerily. “It will kind of break up the +monotony of the trip, ma’am. These little folks +are going to get pretty tired before they get to +Alawana.”</p> +<p>So Twaddles marched off importantly with the +conductor to find the young, good-natured +brakesman, and the three little Blossoms rather +wished they could go, too.</p> +<p>“What happens when we get to Alawana, +Mother?” asked Bobby. “Do we change cars?”</p> +<p>“No, dear, we take the boat,” explained +Mother Blossom. “If the train is on time we +have an hour to wait, which will allow us to +have lunch; then we take a steamer that takes us +up Lake Tobago to Little Havre. There we take +a stage, or a wagon, or whatever they have to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +meet the boat, and ride to Four Crossways; and +there Aunt Polly meets us and drives us over to +Brookside.”</p> +<p>“Here comes Twaddles,” announced Dot. +“Did you find the kiddie car?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, it’s there,” reported Twaddles, squeezing +in past Meg, and climbing into his place beside +his twin. “There’s lots of trunks and things +there, too.”</p> +<p>During the long stretches when the train +hummed steadily along and there was nothing +to be seen from the car windows but miles and +miles of green fields and woods with here and +there a house, the children played a game +Mother Blossom had known when she was a +little girl.</p> +<p>“My ship is loaded with apples,” Bobby would +say.</p> +<p>“My ship is loaded with apricots,” Meg would +declare.</p> +<p>Dot usually had to think a minute.</p> +<p>“My ship is loaded with––with ashes,” she +might announce finally.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></div> +<p>“My ship is loaded with at;” this from +Twaddles.</p> +<p>“Oh, Twaddles!” Bobby would scold. “You +can’t load a ship with ‘at.’ That isn’t anything.”</p> +<p>“’Tis, too,” maintained Twaddles stubbornly. +“It begins with ‘a,’ doesn’t it? And it’s a word. +So there.”</p> +<p>If Twaddles had his way and was excused +from thinking up another word, it would be +Mother Blossom’s turn.</p> +<p>“My ship is loaded with asters,” she might +say, smiling.</p> +<p>When no one could think of another word that +began with A, they would go on to B. This game +amused the children for many minutes at a +time. They had just started on words beginning +with C when the train reached Alawana.</p> +<p>“I’m hungry,” declared Meg, when they all +stood together on the platform and the train that +had brought them from Oak Hill was nothing +but a black speck in the distance. “We had +breakfast an awful long time ago.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div> +<p>“I guess it was yesterday,” said Dot mournfully.</p> +<p>Mother Blossom laughed.</p> +<p>“Poor chickens, you are hungry,” she said. +“Never mind, I see a nice little restaurant across +the street. Let me find out when the boat goes, +and then we’ll have a good, hot lunch.”</p> +<p>The Lake Tobago boat, Mother Blossom +found out, left in half an hour. Their train had +been late. However, the dock was not far off, +and Mother Blossom was sure they would have +time for sandwiches and milk at least.</p> +<p>All the children were tremendously excited +at the thought of going on a steamer, as not one +of them had ever been on a boat. There was no +lake or river near Oak Hill, and the largest body +of water the four little Blossoms had seen was +the town reservoir.</p> +<p>“If they have sails, I’m going to roll ’em up +and down,” Dot announced, so thrilled at the +prospect that she upset her glass of milk down +the front of her frock.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to wear it,” said Mother Blossom, +mopping her as dry as she could with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +napkin. “Perhaps I can put a dry dress on you +on the boat. Now try to eat quietly, dear; we +haven’t much time.”</p> +<p>The shower-bath of milk rather subdued Dot +for the moment, and lunch was finished without +further mishap. Then a brief walk through the +pretty little country town brought them to the +lake.</p> +<p>“O-oh! Isn’t it lovely!” breathed Meg. “Just +see how it sparkles in the sun. Don’t you like +it, Dot?”</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” agreed Dot carelessly.</p> +<p>Her quick eyes had spied an old organ grinder +and his monkey on the other side of the dock. +She slipped under the rope, where the people +who wanted to take the boat were standing, and +ran over to the music.</p> +<p>“We needn’t have hurried,” said Mother Blossom, +coming back to her little folk. She had +been to the office to have the baggage checks +looked after. “The boat is held up for another +half hour because of some engine trouble. +Where’s Dot?”</p> +<p>Well, where was Dot? Meg had thought her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +little sister was standing next to her. The boys +were sure she had been just behind them. Where +was Dot?</p> +<p>She stood in the crowd gathered about the +organ grinder, a little girl with shining dark eyes +and a milk-splashed frock, watching the clever +bowing and scraping of the small monkey with +evident delight. Then a sudden movement of +the people about her startled her. She remembered +that she was supposed to go somewhere +with the rest of her family. She saw people +hurrying toward a large automobile with nine +or ten long seats in it, and she hurried toward it, +too. A man helped her up the high step, and she +found a seat just behind the driver.</p> +<p>The automobile was lumbering up a narrow +white road with woods on either side of it before +Dot realized where she was.</p> +<p>“Why, this isn’t the boat!” she said aloud.</p> +<p>The lady seated next to her glanced at her +curiously.</p> +<p>“The boat?” she repeated. “This jitney goes +to Fermarsh. You’re not traveling all alone, +are you, little girl? You don’t look more’n five.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></div> +<p>“I was four in June,” announced Dot with +dignity. “Twaddles was, too. We’re twins. But +I have to go to Little Havre on the boat.”</p> +<p>“You’re going in the opposite direction,” said +the woman placidly. She did not seem to care. +“What’s that on your dress?”</p> +<p>Dot’s tears brimmed over.</p> +<p>“Milk,” she sobbed. “I tipped it over. An’ +I have to go on the boat with my mother.”</p> +<p>The jitney driver heard and turned.</p> +<p>“What’s this?” he asked. “You belong on the +boat, little girl? Well, now, don’t cry; we’ll +fix it. I heard they had engine trouble to-day, +and like as not they’ll be late starting. Long up +the road a spell we’ll meet the two o’clock jitney +coming back, and I’ll see that Dave Gunn takes +you in with him. An’ if you do miss the boat +my wife’ll take care of you over night and we’ll +ship you up to Little Havre on to-morrow’s +boat.”</p> +<p>Dot felt that the jitney driver was very kind, +but she hoped with all her heart that she would +not have to stay all night in a strange house. She +wanted her mother, and Twaddles and Meg and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +Bobby. She hadn’t known till this minute how +dearly she loved them.</p> +<p>Sure enough, their jitney had not gone very +far when they saw another jitney coming toward +them.</p> +<p>“Hi, Dave!” called the driver of Dot’s jitney. +“Got a passenger for you. A little lady who +tangled up her traveling directions and missed +getting on the boat. You take her with you, and +see that she lands on the steamer.”</p> +<p>Mr. Gunn stopped his machine and came over +to the other jitney.</p> +<p>“Come on, Sister,” he said pleasantly, lifting +Dot down gently.</p> +<p>“Why, you are little to be traveling on your +own. I’ve got three home ’bout your size.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom, as you may suppose, had +been nearly frantic all this time. She had taken +the other children on board the boat and had left +them on deck with the bags, after they had +promised not to stir from the spot where she left +them, and she had been going up and down the +dock making inquiries, and even walking up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +into the town, believing that perhaps some of the +store windows had attracted Dot.</p> +<p>No one remembered seeing a little girl in a +green dress and a brown straw hat.</p> +<p>Just as Mother Blossom was wearily wondering +if she should telegraph Father Blossom that +Dot was lost, a motor jitney lumbered down to +the dock. Some one in a green dress and a brown +straw hat was sitting on the front seat beside the +driver.</p> +<p>“Mother! Mother!” shouted Dot.</p> +<p>There was just time for her to tumble out of +the car into her mother’s arms, just time for +Mother Blossom to give the driver a dollar bill +and say a word of thanks, and then the steamboat +whistle blew loudly once.</p> +<p>“That means she’s starting,” said the jitney +man. “Run!”</p> +<p>And hand in hand, Mother Blossom and Dot +raced down the wharf and over the gangplank on +to the deck of the boat, just as it began to slide +away.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_BROOKSIDE_AT_LAST' id='CHAPTER_VI_BROOKSIDE_AT_LAST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>BROOKSIDE AT LAST</h3> +</div> +<p>“We thought you weren’t coming,” said +Meg anxiously.</p> +<p>“Where did you find Dot?” asked Bobby and +Twaddles in the same breath.</p> +<p>Dot smiled serenely.</p> +<p>“I came back myself,” she informed them. +“The jitney man told me how.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom sat down on a camp-stool and +fanned herself with Twaddles’ blue sailor hat.</p> +<p>“See if we can’t get to Brookside without any +more mishaps,” she commanded the children. +“If we had missed the boat, think of the worry +and trouble for Aunt Polly. Even if we telegraphed +she wouldn’t get it before she started +over to meet us.”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms promised to be very +good and to stay close together.</p> +<p>Lake Tobago was a small lake, very pretty, +and for some minutes the children saw enough +on the shores they were passing to keep them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +contented and interested. In one place two little +boys and their father were out fishing in a rowboat +and the steamer passed so close to them that +the four little Blossoms, leaning over the rail, +could almost shake hands with them.</p> +<p>“There’s another wharf! Do we stop there? +Yes, we do! Come on, Dot, let’s watch!” +shouted Twaddles, as the steamer headed inshore +toward a pier built out into the water.</p> +<p>“Keep away from the gangplank,” warned +Mother Blossom. “You mustn’t get in people’s +way, dear.”</p> +<p>The pier was something of a disappointment, +because when the boat tied up there the children +discovered that only freight was to be taken off +and more boxes carried on. There was only one +man at the wharf, and apparently no town for +miles.</p> +<p>“Doesn’t anybody live here?” asked Twaddles, +almost climbing over the rail in his eagerness +to see everything.</p> +<p>“Sure! There’s a town back about half a +mile,” explained the deck-hand who was carrying +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +on a crate of live chickens. “This is just +where farmers drive in with their stuff.”</p> +<p>“Let me see the chickens,” cried Dot, climbing +up beside her brother.</p> +<p>Her elbow knocked his hat, and because he +hadn’t the elastic under his chin, it went sailing +over on to the wharf. One of the men rolling a +barrel toward the steamer did not see the hat +and calmly rolled his barrel over it.</p> +<p>“Now you’ve done it!” scolded Meg, in her +big-sister anxiety. “That’s a fine-looking hat +to go to see Aunt Polly in. Hey, please, will you +bring it back here with you?”</p> +<p>The man with the barrel heard and turned. +He picked up the shapeless broken straw that +had been Twaddles’ best new hat, and brought it +to them, grinning. Several people who had been +watching laughed.</p> +<p>“It does look funny, doesn’t it?” said Meg. +“You’d better go and show it to Mother, Twaddles.”</p> +<p>Twaddles went back to Mother Blossom and +dangled his hat before her sadly.</p> +<p>“Oh, Twaddles!” she sighed. “Is that your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +hat? And we’re miles from a store. Here, let +me straighten out the brim. What happened +to it? Where did you go?”</p> +<p>Twaddles said truthfully enough that he +hadn’t been anywhere, and explained what had +happened to the hat. The boat was out in the +lake again by this time and steaming on toward +Little Havre.</p> +<p>“Where are the others?” asked Mother Blossom. +“Tell them we get off in fifteen or twenty +minutes, and I want them all to come and stay +near me.”</p> +<p>Presently the boat scraped alongside a wide +wharf and a number of people began to bustle +off.</p> +<p>“Where are we going now?” asked Twaddles, +his round eyes dancing with excitement. +Twaddles certainly loved traveling.</p> +<p>“Don’t you ’member?” said Meg importantly. +“We have to go to Four Crossways, and Aunt +Polly will meet us. There’s a bus that says +‘Four Crossways,’ Mother.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom had to see about the trunks +and the kiddie-car, which, it seemed, were all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +to go in a queer contrivance attached to the motor +bus, a “trailer,” the driver called it.</p> +<p>“Isn’t that nice?” beamed Bobby, when he +heard of this arrangement. “Our trunks will +get there the same time we do.”</p> +<p>The children watched this trailer being +loaded, and then all climbed into the bus and +began the journey to Four Crossways. There +were so many people on their way there that +Bobby and Twaddles had to be squeezed into +the front seat between the driver and the man +who took the fares, and they liked this immensely.</p> +<p>“We’re going to Brookside,” volunteered +Twaddles, who was sociably inclined, as soon as +the driver seemed to have his engine fixed to +suit him and the car was purring up the straight, +wide road.</p> +<p>“To see Aunt Polly,” chimed in Bobby.</p> +<p>“There’s a lot of you, isn’t there?” said the +driver, smiling.</p> +<p>When both boys said they had never been on +a real farm, the driver, whose name, he told +them, was Gus Rede, had so much to say about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +the fun that awaited boys on a farm and especially +such a fine place as Brookside that before +Bobby and Twaddles knew it the bus had +driven up to the post-office and there was dear +Aunt Polly waiting to welcome them.</p> +<p>“Bless their hearts,” she said warmly, when +she had kissed Mother and had hold of a child +with either hand. “Are they all tired out, poor +lambs? It’s a fearful place to get to, especially +the first trip.”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom assured her sister that they +were all right, and as glad to see her as she was +to see them.</p> +<p>“I left the car around on a side street,” explained +Aunt Polly, leading the way. “You see +so many horses are still afraid of automobiles +that we think it more thoughtful not to leave +’em standing on the main street. Yes, I drove +over alone for you––either Peter or Jud will +come over to-morrow for your trunks.”</p> +<p>This last was in response to a question Mother +Blossom had asked.</p> +<p>Aunt Polly’s car was large enough to hold +them all comfortably. Dot and Twaddles fell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +into a little doze, leaning against Mother Blossom. +They had had rather a long day. But +Meg and Bobby sat up very straight and asked +questions whenever Aunt Polly was not speaking +to their mother.</p> +<p>“Who’s Peter and Jud?” Bobby wanted to +know first.</p> +<p>“Peter Apgar is my tenant farmer and runs +the farm for me,” said Aunt Polly, pulling over +to one side of the road to let a huge load of hay +go past. “Jud is his son. You’ll like Jud. +They live in a house about a quarter of a mile +from our house.”</p> +<p>“How is Spotty?” came from Meg. “I +thought maybe you’d bring him with you.”</p> +<p>“Spotty is very lively and well,” answered +Aunt Polly. “I like a farm dog to stay at home +and watch things, so I’ve never trained him to +ride in the car with me. By the way, Meg, we +have a new addition to our animal family that +I’m sure you’ll like.”</p> +<p>Meg was immediately curious––what was it?</p> +<p>“The blackest cat you ever saw,” said Aunt +Polly. “And I think probably the largest. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +is so shiny, and not a white hair on him! He +belonged to the people on the next farm, but +spent about half his time with me; so when they +sold and moved away last week Poots was given +to me to keep.”</p> +<p>“Is that his name––Poots?” inquired Meg. +“How funny!”</p> +<p>“Well, he’s a funny cat,” replied her aunt. +“And now, children, if you look sharp you’ll see +Brookside!”</p> +<p>She turned the car into a neat graveled roadway +which parted a pretty concrete wall exactly +in half, while Twaddles was puzzling how those +things that looked to him like chickens could +ever turn into big juicy turkeys.</p> +<p>Eagerly the four little Blossoms tumbled out. +They saw a compact, modern house that looked +even from the outside as if one might find all +sorts of unexpected corners within. A green +lawn bordered each side of the driveway, and +in one direction was a red-tiled house with smoke +coming out of the chimney and in another a birdhouse +perched on a high pole near the gate the +four little Blossoms had just come through.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></div> +<p>Bobby spied the other house and Meg saw the +home for the birds, just as people always see +whatever they are most interested in first.</p> +<p>“Flowers!” said Dot.</p> +<p>She had seen the hollyhocks that stood up +straight and tall against the fence that shut off +the back of Aunt Polly’s house.</p> +<p>Peter Apgar had come up to take the car and +perhaps to see the new arrivals. The four little +Blossoms liked him at once, and when he spoke +in a soft, lazy drawl that was good-nature itself +they knew he was going to be a good friend.</p> +<p>“Can’t say you’re lonesome now, Miss Polly,” +he chuckled pleasantly. He always called her +Miss Polly, never Mrs. Hayward. “And I +guess Jud is as good as useless to me the rest of +the summer. What these youngsters don’t think +up to do, he will,” the farmer added, with a +broad grin.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_THE_WRECK_OF_THE_RAFT' id='CHAPTER_VII_THE_WRECK_OF_THE_RAFT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>THE WRECK OF THE RAFT</h3> +</div> +<p>Though all of the four little Blossoms +protested that they were not the least bit +sleepy, it was not long after Mother and +Aunt Polly had helped them to delicious brown +bread and honey and milk and baked apples +that they were stumbling up the stairs to baths +and bed. Linda, a girl about fifteen, who lived +with Aunt Polly and went to school in the winter +and worked during the summer, had made +the two pretty bedrooms as dainty as possible and +had left a vase of flowers on the table in each +room. It was Linda, too, who brought armfuls +of clean towels and showed them which was +the hot and which the cold water in Aunt +Polly’s white and green bathroom.</p> +<p>The next day the four children and Mother +Blossom and Aunt Polly, with Linda and Jud +part of the time and Spotty and Poots in constant +attendance, explored Brookside thoroughly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></div> +<p>They saw the poultry yard, where ducks and +chickens and guinea-hens and one lame turkey +lived happily together. The other turkeys +roamed all over the farm, and Aunt Polly said +that at night they slept out of doors in the trees. +She said they would be sick if cooped up in +houses, and that they had to roam half-wild to +thrive.</p> +<p>The visitors called on Mrs. Sally Sweet, the +beautiful gentle Jersey cow that gave such wonderful +rich milk; they saw the seven new little +white pigs; they took salt to the sheep that were +in a stony pasture and that came running when +Peter called to them from the bars.</p> +<p>They made the acquaintance, too, of Jerry +and Terry, the two faithful farm horses, and +Nelly Bly, the brown mare who had a small colt, +Felix, by her side. Meg had to be dragged +away from the colt. She said she had never +seen such a darling little horse.</p> +<p>Jud Apgar was a tall, lanky boy, with the same +pleasant drawling way of speaking his father +had, and the “evenest temper that ever was,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +Linda said. Linda should have known, because +she was a great tease.</p> +<p>On their way back from the sheep pasture +Aunt Polly and the Blossoms stopped at the tenant +house, and Mrs. Apgar asked them in to +taste of her fresh buttermilk. She had just finished +churning, and the children saw their first +churn. They admired the firm yellow butter, +but they did not care much for the buttermilk, +though Mother Blossom drank two glasses of it +and said it was delicious.</p> +<p>It was nearly dinner time now, for Aunt +Polly, like many people who live in the country, +liked to have her dinner at noon, and they all +hurried home to get freshened up for the meal. +Poor Dot, as usual, had managed to soil her +frock, and she had to be buttoned into a clean +dress.</p> +<p>“How’d you ever get that old egg on it?” +scolded Meg, nevertheless helping her to fasten +the buttons.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know eggs broke so easy,” explained +Dot. “I was looking in a nest where a hen was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +sitting, and she flew up and scared me. And I +just touched one of her eggs and it broke.”</p> +<p>Meg happened to glance from the window.</p> +<p>“Peter’s brought the trunks!” she cried. +“And the kiddie-car and a bundle that must be +the surprise Daddy told us about. Hurry, Dot.”</p> +<p>The two little girls ran downstairs and found +the others gathered about the trunks and parcels +on the front porch.</p> +<p>“Daddy’s surprise!” shouted Bobby. “Let me +open it, Mother?”</p> +<p>Mother Blossom handed him the shears and +he cut the heavy cord. Something brown and +heavy was inside.</p> +<p>“It’s a dress. No, it isn’t, it’s a tent! It’s a +tent and four Indian suits!” Bobby was so delighted +that he gave a war-whoop then and there +and began to do a war dance.</p> +<p>“An Indian suit!” shrieked Twaddles, trying +to stand on his head.</p> +<p>“Indian beads!” cried Meg, holding up a long +chain of bright colored glass beads.</p> +<p>“And feathers!” Dot, too, had been digging +in the package.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></div> +<p>The rest of the afternoon was a busy time for +them all. Jud helped them set up the tent on +the side lawn, and then the four little Blossoms +dressed up in their new suits and played Indians +to their hearts’ content. There were jackets +and trousers and feather head-dresses for Bobby +and Twaddles and squaw costumes and bead +chains for Meg and Dot. Jud made them each +a wooden hatchet, which completed the make-believe.</p> +<p>The next morning Mother Blossom had to +go back to Oak Hill. The children went as far +as the gate to say good-by to her, but both she +and Aunt Polly, who was to drive her over, not +in the car but with Nelly Bly and a smart-looking +red-wheeled buggy, thought that it was better +for them not to go to town.</p> +<p>When they had kissed her good-by and +watched the buggy till it was nothing but a cloud +of dust in the road, the four little Blossoms began +to feel very queer indeed. They had never +been alone in a strange place without any mother +before.</p> +<p>“Well, my goodness, if you’re not here,” said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +Jud cheerily, coming up behind them. He pretended +not to see the tears beginning to splash +down Dot’s cheeks. “I’m going down to the +brook to mend the line fence, and I thought if +you wanted to come along and play in the +water–––”</p> +<p>They did, of course. Dot slipped her hand +into Jud’s and the others followed, talking busily. +What was a line fence? How could he +fix it? What could they play in the water?</p> +<p>Jud didn’t mind questions at all. Indeed, he +rather enjoyed answering them.</p> +<p>“You see, this fence goes along the brook right +in the center,” he explained carefully, “to show +where your Aunt Polly’s land stops and Mr. +Simmond’s land begins. If we didn’t have a +fence there his cattle would walk right through +the brook and up into our meadows. Say, build +a raft, why don’t you? I always did when I +was a kid. Here, I’ll show you.”</p> +<p>Jud in a few minutes had shown Bobby how +to make a little raft, and he and Twaddles finished +it while Meg and Dot ran up to the house +to get some toys to sail on it. For a raft, you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +know if you have ever made one, is no fun at all +unless it has a cargo.</p> +<p>“We brought Geraldine!” cried Dot, running +back, out of breath, with her best doll. “And +now I wish I’d brought her trunk. But here’s +Meg’s ‘Black Beauty’ book. She says we can +play that’s a trunk. It’s heavy. And Meg is +bringing your airplane, Bobby, and the singing +bird for Twaddles.”</p> +<p>The singing bird was a little toy one of the +neighbors in Oak Hill had given Twaddles. It +had come from abroad, and he was very proud +of it. It was a tiny yellow wooden bird that +wound up with a key and sang three tunes for +all the world like a music box.</p> +<p>Bobby fixed the string, and the children arranged +the toys on the raft, the smiling Geraldine +occupying the place of honor in the center +and leaning gracefully against the book which +served her as a prop.</p> +<p>“Look, Jud!” shouted Bobby. “See it float!”</p> +<p>Jud, in the middle of the stream, waved his +hand encouragingly.</p> +<p>“It’s beginning to sprinkle,” he called. “Better +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +run on up to the barn, out of the wet. You’ll +find Dad working there. Tie your raft––this is +only a shower.”</p> +<p>Bobby obediently tied the raft to a tree root +that extended out over the water, and the four +little Blossoms, taking hold of hands, raced +madly for the barn. They were only just in +time, for as they reached the door the rain fell +in sheets.</p> +<p>“Most caught you, didn’t it?” chuckled Peter, +who was mending harness in a little room that +opened on to the barn floor. “A rain like this +could drown that littlest one.”</p> +<p>“No, it couldn’t,” protested Dot, who was the +“littlest one.”</p> +<p>“Maybe Jud will drown,” worried Bobby. +“Does he stay out in the wet?”</p> +<p>“A bit of rain doesn’t hurt Jud,” said Peter +comfortably. “He’s used to it, and his mother +has dry clothes ready for him when he comes in. +Well now, look around, and make yourselves at +home. You can do most anything in Miss +Polly’s barn.”</p> +<p>“Let’s play see-saw,” proposed Meg, pointing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +to a long board that stood in the corner. +“Could we have that, Mr. Peter?”</p> +<p>“Of course you can. I’ll lay it across this saw-horse, +so, and that’s as fine a see-saw as any one +could ask for,” said Peter, lifting the heavy +plank with ease.</p> +<p>Bobby and Meg took possession of the see-saw, +and Dot and Twaddles made the simultaneous +discovery that hay was slippery. They +found this out because Twaddles had climbed +to the top of a pile of loose hay and was intending +to reach an open window when his foot +slipped and he gently slid down to the floor.</p> +<p>“Let me do that,” cried Dot, hastily scrambling +up. “Watch me, Meg.”</p> +<p>She sat down, gave herself a little shove and +neatly slid down the side of the hay. Then +Twaddles tried, and then they took turns.</p> +<p>Spotty appeared at the barn door, wagging his +tail engagingly. He was “part white terrier” +and “part something else” Jud had told the children, +and he had one funny black spot on his +back near his tail.</p> +<p>In less than half an hour the rain had stopped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +and a watery sun was struggling through the +breaking clouds.</p> +<p>“Bobby!” Meg thought of something so suddenly, +she stopped the see-saw with a bump that +jarred poor Bobby’s teeth. “What do you know +about the things we left on the raft? Geraldine +will be soaked!”</p> +<p>“And the wings of my airplane,” cried Bobby. +“Why, I never thought! We should have taken +the toys off. Let’s get ’em now, and maybe +Linda can dry them in the kitchen for us.”</p> +<p>Hastily calling the twins, Meg and Bobby set +off, running for the brook. The grass was very +wet and their shoes were soaked in a few minutes. +But they didn’t mind that if only the toys +were not damaged!</p> +<p>Bobby reached the brook first. No Jud was +in sight, but a neat, firm fence showed where he +had completed his work. No raft was tied to +the root, either.</p> +<p>“It’s gone!” gasped Meg, who had followed +Bobby closely. “My lovely book I’ve never +even read yet!”</p> +<p>“And my airplane I meant to have such fun +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +sailing out where there is lots of room,” said +Bobby mournfully. “Dot, the raft’s floated +away!”</p> +<p>Dot and Twaddles came up to them and Dot +at first could not believe the bad news.</p> +<p>“But you tied it, Bobby,” she urged. “How +could it get gone?”</p> +<p>“Don’t say ‘get gone,’” said Bobby absently. +“I don’t know how it got loose, but it has. You +can see for yourself. And all our toys are +lost!”</p> +<p>“Poor, poor Geraldine!” sobbed Geraldine’s +little mother. “All drowned! And Twaddles’ +Dicky bird! Maybe, couldn’t Jud have them, +Bobby?” she added suddenly.</p> +<p>Bobby had not thought of that.</p> +<p>“You run and ask him,” he said, “while we +walk down the brook a way and look for ’em.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></div> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_LEARNING_TO_MILK' id='CHAPTER_VIII_LEARNING_TO_MILK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>LEARNING TO MILK</h3> +</div> +<p>Dot ran off to the Apgar house as fast as +her short legs would carry her, to find +Jud and ask him if he had taken their toys in +out of the rain. The other children followed +Bobby along the brook.</p> +<p>“Because our feet are as wet as they can be, +now,” he said, “and if Aunt Polly is going to +scold, getting them wetter won’t make her scold +any more.”</p> +<p>“It looks like more rain,” worried Meg, scanning +the clouds. “Why don’t we go back, +Bobby, and come out after dinner? If the raft +floated as far as the woods, the trees will keep +it dry.”</p> +<p>Bobby was very damp and very hungry, and +he, too, thought that after dinner would be a +better time to hunt for the toys.</p> +<p>“Come on, Twaddles,” he shouted. “We’re +going back.”</p> +<p>Twaddles was some distance ahead, and he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +turned so quickly that one foot slipped. Meg +and Bobby saw him tumble into the brook with +a loud splash.</p> +<p>It wasn’t very deep, but it was very wet, and +though Bobby reached him in a second, poor +Twaddles was frightened.</p> +<p>“I’m so co-old!” he wept loudly. “I want +Mother!”</p> +<p>“Well, don’t stand here all day,” said Bobby +practically. “Take hold of Meg’s hand, and +we’ll run to the house. Linda was making soup +this morning, Twaddles. Think how good nice, +hot soup will taste!”</p> +<p>Meg took his hand, and, Bobby on the other +side, Twaddles ran with all his might toward +dry clothes and hot soup. It was raining hard +again.</p> +<p>“Why, children!” Aunt Polly met them at +the door, for she had long ago come back from +taking Mother Blossom to town. “Has anything +happened? I found Dot in the hammock +crying for her doll and–––But Twaddles is +dripping!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></div> +<p>“He fell in the brook,” explained Bobby concisely.</p> +<p>“Poor lamb!” comforted Aunt Polly. “Come +upstairs, dear, and Auntie will see that you’re +rubbed dry. And Bobby and Meg, don’t stand +around in those wet shoes one minute. Change +them immediately.”</p> +<p>Half an hour later four clean, dry little Blossoms +were at the table enjoying Linda’s delicious +soup and other good things. The day had +turned to a cold, rainy, dismal one, very different +from the promise of the sunny summer +morning. Aunt Polly said they would have to +manufacture their own sunshine that afternoon.</p> +<p>“You mustn’t think of going to hunt for the +toys till to-morrow, and only then if it’s clear,” +she announced firmly. “Likely as not the raft +sank, and you mustn’t feel too bad about the +toys. You’ll find plenty of other things to play +with on the farm.”</p> +<p>All that afternoon it poured, and all that +afternoon the four little Blossoms spent in +Linda’s kitchen cooking and pulling molasses +candy. They had the sweetiest, stickiest time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +you ever heard of, and when about six o’clock +the rain stopped and the sun came out pure yellow +gold, they had a plate of beautiful cream-colored +candy to take to Mrs. Peter Apgar.</p> +<p>“Who wants to help me milk?” asked Jud, +passing the kitchen door as they were talking to +his mother.</p> +<p>“Oh, Jud, I do!” begged Meg. “You promised +to show me how.”</p> +<p>“We’ll all come,” said Bobby. “Aunt Polly +isn’t going to have supper till seven o’clock to-night, +’cause the minister is coming. We’ve got +oceans of time.”</p> +<p>“Dot looks dressed up to me,” announced Jud. +“Keep her out of the mud, somebody.”</p> +<p>“This is my prettiest dress,” said Dot serenely, +smoothing down the folds of her white +dotted swiss under her coral-colored sweater.</p> +<p>Mrs. Sally Sweet looked mildly interested +when she saw such a number of people coming +into her comfortable barnyard, and when Jud +drove her into the barn and fastened her in the +stanchion, all the children stood around to +watch.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div> +<p>When Jud had the pail nearly full of milk, +he rose carefully.</p> +<p>“Now, Meg,” he said, “you sit here. Easy +now; don’t be nervous. Don’t you know a cow +won’t give milk if she knows you’re nervous? +Now work your fingers like this–––”</p> +<p>Meg sat on the three-legged stool and tried to +do exactly as Jud told her. Bobby and Dot and +Twaddles stared at her open-mouthed. She was +actually milking a live cow!</p> +<p>“Keep right on; that’s fine,” encouraged Jud. +“You’re doing first rate.”</p> +<p>His father called him just then, and he ran to +the door to see what was wanted. Meg, beaming, +kept on milking. All would have been well +if Mrs. Sally Sweet hadn’t remembered her calf, +Buttercup, and opened her mouth to give a tremendous +and unexpected, “<i>Moo!</i>”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms were sadly startled. +Meg jumped up, upsetting the pail of milk over +herself and Bobby, who stood nearest, and +knocking down Twaddles and Dot who were +close behind her. As luck would have it, both +twins pitched into a heap of soft hay and were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +not hurt at all. But when they scrambled to +their feet, alas! streams of yellow, bright yellow, +decorated Dot’s sweater and dress and splashed +Twaddles’ middy blouse.</p> +<p>“For goodness’ sake!” cried Jud, coming back +in time to view this wholesale damage. “What +have you been up to now?”</p> +<p>Meg explained.</p> +<p>“There must have been eggs in that hay,” said +Twaddles disapprovingly.</p> +<p>“Some hen stole her nest, and you’ve finished +her hopes,” sighed Jud. “I must say you’re a +sweet looking mess. Wonder what Miss Polly +will say?”</p> +<p>“My! and the minister’s coming to supper,” +announced Bobby, remembering this for the first +time.</p> +<p>“I thought you looked dressed up,” Jud +groaned. “I suppose I ought to have paid more +attention. Well, come on, we’ll go up the back +way and I’ll tell Miss Polly most of it was my +fault.”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms, eggy and milky, followed +Jud up to the house. He meant to take +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +them in through the kitchen in case the minister +should be on the front porch and so spare Aunt +Polly’s company the sight of such a forlorn procession. +But, just as they rounded the back of +the house, they met Aunt Polly showing the minister +and his wife her kitchen garden.</p> +<p>“Twaddles!” gasped poor Aunt Polly, for +Twaddles was ahead.</p> +<p>“We––we––we were learning to milk,” said +Meg apologetically.</p> +<p>The minister and his wife took one look at +the four, and then they sat down on the back +doorstep and laughed and laughed. After a +minute Aunt Polly joined them, and then the +children and Jud began to giggle.</p> +<p>“Hurry and get into something clean,” commanded +Aunt Polly, wiping her eyes. “Linda +is just putting supper on the table. I don’t care +what you put on, as long as it is clean. I spent +an hour dressing you, and now see the result.”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms made haste to scurry +into clean suits and dresses, and in a short time +were ready to come downstairs and meet the +minister and his wife properly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></div> +<p>“To-morrow morning,” said Bobby, as Aunt +Polly put out the light and kissed them good-night, +“we must go and hunt for the raft.”</p> +<p>But in the morning Peter Apgar rattled up to +the door while they were still at the breakfast +table, with Jerry and Terry harnessed to an +empty wagon.</p> +<p>“Anybody here want to go over to the mill +with me?” he called loudly.</p> +<p>Of course the four children were wild to go, +and Aunt Polly said that she was sure Peter had +room for every one.</p> +<p>“Take good care of them, Peter,” she said, +following them down to the gate.</p> +<p>“I will,” promised Peter. “I’ve got an old +quilt spread down in the bottom for them to sit +on. If the jolting tires ’em two can sit up with +me, taking turns.”</p> +<p>Spotty wagged his tail as they drove off, but +he would not follow the wagon. He knew it +was his place to stay and take care of Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>The mill was about four miles from Brookside, +and the children enjoyed the drive intensely. +Good-natured Peter allowed each one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +to “drive,” holding the reins carefully as he told +them, “Because,” said Peter seriously, “even if +you’re only learning, you might as well begin +right.”</p> +<p>When they reached the mill, Jerry and Terry +were tied to a post and Peter and the children +went inside. Bobby was rather disappointed +with the outside of the mill; he had expected it +to look like the mills he saw in pictures, with +great wide sails flattened against the sky.</p> +<p>“Electric power runs this mill,” Peter explained +when Bobby asked where the sails were. +“You’ll find plenty to see inside.”</p> +<p>A short, stout man in a dusty white coat met +them, and Peter gave him his order.</p> +<p>“I’ve some little folks from down the state a +way with me,” Peter told the man. “Guess you +can show ’em round the mill a bit this morning?”</p> +<p>“I should say so!” was the hearty answer. +“Come along, everybody, and we’ll see just how +grain is milled.”</p> +<p>It was not a real flour mill. That is, not one +of the great mills that turn millions of bushels +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +of wheat into flour; but it did grind buckwheat +for the farmers and made coarse flour and feed +for their stock, cracked corn for poultry and so +on. The four little Blossoms saw much to interest +them, but the great round stones that +ground the grains and the arrangements for sifting +the dust and chaff from the grain interested +them the most.</p> +<p>“It must be fun to be a miller!” said Bobby, +when they were ready to go and the noon whistle +blew and the big stones stopped turning as the +power was shut off. “Maybe when I grow up +I’ll run a mill.”</p> +<p>Rattling home in the big wagon with two +sacks of “middlings” in the back with them, +Twaddles and Dot decided that they, too, would +have a mill some day.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_LOST_IN_THE_WOODS' id='CHAPTER_IX_LOST_IN_THE_WOODS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>LOST IN THE WOODS</h3> +</div> +<p>Right after dinner the four children +started to hunt for the lost raft.</p> +<p>“It must have gone down the brook,” argued +Bobby, as they walked along. “Jud says +things always float with the current. So we’ll +start on Mr. Simmond’s land and walk slow.”</p> +<p>They scrambled under the line fence, and Dot +only tore one of the ruffles off her frock. They +went on and on.</p> +<p>“We’re almost to the woods,” said Meg, as +they dropped down under a ragged buttonwood +tree to rest. “Where do you suppose the brook +goes? Wouldn’t it be fun to follow it through +the woods and see what’s on the other side!”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms thought this would +be great fun. They had not been in the woods +yet, though Jud and Linda had promised to take +them some day and Aunt Polly said it was the +nicest kind of a place for picnics.</p> +<p>The children stood up, and shaded their eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +their hands. They could just see the eaves +of the barn and the chimneys of Aunt Polly’s +house and the Apgar house. The brook twisted +and turned so often, they had really walked further +than they guessed.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet it’s dark in the woods,” said Twaddles, +marching ahead. “Maybe there’s bears +and things in there.”</p> +<p>“Now don’t begin and scare Dot,” admonished +Bobby. “Let’s take hold of hands. My, isn’t +it nice and cool!”</p> +<p>They stepped from the sunny glare of the +brook pasture into the cool, dark, rustly stillness +of the beautiful woods. A chipmunk ran across +their path, and tall ferns grew higher than their +heads on either side of the brook.</p> +<p>Almost unconsciously the children left the +brook and struck off into a pretty path that was +laid with stepping stones and led up a slight hill. +They saw two rabbits and heard gray squirrels +chattering in the trees overhead. One squirrel +came down and stared gravely at them.</p> +<p>“Isn’t he pretty?” said Meg. “I wish he’d let +me pat him.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></div> +<p>A shriek from Dot startled them all.</p> +<p>“I saw a snake!” she cried, running to Meg. +“A horrid, nasty little green one. And now I’ve +lost my flowers!”</p> +<p>Sure enough, the bouquet she had been picking +was scattered in all directions.</p> +<p>“Don’t you care,” Meg comforted her. “It +was only a baby water snake. Aunt Polly told +Mother that’s the only kind that lives round +here. Honestly, snakes are all right, Dot. Lots +of people don’t mind ’em a bit.”</p> +<p>“Well, I do,” said Dot decidedly. “They +wiggle so. Let’s go home anyway.”</p> +<p>“I think we’d better,” announced Bobby. “I +don’t know what time it is, but I guess there’s +no use looking for the raft any more.”</p> +<p>“The raft?” echoed Meg. “Oh Bobby, +where is the brook?”</p> +<p>Bobby grinned a little sheepishly.</p> +<p>“We forgot about the raft, didn’t we?” he +said. “Let’s see––we came down that path––the +brook must be over there. Come on, Dot, +we’re going home.”</p> +<p>Dot sat down on the ground and began to cry.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span></div> +<p>“I don’t want to be lost,” she wailed. “I’m +hungry, and my feet hurt! And I’m so tired!”</p> +<p>Meg put her arms around her sister.</p> +<p>“Don’t cry,” she urged her bravely. “We’re +not lost, are we, Bobby?”</p> +<p>Bobby and Meg, as the two older, felt that +they must keep the twins from becoming discouraged.</p> +<p>“Course we’re not lost,” asserted Bobby +stoutly.</p> +<p>“Course not,” echoed Meg. “I think the +brook is right past those three big trees. Come +on, Dot, let’s run and see who gets there first.”</p> +<p>Dot allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.</p> +<p>“I’ll count for you,” said Bobby, glad to see +her stop crying. “One––two––three––go!”</p> +<p>Away went Meg and Dot. Meg had intended +to let Dot win, because she was so much +smaller she couldn’t be expected to run as well +as her older sister. But Meg’s good intentions +came to nothing. Dot had an unfortunate habit +of shutting her eyes tight when she ran, and the +woods, of all places, are where it pays to keep +one’s eyes wide open. Poor Dot, running over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +the uneven ground with her eyes closed, crashed +headlong into a wild blackberry bush.</p> +<p>“Oh, ow!” she wailed shrilly. “Meg, Meg! +Ow!”</p> +<p>Her face and hands were scratched and bleeding +and her dress was badly torn by the time +Meg and Bobby got her free from the prickly +bush.</p> +<p>“I won’t go,” sobbed the unfortunate child, +rubbing her smarting face. “I’ll lie down in the +grass and the birds can cover me with leaves. +Nasty old woods!”</p> +<p>“But you’ll have to come,” urged Bobby. “I +don’t b’lieve it’s much further, Dot. Come on.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll take of my shoes and stockings,” +said Dot.</p> +<p>“Her feet are all puffed up,” said Meg, unbuttoning +the little tan shoes. “Poor sister! +But you can’t go barefoot through here––the +Stones and things are too sharp.”</p> +<p>“They’ll cut you,” said Twaddles, who was +watching anxiously.</p> +<p>“Let’s make a chair with our hands and carry +her,” suggested Bobby.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></div> +<p>So Meg and Bobby joined hands and managed +to start off comfortably, carrying Dot.</p> +<p>Twaddles looked at them anxiously.</p> +<p>“It’s getting dark,” he quavered.</p> +<p>It was, too, a shadowy gray dusk there in the +woods.</p> +<p>“I guess it’s only ’cause there’s so many trees,” +said Meg cheerfully. “It can’t be dark out in +the fields yet. I don’t believe Jud has even +started to milk.”</p> +<p>They took up Dot again and went ahead, but +it grew more and more difficult to follow the +path.</p> +<p>“Here’s where we were when you stopped to +get your breath,” declared Twaddles positively +as they came into an open space. “I ’member +that rotten log on the ground.”</p> +<p>It was true. They had been walking in a circle!</p> +<p>“What’s that?” cried Meg, starting up in sudden +fright.</p> +<p>The twins clung to her, hiding their faces in +her skirt.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></div> +<p>“I saw something move––over there in those +bushes,” whispered Bobby.</p> +<p>“Is it––a––a bear?” asked Meg softly.</p> +<p>But Dot heard her.</p> +<p>“It’s a bear!” she shrieked. “Twaddles, Meg, +Bobby, come quick! It’s a bear!”</p> +<p>Something bounded out of the bushes and +leaped upon them with shrill, sharp barks.</p> +<p>“Spotty!” chorused the children. “You dear, +darling old Spotty! Where did you come +from?”</p> +<p>Spotty was apparently as glad to see them, +and in his way tried to tell them so. He jumped +up and down, barked excitedly and licked their +hands and faces over and over.</p> +<p>“Say, I’ll bet you Spotty knows the way +home!” Bobby jumped to his feet as this thought +came to him. “Spotty, show us the way home, +that’s a good dog. Home, Spotty!”</p> +<p>Spotty wagged his tail heartily and barked +once. Then he rushed a little way ahead and +turned to look at the children.</p> +<p>“Come on,” he seemed to say.</p> +<p>“He does know,” agreed Meg excitedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +“Put your shoes on, Dot. All take hold of hands +and hurry!”</p> +<p>They were in such haste they put the left shoe +on Dot’s right foot and the right one on her left, +but she never even noticed it. Taking hold of +hands, the four little Blossoms scurried through +the dark woods, for it was pitch dark now, after +Spotty. The dog kept just a little way ahead, +and now and then he barked as if to tell them +that everything was all right.</p> +<p>It was not easy walking in the dark, and they +tripped and stumbled over tree roots and unsuspected +stones. But at last they came out into +the open. The stars were shining overhead, and +it was night.</p> +<p>“Where are we?” asked Meg in wonder. +“This isn’t the brook pasture.”</p> +<p>“I see the gate light!” cried Bobby suddenly.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_BLOSSOMS_GO_BERRYING' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_BLOSSOMS_GO_BERRYING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>THE BLOSSOMS GO BERRYING</h3> +</div> +<p>Sure enough, ahead of them twinkled the +pretty ornamental light that Aunt Polly +had lighted on dark nights to show where +the driveway went through the gates.</p> +<p>“We’re in back of the house!” cried Meg. +“See, that’s the kitchen window where the white +curtain is. Don’t things look different at +night?”</p> +<p>“Hello! Hello!” came Jud’s clear call. +“Bobby, Meg, is that you?”</p> +<p>Then as Bobby answered him, they heard Jud +shouting:</p> +<p>“All right, folks, they’ve come. I told you +they were all right.”</p> +<p>Peter and Jud and a neighbor’s boy came running +toward the children, swinging lanterns, and +followed by Mrs. Peter Apgar and Aunt Polly +and Linda. Such a time as there was, and such +a hugging and kissing and explaining!</p> +<p>“When you didn’t come home to supper, I began +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +to worry,” said dear Aunt Polly, carrying +Dot, big girl as she was. Peter had picked up +Meg, and Jud had shouldered Twaddles, while +Bobby kept running beside them.</p> +<p>“You must be starved,” was Linda’s greeting. +“We’ve got fried chicken and currant jelly, +too.”</p> +<p>And though it was late, Aunt Polly was sure +that fried chicken would hurt no one, and while +the hungry Blossoms ate, she sat by and listened +to what had happened to them in the woods.</p> +<p>“Why, darlings,” she cried over and over, +“Auntie will buy you other books and toys, but +I couldn’t possibly buy your mother other children +if anything happened to you. Look at +Dot’s feet; the poor child must have walked +miles. And her face and hands are terribly +scratched.”</p> +<p>Directly after supper the tired children were +ready for bed, and Linda and Aunt Polly undressed +them and bathed the sore little feet and +put soothing cold cream on sunburned, scratched +little faces.</p> +<p>The summer weeks flew merrily by, and when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +a rainy afternoon came and Aunt Polly suggested +that the children should write to their +father and mother, the Blossoms discovered that +they really had a good deal to tell.</p> +<p>“I’ll begin, ’cause I’m the oldest and I can +write in pencil,” said Bobby. “Then Meg can +print, and I’ll write what Dot and Twaddles +tell me to. I guess they will like that kind of +letter.”</p> +<p>Aunt Polly thought so, too, and she gave +Bobby her own pretty mahogany “secretary” +that was ever so old a desk, to write at.</p> +<p>Bobby put his tongue in his cheek and worked +hard for fifteen minutes. Then he was ready +to read aloud.</p> +<p>“‘Dear Daddy and Mother:’” he read. “‘We +thought you would like to hear from us. Last +week Peter was haying and Meg and I helped +him make loads. Meg drove into the barn all +by herself. It is fun to see them unload the hay, +because they have a thing they call a hayfork +that comes down and takes up big handfuls and +carries it up to the mow. I can almost milk. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +The twins are very good most of the time. Your +loving son, Robert Hayward Blossom.’”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>“Will they know that’s from you?” asked Meg +doubtfully, slipping into the chair at the desk +and taking up the pencil to print her letter. +“You never call yourself Robert.”</p> +<p>“I guess I know how to write a letter,” Bobby +informed her with dignity. “You always sign +your real names to letters, don’t you, Aunt +Polly?”</p> +<p>“Yes, indeed, dear,” said Aunt Polly, who was +doing something to a pair of overalls.</p> +<p>Meg printed slowly and carefully, and soon +her letter was ready to be read aloud.</p> +<p>“‘Dear Daddy and Mother,’” she began +proudly. “‘We hope you are well. We are. +Dot most wasn’t, but I took care of her. She +went out to the barn to hunt for eggs, and the +turkey gobbler saw her. He thought she was +carrying corn in the basket. He chased her and +she ran. I heard her crying and I ran down to +the barn. She was backed up into a corner and +he was making noises at her. He is awful big, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +but I am not afraid of him. I grabbed the +broom Jud keeps to sweep the barn floor with +and I chased that old gobbler clear into the +orchard. We are going to pick berries to-morrow.’”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The twins had kept still as long as they could, +and now it was their turn.</p> +<p>“Tell Mother ’bout the snake I saw this morning,” +said Twaddles. “Jud says it was a black +snake after baby robins. It was on the grape arbor +where there is a robin’s nest. Jud killed it.”</p> +<p>“Tell Daddy I weeded a whole onion row for +Aunt Polly,” begged Dot.</p> +<p>“Wait a minute, I have to sign my name,” interrupted +Meg.</p> +<p>And she signed it, “Margaret Alice Blossom,” +right in among the words of the twins’ letters +that Bobby was patiently writing.</p> +<p>The next day was very warm, and Aunt Polly +thought they had better play in the orchard instead +of picking berries, so they trooped out +soon after breakfast, to find the orchard cool and +shady.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></div> +<p>“I wish I had my book that was drowned,” +mourned Meg. “I love to sit up in a tree and +read.”</p> +<p>“Well, I loved Geraldine better than Tottie-Fay,” +said Dot, giving the old doll a shake as she +spoke.</p> +<p>“No use fussing,” advised the sensible Bobby. +“They’re lost, and we mustn’t let Aunt Polly +hear us, ’cause she’ll think she ought to go right +off and buy us some more. I’m going to climb +this tree. Who wants a ripe apple?”</p> +<p>“I do,” and Meg jumped up. “Let me hold +my apron and you throw ’em down, Bobby. +Twaddles, stop teasing Spotty.”</p> +<p>“I aren’t teasing him,” declared Twaddles indignantly. +“I’m going to teach him to carry +bundles.”</p> +<p>Twaddles’ method of teaching the patient +Spotty was to sit down on him with feet spread +wide apart and wait for the dog to shake him +off.</p> +<p>Dot sat down quietly in the grass and began +to make a bouquet of wild-flowers. It was Dot +who always helped Aunt Polly weed and water +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +her flower garden, and Dot who liked to see +fresh flowers on the dining-room table.</p> +<p>When Meg had her apron full of apples she +sat down near Dot, and the four ate as many +sweet summer apples as four small people could +who had eaten breakfast less than an hour before.</p> +<p>“There’s Poots,” said Meg suddenly, glancing +up and seeing the black cat picking her way +through the grass. “Do you suppose she is +hunting birds?”</p> +<p>Poots blinked her green eyes innocently. If +she were after birds, she had no intention of +catching any before an audience. She sat down +and began to wash her face.</p> +<p>A mischievous idea seized Twaddles.</p> +<p>“Rats, Spotty!” he shouted. “Rats!”</p> +<p>Now rats sounds pretty much like “cats,” and +the excited and startled Spotty did not stop to +question which word Twaddles had used. He +jumped up, his ears pointing forward.</p> +<p>“Rats, sic ’em!” said bad little Twaddles. +“Rats, Spotty!”</p> +<p>Spotty barked twice sharply. Poots arose, her +fur bristling. Spotty leaped at her, barking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +playfully. Away ran Poots, her black tail sticking +straight up in the air. And after them raced +the four little Blossoms, shouting and calling +frantically.</p> +<p>Poots ran straight for the front wall and +scrambled up it, leaving Spotty to bark wildly +on the ground and make futile rushes at the solid +wall he couldn’t hope to climb. Some of the +masonry was loose, and Poots, digging with her +sharp claws, sent down a shower of dust into +the dog’s eyes. He whined, and dug at his eyes +with both forepaws. Then he sneezed several +times.</p> +<p>“You will chase me, will you?” Poots seemed +to say, gazing down at him from her safe position. +“The idea!”</p> +<p>“Well, we might as well pick up some of this +stuff,” said Twaddles, knowing that the fun was +over.</p> +<p>“It’s cooler––just feel that breeze!” exclaimed +Meg. “Let’s ask Aunt Polly if we can’t +go berrying after dinner.”</p> +<p>Aunt Polly obligingly said they could, and +after dinner the four little Blossoms scrambled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +into overalls Aunt Polly had bought and shortened +to fit them.</p> +<p>“I wish your mother could see you,” she said, +as she gave them each a bright tin pail. “No +need to worry about your dress now, is there, +Dot?”</p> +<p>“Going berrying?” asked Jud, as they passed +him, clipping the green hedge around the +kitchen garden. “Better keep out of the sun.”</p> +<p>The children walked down the road and +turned into another field. They knew where +the blackberry bushes grew, and they meant to +fill their pails.</p> +<p>“Let’s start here by this fence,” suggested +Bobby. “What’s that over in Mr. Simmond’s +field?”</p> +<p>“It’s a bull,” answered Meg who knew all the +animals at Brookside and on the neighboring +farms by this time. “He’s as cross as can be, but +he took three prizes at the last Fair.”</p> +<p>Twaddles ate the first dozen berries he picked +and then he picked another dozen for Dot’s pail. +He decided that larger and better berries grew +on the other side of the fence. He crawled under +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +and his shout of delight brought the others.</p> +<p>“You never saw such big ones!” cried Twaddles +gleefully. “Meg, look!”</p> +<p>“They are big,” agreed Meg. “Come on, +Bobby, let’s go on the other side. Mr. Simmonds +won’t care.”</p> +<p>Dot was already under the fence, and Meg +and Bobby stooped down and crawled under +after her.</p> +<p>The four little figures in blue overalls began +to pick industriously. The berries were thick +and juicy, and the bottoms of the tin pails were +covered in a few minutes. Meg had just +stopped to pull a briar from her thumb when +she heard a bellow behind her.</p> +<p>There stood the bull, in the middle of the +field, his head down between his knees, his feet +pawing the ground, and his angry eyes glaring +at the berry pickers.</p> +<p>“Oh, Bobby! The bull!” gasped Meg. “Run, +Dot and Twaddles!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_THE_HOME_LAUNDRY' id='CHAPTER_XI_THE_HOME_LAUNDRY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE HOME LAUNDRY</h3> +</div> +<p>Dot and Twaddles took one frightened +look at the bellowing bull, and then +dropped flat on the ground and began to +squirm under the fence.</p> +<p>“Hurry, Meg,” urged Bobby. “Don’t stand +there like that! Run!”</p> +<p>“I’m waiting for you,” quavered Meg.</p> +<p>“All right, hurry,” repeated Bobby.</p> +<p>He and Meg crawled under the fence and +stood beside Twaddles and Dot. Then they +looked over at the bull. He was not charging +directly toward them, but at something else his +angry red eyes had seen even before the children +noticed it. Further down there was a gap in +the fence where several rails were broken.</p> +<p>Meg shrieked in terror as she saw what the +bull meant to do.</p> +<p>“Peter! Jud! Aunt Polly! Come quick!” +she screamed, hardly knowing what she was crying.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></div> +<p>“Coming!” called a big voice, and over the +fence corner sprang Peter Apgar, a pitchfork +in his hand. He had been gathering up the +loose hay left along the edge of the field after +the hayloader had gathered the main crop.</p> +<p>After Peter came Spotty, who met the bull +just as that cross animal’s nose appeared at the +gap in the fence. Indeed, Spotty met him so +suddenly that both grunted.</p> +<p>“I’ll turn him. You stay back here out of +sight,” commanded Peter, running past the four +little Blossoms.</p> +<p>The children were very glad to stay huddled +behind the bushes, but they couldn’t help peeping +out now and then to see what Peter and +Spotty were doing with the bull.</p> +<p>“Woof, woof!” barked Spotty.</p> +<p>“You will, will you?” shouted Peter.</p> +<p>He jabbed the bull with the pitchfork, and +that surprised beast turned with a bellow. Holding +the pitchfork so that it would not hurt him +unless he tried to come at him, Peter forced the +bull back through the fence, and then he and +Spotty drove him across the field.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></div> +<p>Presently Peter and the dog came back, a bit +warm and breathless, and very glad the four +little Blossoms were to see them.</p> +<p>“You can finish berrying in peace,” said Peter. +“I drove the bull into Simmonds’ barnyard and +told his man to keep him there. No farmer has +a right to leave a cross bull at large.”</p> +<p>The children set to work at the berries again, +and, as nothing further happened to disturb +them, they filled all four pails before supper +time. Bobby and Meg helped the twins a little, +and maybe they weren’t proud to have berries +of their own picking and cream, as Meg +said, of their own milking, for their supper that +night! And there were enough berries left over +for four small turnovers. Aunt Polly made this +pleasant announcement.</p> +<p>“I intended to bake cookies to-morrow morning,” +she said, smiling. “And I don’t know why +I shouldn’t make turnovers, too, and maybe +doughnuts. Perhaps some one would like to +keep me company? Linda is going to spend the +day with her mother in town, and like as not I +shall be lonesome.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span></div> +<p>“We’ll all keep you company,” promised +Bobby gravely.</p> +<p>So the next morning every one was up early +because Linda wanted to have breakfast cleared +away before Jud drove her over to town. Soon +after she was gone Aunt Polly put on a large +white apron and the four children trooped into +the pleasant kitchen after her.</p> +<p>“Let me see,” thought Aunt Polly out loud. +“Meg should have an apron. Suppose I tie one +of Linda’s around your neck, dear? Hers are +shorter than mine.”</p> +<p>In a very short time Aunt Polly had rolled +out the crust for the turnovers and filled them +with berries and sugar.</p> +<p>“When they are done you can take them outdoors +and eat them while they’re hot,” she said. +“Make believe you’re having a picnic.”</p> +<p>“Can’t we have a picnic, a real picnic?” asked +Bobby quickly.</p> +<p>“Why, of course,” agreed Aunt Polly. “I +meant you should have a picnic weeks ago. +Only time goes so fast. However, before vacation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +is over we’ll have a real picnic with all +kinds of good things to eat.”</p> +<p>Every one was very much interested in the +first batch of cookies, and Aunt Polly gave each +one a sample, which was pronounced delicious.</p> +<p>Then Aunt Polly put on her big kettle and +started to fry some doughnuts.</p> +<p>Dot, when no one was looking, took Spotty +out into the hall and gave him half a cookie. +Then they both came back into the kitchen wearing +such an innocent air that Aunt Polly had to +laugh.</p> +<p>“Spotty has a sweet tooth, all right,” she declared. +“Don’t let him tease all your cookies +away from you, dear. Twaddles, look out!”</p> +<p>The warning came too late, for Twaddles, +reaching across the bowl of freshly fried doughnuts +to get something, caught his sleeve on the +rim of the bowl and succeeded in turning the +whole thing upside down over himself.</p> +<p>“I really think,” said patient, long-suffering +Aunt Polly, when the doughnuts had been +picked up and brushed off and Twaddles had +explained how it happened, “I really think, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +four children and a dog are too many to have +in the kitchen on baking day. Anyway, the +turnovers are done. I’ll slip them on a plate +and let Meg carry it out under the chestnut +tree. Then you may have your picnic.” And +so it was settled.</p> +<p>“I wish,” confided Meg, as she bit into a juicy +bit of pie––Aunt Polly made wonderful berry +pies––“I had my ‘Black Beauty’ book.”</p> +<p>“I’ll never have another doll like Geraldine!” +sighed Dot. “Never! And what good are all +her clothes? I haven’t any doll to fit ’em.”</p> +<p>“You might take a tuck in ’em for Totty-Fat,” +suggested Bobby, using the disrespectful +name he had invented for Dot’s old doll. “She’s +a sight. Oh dear! I wish I had tried to fly my +airplane just once before I lost it.”</p> +<p>“Well, there’s my bird,” mourned Twaddles. +“Aunt Polly never heard it sing. And now she +never will.”</p> +<p>“I dripped a little juice on my dress,” announced +Dot doubtfully, after Meg had gone in +to help her aunt wash dishes.</p> +<p>“I should think you had,” said Bobby, gazing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +severely at the little girl. “I don’t believe blackberry +juice comes out, either. Prob’ly that +dress will always be spotted now.”</p> +<p>“Linda said when she was a little girl her +mother made her wash her own dresses if she +got too many dirty in one day,” Dot declared. +“Maybe I could wash this.”</p> +<p>Twaddles and Bobby hadn’t a very clear idea +of how to wash a dress, and because it was something +they had not done before, the idea appealed +to them.</p> +<p>“We’ll help you,” offered Bobby generously. +“I saw a piece of soap out at the barn this morning. +And the rain barrel’s full. Come on.”</p> +<p>They trotted down to the barn. Neither +Peter nor Jud was anywhere in sight, which +was just what the washers hoped for. Of +course, they argued, it wasn’t naughty to wash +a dress, but you never can tell what objections +grown-ups are going to make. Sometimes they +find fault with every single thing one wants +to do.</p> +<p>“Let me rub the soap on,” begged Dot, as +Bobby unbuttoned her frock for her and she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +stepped out of it, a sturdy little figure in a brief +white petticoat.</p> +<p>So Dot rubbed plenty of soap on the blackberry +spots. It was harness soap, which Jud +had been using for the leather harness, but the +children thought it made a fine lather. Linda +would have scolded had she seen them, for soap +sets fruit juice stains so that it is almost impossible +ever to get them out.</p> +<p>“Let’s put in our handkerchiefs, too,” suggested +Bobby, pulling out a grimy square.</p> +<p>Twaddles had lost his, and Dot’s was in the +pocket of her dress and already wet, but Bobby +added his to the wash.</p> +<p>“We must let ’em soak,” advised Dot, who had +been in the kitchen on wash days. “Linda says +that gets the dirt out.”</p> +<p>The three children balanced themselves on +the edge of the rain barrel while they waited +for their wash to soak.</p> +<p>“Well, for pity’s sake, what are you up to +now?” It was Jud’s voice, and Jud came out of +the barn so unexpectedly that he made them +jump.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span></div> +<p>Twaddles tumbled to his knees, and Bobby +stood up, but poor Dot lost her shaky balance +and fell into the barrel with her dress and the +handkerchief.</p> +<p>“There, there, sister, you’re not hurt,” soothed +Jud, as he pulled the dripping child out and +stood her on the grass. “For mercy’s sake don’t +yell like that. Miss Polly will think you’re +killed!”</p> +<p>Dot was frightened and wet, and she had no +intention of smiling at such misfortune. She +cried so loud that Aunt Polly heard her and +came running down to the barn, Meg running +behind her.</p> +<p>“Why, Baby!” Aunt Polly was surprised to +see streams of water running off her small niece, +and at first she did not notice that Dot had no +dress on.</p> +<p>“Where’s your dress?” demanded Meg.</p> +<p>Aunt Polly picked up Dot, wet as she was, +and started back to the house. Meg followed +to help find clean dry clothes.</p> +<p>Jud looked at Twaddles and Bobby queerly.</p> +<p>“Just what were you doing?” he asked in a different +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +voice than they had ever heard from easygoing, +good-natured Jud. “What’s that in the +barrel?”</p> +<p>“We were helping Dot,” said Bobby. “She +got juice all on her dress, and, honest, she’s worn +eleven this week. So we thought we ought to +wash this one.”</p> +<p>“I see,” replied Jud slowly. “Do you know +you’ve spoiled a barrel of soft rain water that’s +worth considerable? To say nothing of soap.”</p> +<p>“We used the green soap we found on the +beam,” put in Twaddles.</p> +<p>“You perfect imps!” groaned poor Jud. +“That’s my harness soap. I don’t see how your +town gets along with all four of you the year +around. Well, you can just help me bail out +this water––that’s flat. Wring out that pesky +wash and spread it on the grass to dry. Then +each of you take one of those lard pails, and +set to work.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_UP_ON_THE_MOUNTAIN' id='CHAPTER_XII_UP_ON_THE_MOUNTAIN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>UP ON THE MOUNTAIN</h3> +</div> +<p>Two subdued little boys went in to dinner +that noon. Afterward Aunt Polly announced +that she was going over to town.</p> +<p>“I have to drive Nelly Bly,” she told them, +“and as I couldn’t take but one, I don’t think +it is fair to take any of you. As soon as the car +is fixed, we’ll have a long drive.”</p> +<p>Jud had taken the automobile over to the one +garage the week before and it was not ready yet.</p> +<p>“Now try to amuse yourselves and don’t get +into mischief,” cautioned Aunt Polly, as Jud +brought Nelly Bly and the buggy to the door. +“I’m sorry I have to leave you when Linda is +away, but you’ll be all right. Jud will be within +call, and I’ll be back about five. I’m going to +pick up Linda and bring her back.”</p> +<p>“What are you going to do, Jud?” asked Dot, +as Aunt Polly drove out of the gate. Dot was +in a clean dry dress and none the worse for her +ducking.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></div> +<p>“Can’t we help you?” asked Meg kindly.</p> +<p>“Now look here,” Jud said, in his pleasant, +slow voice. “I’m going to be all-fired busy in +the back garden. If anything frightens you, +sing out and I’ll hear you. If you want to talk +to any one, go down to the house, and Mother +will listen to you. But please don’t bother me.”</p> +<p>“But what’ll we do?” persisted Bobby.</p> +<p>Jud pointed to the tent that had been Father +Blossom’s surprise.</p> +<p>“Play Indians, why don’t you?” he suggested. +“Don’t believe you’ve had those clothes on three +times since you got ’em. If any one had sent me +a tent when I was a kid, you couldn’t have kept +me from playing with it.”</p> +<p>“We might as well play Indian,” said Meg, +when Jud had gone off to his garden, whistling. +“Dot and I’ll put on our suits and you and +Twaddles wear yours. I wish I had a tomahawk.”</p> +<p>“Girl Indians don’t have ’em,” said Bobby +flatly.</p> +<p>“Well, they ought to,” declared Meg. +“Doesn’t Dot look cunning in her suit?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></div> +<p>“Heap big Injun chief,” announced Bobby, +prancing about in his suit.</p> +<p>“Let’s get captives and hide them in the tent,” +suggested Meg, who usually did most of the +planning for their games.</p> +<p>“Where’ll we get ’em?” asked Bobby doubtfully. +“Jud’s bigger than we are.”</p> +<p>“No, we can’t capture Jud,” agreed Meg.</p> +<p>“Wow! wow! Whoop!” shouted Twaddles, +tumbling down the steps and giving his best Indian +yell as he came.</p> +<p>“Ducks and chickens might be captives,” said +Meg slowly, frowning at the interruption of +Twaddles.</p> +<p>Ordinarily Meg was a good little girl and not +given to mischief, but a spice of naughtiness +seemed to be in all the four little Blossoms on +this unfortunate day.</p> +<p>“Let’s get the ducks, first,” said Bobby. +“That’s a great idea, Meg. Come on, Twaddles, +we have to capture the ducks.”</p> +<p>They found the beautiful white birds swimming +lazily about the artificial duck pond in the +chicken yard, and they didn’t seem to want to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +be captured at all. The children finally succeeded +in driving them, twenty of them, that is, +into the tent.</p> +<p>“Somebody will have to stay and see they +don’t come out when we get the chickens,” said +Meg. “Dot’s too little––she’ll let ’em out. I’ll +do it, if you’ll stay when we get the chickens in, +and let me capture the turkeys, Bobby.”</p> +<p>Bobby assented, and Meg stayed behind at the +tent while Dot, Twaddles and Bobby went after +the chickens.</p> +<p>If you have ever tried to drive a hen into a +certain place, you will know how very stupid +she can be. The children were hot and cross +before they had twenty-eight white leghorn hens +penned in the tent with the ducks.</p> +<p>“They make an awful lot of noise,” said +Bobby nervously. “Jud will hear them.”</p> +<p>“As soon as they find it’s dark they’ll think +it’s night,” answered Meg comfortably. “Now +I’m going after turkeys.”</p> +<p>But the only turkey she could find was the +lame one that lived in the chicken yard and was +tame enough to allow herself to be picked up.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></div> +<p>“Aren’t they good and quiet?” said Meg with +satisfaction, as she poked the patient turkey hen +through the tent flaps and heard the soft mutterings +of the ducks and hens, who thought it +was night and time to go to sleep.</p> +<p>Just as the Indians had the last captive snugly +fastened in, Peter, with Terry harnessed to the +“market wagon,” a light wagon that was used +to take the butter and eggs over to town in, came +down the drive from the barn.</p> +<p>“Whoa!” said Peter to Terry.</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Peter!” The four little Blossoms +rushed out to greet him. “Where are you going? +Can’t we go? Where’s Jerry?”</p> +<p>Peter surveyed the four Indians gravely.</p> +<p>“Well, as I’m going up in the mountain, I +guess we won’t meet any one who’ll be scared to +death,” he said slowly. “So I don’t know but +perhaps you might hop in. Jerry? I left him +in the stable. This wagon goes with one horse.”</p> +<p>As the children scrambled in, Peter thought of +something.</p> +<p>“Like as not Miss Polly’ll be back before we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +are,” he observed. “She might miss all four of +you if no one’s about. Jud!”</p> +<p>“Here!” shouted Jud from the back garden.</p> +<p>He came to the gate in the hedge.</p> +<p>“Jud, if Miss Polly comes home and doesn’t +find any children, just tell her they’re with me +and that we’ll be home by six. I’m going up +in the mountain.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said Jud.</p> +<p>“How do you go up in the mountain?” inquired +Meg curiously, as they turned into the +road.</p> +<p>She was sitting on the front seat with Peter, +Twaddles was between them, and Dot was in +her lap. Bobby stood up in the wagon behind +them and looked over their shoulders.</p> +<p>“I guess I mean up on the mountain,” Peter +corrected himself. “We’ve got kind of a habit +round here of saying ‘in the mountain.’ Ever +been up there?”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms had never been there––indeed +they did not know there was a mountain +near by.</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose it’s more of a hill,” admitted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +Peter. “But it’s the best mountain we have. +Queer people live up there. They don’t see +much of anybody, and some of ’em’s as timid +as deer. The children, now, run when they see +a stranger coming.”</p> +<p>“What are we going to get?” asked Bobby. +He had been long enough on the farm to know +that when one harnessed up a horse and wagon +there was usually something to be fetched or carried.</p> +<p>“I’m going up to see if I can’t get a woman +to come down next week and help Mrs. Peter +do some cleaning,” explained Peter. “Help’s +scarce in the town, and some of the mountain-folk +like to earn a little money in the summer. +Miss Polly taking the buggy, I had to get along +with the market wagon. ’Sides, the thought +came to me that I might meet some one who +wanted a ride.”</p> +<p>Meg saw Peter’s eyes twinkling and she +guessed that he had meant to ask them to go with +him all the time.</p> +<p>Terry was going up a steep road now, narrow +as well as steep, and the untrimmed trees lashed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +against the curtained sides of the wagon as it +passed.</p> +<p>“Here’s Mrs. Cook’s house,” said Peter at last.</p> +<p>The children saw a little unpainted house +standing in a clearing of half-chopped tree-stumps. +A line of washing was strung between +the two posts that supported a narrow roof over +the door. Skins of animals were tacked on the +sides of the house, and a large hound dog +chained to a tree watched them closely.</p> +<p>“Can we get out and see the dog?” asked Meg, +as Peter tied Terry to a convenient tree.</p> +<p>“I don’t know as I’d touch the dog,” said +Peter. “Better keep away from him. He’s a +night hunter, and may be cross. There’s Mrs. +Cook’s little girl––go and make friends with her +If you want to.”</p> +<p>Peter went up to the house door and knocked, +and Meg walked over to a little girl seated on +a tree stump.</p> +<p>The child was barefooted and wore a ragged +dress, but her skin was a beautiful clear brown +and her eyes were as blue as Meg’s. She had +lovely long brown hair, too.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></div> +<p>“Hello!” said Meg.</p> +<p>Apparently the little girl had not heard her +coming, for she jumped when Meg spoke and +turned swiftly. Then she shrieked loudly and +dashed for the house. Peter came out at once.</p> +<p>“Guess you frightened her,” he said. “And +Christopher Columbus, I don’t wonder. You +look like a band of Indians let loose.”</p> +<p>“My! we forgot these clothes,” said Bobby. +“Meg didn’t mean to frighten her. Look at +Twaddles––she scared him pretty near stiff yelling +like that.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Cook came out to the wagon presently, +to tell Peter that she would come the next week. +She was a little thin, brown-faced woman, and +she was even shyer than Dot, who usually shrank +out of sight when there were any strangers +around.</p> +<p>“These Miss Polly’s ’lations?” asked Mrs. +Cook, twisting her apron nervously.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_LINDA_IS_UNHAPPY' id='CHAPTER_XIII_LINDA_IS_UNHAPPY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>LINDA IS UNHAPPY</h3> +</div> +<p>“Every one of ’em,” announced Peter. +“These, ma’am, are the four little Blossoms!”</p> +<p>“We didn’t mean to scare your little girl,” +said Meg bravely. “I guess she thought we +were Indians. These are just play clothes.”</p> +<p>“Emma Louise scares easy,” said Mrs. Cook. +“All my children do.”</p> +<p>“How many have you?” asked Twaddles, +meaning to be polite.</p> +<p>“Nine,” replied Mrs. Cook serenely. “Four +boys and five girls.”</p> +<p>“We have to be going, if we get back in time +for supper,” hinted Peter, gathering up the +reins. “I’ll tell the Missus you’ll walk down +Tuesday morning, then, and I’ll drive you home +at night.”</p> +<p>“Wait a minute,” begged Dot, as Peter was +about to turn Terry. It was the first word she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +had spoken since they had reached the Cook +house. “Give these to the little girl.”</p> +<p>It was the chain of gay-colored beads Dot +wore around her neck with the Indian dress, and +Mrs. Cook’s face wrinkled into a smile of delight.</p> +<p>“Emma Louise will love ’em,” she declared +brightly. “I’m much obliged.”</p> +<p>Dot was too shy to say anything, but she +blushed and smiled and inwardly wished that +Peter would drive on. Soon they were going +down the mountain again.</p> +<p>“Aunt Polly’s at home!” shouted Dot, as they +turned into the drive and she saw a white figure +rocking in the porch swing.</p> +<p>Aunt Polly was very glad to see them, and she +had not been worried because Jud had told her +where the children had gone. The milking was +done, she said, and everything fed, so if they +would get washed and dressed right away for +supper, Linda would put it on the table while +they were upstairs.</p> +<p>“Linda looked as if she’d been crying,” said +Meg, slipping off the Indian dress and pulling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +on a clean white piqué. “Her eyes were all +red.”</p> +<p>“Maybe she was bad and her mother scolded +her,” said Dot.</p> +<p>At the supper table Aunt Polly listened to the +story of the afternoon’s drive, and heard about +Mrs. Cook and the queer little house, but all +the time she seemed to be thinking of something +else. And there was certainly something seriously +wrong with Linda. She scarcely ate any +supper, and her eyes were red, as Meg said. +Twaddles was sure she had the toothache. When +he went out into the kitchen after supper he +found her crying over the dishes, and she was +cross to him and told him to get out of her +kitchen.</p> +<p>“I guess Linda has the measles,” reported the +astonished Twaddles to the rest of the family, +who were on the front porch.</p> +<p>“Yes, I guess she’s sick,” remarked Bobby. +“She didn’t want any cold chicken.”</p> +<p>“Was she bad, Aunt Polly?” questioned Dot +“Did her mother punish her?”</p> +<p>“Well, Linda and I had decided not to bother +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +you with our troubles,” said Aunt Polly, “but +I see we can’t hide a thing from your sharp +eyes. I have bad news to tell you. While you +were away with Peter this afternoon, and while +Linda and I were in town, a miserable chicken +thief got into the chicken yard and stole ever so +many chickens. We don’t know yet how many. +And they took nearly every one of Linda’s +ducks. She has the ducks for her own, you +know, and she uses the money for her school +clothes. So that’s why she’s crying.”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms sat and stared at +Aunt Polly. They had completely forgotten +the chickens and ducks and the one lame turkey +shut into the tent till this minute.</p> +<p>“Aunt Polly!” gasped Meg, in a very little +voice. “Aunt Polly––please, we were just playing, +and––and–––” Meg could not go on.</p> +<p>“We were playing Indians,” said Bobby, coming +to the rescue of his sister, “and we had to +have some captives. So––so–––”</p> +<p>“We took the chickens and the ducks,” went +on the twins in concert.</p> +<p>“And the lame turkey,” put in Meg.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div> +<p>“And shut them in our tent!” finished Bobby +and Meg together.</p> +<p>“Put them in your tent?” repeated Aunt Polly. +“Do you suppose they are there now?”</p> +<p>Away dashed the children, Aunt Polly after +them, around to the side lawn. The tent was +just as they had left it, and Meg cautiously unbuttoned +the flap. A soft, comfortable little +singing sound came out to them.</p> +<p>“Well, I never!” said Aunt Polly helplessly. +“What won’t you children do next!”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms ran back to tell Linda +that her ducks were safe, and you may be sure +she was very glad to hear it. And in the morning +they found the biddies and the ducks none +the worse for their night in the tent.</p> +<p>Shortly after this, Bobby and Meg were awakened +one night by a queer noise outside. Bobby +heard it first and came creeping into Meg’s +room to see if she were awake.</p> +<p>“Meg! Meg!” he whispered, so as not to wake +Dot. “Did you hear something?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I did,” whispered back Meg. “Under +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +my window. Wait a minute and we’ll peep +out.”</p> +<p>Dot and Twaddles wouldn’t wake up, “not if +there was an earthquake,” Daddy Blossom sometimes +said, but Meg and Bobby were light sleepers +and very apt to hear any unusual noise.</p> +<p>Together now they crept over to Meg’s window +and, raising the screen very softly, peeped +out. Something large and dark was moving +about on the lawn below.</p> +<p>“I guess it’s Mr. Simmonds’ bull,” suggested +Meg.</p> +<p>“Don’t you think we ought to go down and +drive him off?” asked Bobby, quite as if driving +bulls off his aunt’s lawn was a nightly task with +him. “Or I’ll go alone––I’m the man of the +house.”</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, he was. Aunt Polly and +Linda slept in rooms across the hall at the back +of the house, and apparently had heard nothing. +But Meg had no idea of letting her brother face +a bull alone.</p> +<p>“I’m coming, too,” she whispered. “Let’s put +on our shoes––you know how wet the grass is at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +night. And here’s a blanket, so you won’t catch +cold.”</p> +<p>Wrapping herself in another blanket––Aunt +Polly kept two light-weight blankets folded at +the foot of each bed for chilly nights––Meg tiptoed +carefully downstairs after Bobby. They +knew their way about the house now, even in the +dark. The front door was not locked, for people +in the country seldom lock their doors.</p> +<p>“Why, Bobby!” Meg called softly. “Look! +There’s a lot of ’em! See! All down the +drive! They can’t be Mr. Simmonds’ bull–––”</p> +<p>“Well, not all of ’em,” snickered Bobby. +“There’s only one of him. Come on, Meg, I’m +going up to one and see what it is.”</p> +<p>“Why, it’s a calf!” cried Meg, in astonishment. +“A darling baby calf! They all are! +How many are there, Bobby?”</p> +<p>“I can count fourteen,” said Bobby after a moment, +for the night was not pitch black, but one +of those soft summer nights with so many stars +that after your eyes are accustomed to it you can +see objects distinctly enough to count.</p> +<p>“Somebody’s left their barnyard gate open,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +announced Meg. “What’ll we do? Drive ’em +into our barnyard?”</p> +<p>“Sure!” answered Bobby, just like a farmer. +“That’ll keep ’em safe till morning. And then +Jud will find out whose they are.”</p> +<p>Driving those fourteen baby calves was not +such hard work as they had expected, for they +were very amiable beasties and only wanted to +nibble a little fresh sweet grass as they were +driven on toward the barnyard. But Meg and +Bobby had so much fun doing this that they forgot +to be quiet, and just as they had the last calf +safely inside and the big gate barred, two figures +came running up to them.</p> +<p>“For the love of Pete!” said Jud, breathing +heavily. “Meg and Bobby! And in their +night clothes! Are you crazy?”</p> +<p>“There’s fourteen baby calves in there,” announced +Bobby with dignity.</p> +<p>“Yes, and they would have had the whole +lawn eaten up if it hadn’t been for us,” declared +Meg.</p> +<p>Peter and Jud peered over the gate.</p> +<p>“Those are Tom Sparks’ calves he bought for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +his auction next week,” said Peter. “Guess he +didn’t pen ’em in good to-night. Well, you +youngsters don’t miss anything, do you? You +run back to bed now, and in the morning we’ll +do a little telephoning.”</p> +<p>And when Jud came up while they were at +breakfast the next morning and told them that +Mr. Sparks wanted to pay a reward of five dollars +to the person who had saved his calves for +him, maybe there wasn’t great excitement!</p> +<p>Aunt Polly then heard the story for the first +time, as did Dot and Twaddles and Linda.</p> +<p>“You take it,” advised Linda, when Jud repeated +the offer of the reward. “If the constable +had put his calves in the pound it would +have cost him twice that to get them out.”</p> +<p>“But I don’t like to have them take money,” +protested Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“All right,” said Jud suddenly. “Mr. Sparks +can pay them back some other way.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_PICNIC' id='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_PICNIC'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>THE PICNIC</h3> +</div> +<p>Jud went off whistling, and soon after they +had finished breakfast the four little Blossoms +saw a tall, stout man drive in. His horse +was a beautiful, shiny black animal, evidently +groomed and tended with great care.</p> +<p>“That’s Mr. Sparks,” Linda informed the +children.</p> +<p>The children ran out to see the calves being +herded together, and Jud embarrassed Meg and +Bobby very much by introducing them as the +little people who had heard the calves in the +night and gone downstairs after them.</p> +<p>“Meg heard ’em,” said Bobby modestly.</p> +<p>“Well, well, well!” almost shouted Mr. +Sparks, though that was his natural way of talking; +he couldn’t speak low. “I do certainly admire +a girl with spunk enough to get up in the +middle of the night and chase live-stock. You +ought to be a farmer’s daughter.”</p> +<p>He paused and smiled at the children. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +was impossible not to like this bluff, red-faced +man with the loud voice.</p> +<p>“I had intended to give a little reward to the +person who did me this service,” went on Mr. +Sparks. “Finding there’s two of ’em, rightly I +should double it. But Mrs. Hayward, I hear, +doesn’t want you to take money––good notion, +too, in a way, I guess. Suppose I give you one +of these little calves now. How would that +do?”</p> +<p>“One of those darling little calves?” cried +Meg.</p> +<p>“To keep?” echoed Bobby.</p> +<p>“To keep, of course,” assented Mr. Sparks. +“You pick the critter you want, and I guess Mrs. +Hayward will pasture it for you.”</p> +<p>“Sure she will,” promised Jud, who was standing +by with a delighted smile. “And after you +go back to Oak Hill, I’ll take good care of it +and next summer you can come up and see your +own cow.”</p> +<p>Aunt Polly and Linda and Peter all had to +be summoned, and then, with every one’s help +and advice, not forgetting the twins’, Bobby and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +Meg selected a handsome cream-colored little +calf that Mr. Sparks assured them would grow +into a Jersey bossy cow like Mrs. Sally Sweet.</p> +<p>“What you going to call her?” he asked curiously.</p> +<p>Bobby looked at Meg.</p> +<p>“You name her,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“All right. Let’s call her Carlotta,” said +Meg promptly. “I think that is the loveliest +name.” So Carlotta the calf was named.</p> +<p>Carlotta did not seem to mind at all when her +friends and relatives were driven off by Mr. +Sparks. Apparently she liked Brookside farm +and was glad she was going to live there.</p> +<p>“Thank you ever so much, Mr. Sparks,” said +Meg and Bobby for the twentieth time, as he +drove out of the gateway after his recovered +property.</p> +<p>A day or two after the finding of the calves +Aunt Polly came out on the porch where the +children were cutting up an old fashion magazine +for paper dolls, and sat down in the porch +swing with her mending basket.</p> +<p>“Do you know, honeys,” she began, “if we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +don’t have our picnic pretty soon, vacation is going +to be over. Though what I am to do this +long cold winter without any children in my +house I don’t see.”</p> +<p>“Bobby and I have to go to school,” said Meg. +“But Dot and Twaddles could stay.”</p> +<p>“We’re going to school, too,” declared Dot, +with such a positive snap of her blunt scissors +that she snipped off a paper doll’s head.</p> +<p>“Of course,” affirmed Twaddles, with maddening +serenity.</p> +<p>“Well, I think we’d better talk about the picnic,” +interposed Aunt Polly. “When to have it, +and whom to invite and what to have to eat.”</p> +<p>“Sandwiches!” cried Meg, answering the last +question first. “Let me help make ’em, +Auntie?”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course,” promised Aunt Polly. “And +it seems to me that we had better go to-morrow. +This spell of fine dry weather can’t last forever, +and when the rain does come we may have a week +of it.”</p> +<p>“Can Jud come?” asked Bobby.</p> +<p>“Yes, indeed,” answered Aunt Polly, who had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +the happiest way of saying “yes” to nearly everything +her nephews and nieces asked of her.</p> +<p>“And Linda?” asked Twaddles.</p> +<p>“Linda, too,” agreed Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“Where’ll we go?” demanded the practical +Dot.</p> +<p>“Over in the woods,” said Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“Let’s get ready,” proposed Meg, who knew +a picnic meant work beforehand.</p> +<p>Every one scattered, Meg and Aunt Polly to +the kitchen to help Linda pack the lunch boxes, +as far as they could be packed the day before the +picnic; Bobby to tell Jud that he was expected; +and Dot and Twaddles on an errand of their +own.</p> +<p>They were gone some time, and when they +returned acted so mysteriously that Meg was +quite out of patience.</p> +<p>“Be sure you have enough sandwiches,” advised +Twaddles, swinging on the kitchen screen +door, a thing which always made Linda nervous.</p> +<p>“There might somebody come at the last minute,” +chimed in Dot.</p> +<p>Then she and Twaddles giggled.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span></div> +<p>“Those silly children,” said Meg with her +most grown-up air. “I suppose they think they +sound funny.”</p> +<p>Dot and Twaddles apparently did not care +how they sounded, and they stayed in the kitchen, +stirring and tasting, till Linda flatly declared +that she’d put pepper in the pressed chicken instead +of salt if they didn’t stop bothering her. +Jud came just at that moment and asked the +twins to help him see if the new catch on the +chicken yard gate worked all right, and the two +little torments readily followed him.</p> +<p>Nearly everything was ready for the picnic +by that night, and every one went to bed hoping +for a clear day.</p> +<p>“The sun is shining, Meg! Meg, get up!” +shouted Dot early the next morning. “We’re +going on a picnic!”</p> +<p>She made so much noise that she woke up +Aunt Polly and Linda, as well as Bobby and +Twaddles, and then, of course, there was nothing +to do but to get up and have breakfast.</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms found Peter and Jud +busy in the barn, putting clean straw in the bottom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +of the box wagon that was used to haul logs +and brushwood in in the winter.</p> +<p>“Be ready in two jerks of a lamb’s tail,” announced +Peter, using one of his favorite expressions.</p> +<p>When the heavy wagon rattled up to the front +door, the four little Blossoms were already sitting +on the straw. Aunt Polly and Linda were +helped in by Jud, who also lifted in the boxes +of lunch, and then Peter clucked to Jerry and +Terry, and away they went, over the meadow +into the woods, and up the narrow wagon road.</p> +<p>“See, isn’t this pretty?” asked Aunt Polly, as +the road suddenly came out into a clearing, and +they saw the brook a bit ahead of them.</p> +<p>They all jumped out, and Peter turned the +horses’ heads toward home at once. He was +anxious to get back to his work, but was coming +for them at half-past four.</p> +<p>“We must get some flowers for the table,” +said Aunt Polly, after she had helped Linda put +the boxes in a low branch of a tree where nothing +could touch them. “Come, children, let’s +get a bouquet of flowers.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></div> +<p>They gathered wild flowers, and also found +some late blackberries which, placed on a wide +green leaf as a dish, looked very pretty. Linda +spread a white cloth presently, and was opening +the boxes when the sound of a rattling wagon +attracted her attention.</p> +<p>“If that doesn’t sound like Mr. Sparks’ old +rig,” said Linda curiously.</p> +<p>“It is,” announced Dot complacently. “Twaddles +and me asked him to come to the picnic, +’cause he gave Meg and Bobby the calf.”</p> +<p>Although Aunt Polly murmured helplessly, +“what will those children do next!” they were +all very glad to see Mr. Sparks when he finally +rattled up. And there was plenty of everything +to eat––trust Aunt Polly and Linda for that.</p> +<p>Mr. Sparks brought a freezer of ice-cream +with him, which his wife had made, as his contribution +to the picnic, and though he had to go +as soon as lunch was over, he assured the children +that he had had a splendid time.</p> +<p>When the crumbs were all scattered for the +birds, and the papers and boxes neatly buried, +except one box of sandwiches they had not eaten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +and which they saved for Peter, Aunt Polly declared +that she wanted to sit quietly for an hour +and knit. Linda, too, had her embroidery, but +the four little Blossoms wanted to go wading.</p> +<p>“I’ll watch ’em,” promised Jud.</p> +<p>So Meg and Bobby and Dot and Twaddles +took off their shoes and stockings and pattered +over the pine needles that covered the grass +down to the edge of the brook.</p> +<p>Bobby dipped one foot in to test the water.</p> +<p>“Wow, it’s cold!” he said. “Just like ice, +Jud.”</p> +<p>“You won’t mind it after you’ve been in a little +while,” Jud assured him. “Now when I say +come out, you’re to come. No teasing to stay +in! Is that agreed?”</p> +<p>“All right,” promised the four little Blossoms. +“Oh, ow! isn’t it cold?”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_WHAT_MEG_FOUND' id='CHAPTER_XV_WHAT_MEG_FOUND'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>WHAT MEG FOUND</h3> +</div> +<p>The first thing Dot did was to step in a deep +hole and get her dress and tucked-up skirt +wet nearly to her shoulders.</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” said Meg calmly. “Aunt +Polly brought some dry things with her. I +guess she expected Dot to go in bathing instead +of wading.”</p> +<p>This made Dot very indignant, but she pattered +along after the others, and in a few minutes +forgot to be cross. When you are wading +in a clear, cold brook with little dancing leaves +making checkered patterns on the water, and a +green forest all around you, you can not stay +cross long.</p> +<p>“I see something,” said Bobby suddenly. +“Look! Over there where it’s wide! Don’t +you see it, Meg?”</p> +<p>“Looks like clothes,” said Meg, shading her +eyes with her hand, for the sun on the water dazzled +her. “Maybe it’s a wash. Aunt Polly said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +some of the hired men around here wash their +clothes in the brook. Let’s go and see.”</p> +<p>“Here, here! Where are you going?” called +Jud, as they began to scramble down.</p> +<p>“We saw something on the other side of the +brook,” explained Bobby. “We’re going over +to see what it is.”</p> +<p>“Well, you just wait,” ordered Jud. “That’s +the widest part of the brook down there, and all +that side is swampy land. You can’t land on it. +You’ll sink in. Wait till I take my shoes off, and +I’ll come and help you.”</p> +<p>Jud took off his shoes and socks and rolled his +trousers up to his knees. He wasn’t afraid that +the four little Blossoms would drown, for the +brook was not very deep in any part. But it +was wide at the point where Bobby wanted to +cross, and there was no bank, only a piece of +swamp, on the other side.</p> +<p>“Now I’ll take Dot and Twaddles, and you +and Meg hold hands,” said Jud, as he stepped +into the water. “Come on, Pirates, let’s board +yonder frigate.”</p> +<p>The children giggled and stepped gingerly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +after Jud. They were glad he had come with +them, for the mild little brook looked like a +river to them as they got out into the middle +of it.</p> +<p>“What do you suppose that is over there?” +said Bobby. “I wish it was buried treasure. I +never found any buried treasure.”</p> +<p>“Maybe it is Indians,” Meg suggested a little +fearfully.</p> +<p>“With a flag of truce?” said Jud, understanding +at once. “Well, Meg, I don’t believe we +have any Indians around here.”</p> +<p>He made a dive for Dot and saved her from +slipping, but she wasn’t a bit grateful.</p> +<p>“I almost caught a crab,” she sputtered.</p> +<p>Before Bobby could tell her that crabs didn’t +live in brooks, they had reached the piece of +swamp land and all four children rushed for the +fluttering bit of white which had attracted +Bobby’s attention.</p> +<p>“Why, it’s a shirt!” said Twaddles in great disappointment.</p> +<p>Whatever he had expected to see, it certainly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +wasn’t a shirt and he felt cheated. Jud had to +laugh at the queer expression on his face.</p> +<p>Meg, however, did not laugh. She was eyeing +the shirt closely and Jud saw that she had something +on her mind. Perhaps Meg was his favorite +among the children, if he had a favorite. +He had once told Linda that Meg was a “regular +little woman” and indeed, quiet as she was, she +often saw things that other people did not notice.</p> +<p>“Jud,” she said now, “that shirt hasn’t any +buttons on it and the pocket is ripped. And +Linda brought her sewing basket.”</p> +<p>Bobby looked at his little sister as though he +thought she was losing her mind.</p> +<p>“What’s a sewing basket got to do with it?” +he demanded.</p> +<p>“It needs mending,” said Meg soberly. “Maybe +the man who washed it hasn’t any needle and +thread.”</p> +<p>The twins declared that everyone had needle +and thread, but Jud rather spoiled their argument +by announcing that he had none.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></div> +<p>“I can’t sew, so what good would needle and +thread do me?” he asked them.</p> +<p>Meg, forgetting the shirt for a moment, asked +him what he did when buttons came off his +clothes.</p> +<p>“My mother sews them on again,” said Jud, +“and Mother darns my socks and Mother mends +the rips I get in my coats.”</p> +<p>“There, you see!” Meg cried triumphantly. +“This man hasn’t any mother to sew buttons on +him.”</p> +<p>“On his shirt, you mean,” giggled Dot.</p> +<p>“Well, maybe he hasn’t,” Bobby admitted. “I +don’t suppose he has, or he wouldn’t have to do +his own washing. But Linda’s basket is on the +other side of the brook.”</p> +<p>“I’m going to take the shirt over to her and +ask her to mend it,” announced Meg. “I know +she will. Then I’ll bring it back and hang it +on the bush and won’t he be surprised!”</p> +<p>Jud chuckled.</p> +<p>“He’ll be more surprised if he comes along +and his shirt is missing,” he laughed. “Why, +he’ll think the birds made way with it.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></div> +<p>This was a new problem for Meg and she +thought about it for several minutes.</p> +<p>“Dot and Twaddles can stay here,” she decided, +“and if the man comes, they can tell him +that I will bring his shirt back as soon as it is +mended.”</p> +<p>But the twins did not take kindly to the idea +of being left alone. They said they were going +back when Jud went.</p> +<p>“Then you take the shirt, and I’ll stay,” said +Meg, who seldom gave up a plan, once she had +made it. “Please ask Linda to put the buttons +on and mend the pocket and then you bring it +right back.”</p> +<p>Jud looked doubtful at the thought of leaving +Meg, even when Bobby declared he would stay +with her.</p> +<p>“I have to go, for the children can’t get back +alone,” he said, “but you mustn’t go away from +here: I want to be able to find you when I +bring the laundry home.”</p> +<p>Bobby and Meg laughed and promised to +stay close to the bush. Meg folded up the shirt +and stuffed it in Jud’s pocket, because she said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +Dot would drop it in the water if she tried to +carry it and Twaddles would want to play with +it and might get it dirty. Then Meg and Bobby +watched the three wade back and when they +reached the opposite bank, they waved to them.</p> +<p>Though Jud had said they could not land, +there was a narrow strip of ground firm enough +to hold them and it was on this the bush grew +where the unknown man had hung his washing.</p> +<p>“I don’t see any house for him to live in,” +said Bobby curiously.</p> +<p>“Maybe he lives in a tent,” Meg answered +absently, trying to see across the brook to the +tree where she knew Linda was sitting.</p> +<p>“Let’s walk down a little way,” suggested +Bobby. “We’ll come right back: Jud didn’t say +we couldn’t go wading. He only said to be +here when he came. Maybe we’ll find the man’s +house.”</p> +<p>Meg was willing enough, for she was no more +fond of sitting still than Bobby was. Holding +hands, they began cautiously to wade down +stream.</p> +<p>The water rushed more swiftly than they actually +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +liked, but neither would say so. Instead +they slipped over the stones and tried to walk +as fast as the water, and presently Meg had to +stop to get her breath.</p> +<p>“I hear a kitty crying,” she said the next minute. +“Listen, Bobby––don’t you hear a cat?”</p> +<p>But as noises often do, as soon as Bobby +listened intently, the noise stopped. He couldn’t +hear a thing and said so.</p> +<p>“There! Now don’t you hear it?” cried Meg. +“It’s a little kitty and it must be lost. Oh, +Bobby, we have to find it!”</p> +<p>Bobby could hear the kitten mewing now and +he was as eager to find it as Meg was. But how +could a kitten be in the brook?</p> +<p>“It’s back there!” Meg said, waving her hand +toward the marshy land. “Maybe, if we call it, +it will come.”</p> +<p>And together they called, “Kitty! Kitty! +Kitty!” but the little faint “Meow” sounded just +the same.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll have to hunt for it,” declared +Bobby, looking at the wet and soggy ground +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +rather regretfully. “I hope there aren’t any +snakes in there,” he added gloomily.</p> +<p>Meg had a horror of snakes and she didn’t +want her dearly loved brother to go where they +might be. Neither could she go away and leave +the kitten. So, like the brave and affectionate +little girl she was, she said she was going with +Bobby.</p> +<p>They hoped with all their hearts they wouldn’t +see a snake and they didn’t know what they +would do if they did, but they had no intention +of leaving that forlorn kitty cat to its own fate. +And, as sometimes happens, it turned out that +they did not have to go where they dreaded to +go at all.</p> +<p>“I see it!” cried Meg suddenly, her sharp +eyes having searched the bank near them, where +it jutted out into the water. “Look, Bobby, in +that crooked tree, hanging out over the brook.”</p> +<p>Bobby looked. At the very tip end of the +longest branch, there clung a tiny ball of dirty +white which must be the kitten.</p> +<p>“Scared to death,” commented Bobby. “I +don’t see how we can get it down: the more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +I shake the tree, the harder it will dig its claws +in. That’s the way cats do.”</p> +<p>But Meg was ready with a plan.</p> +<p>“You climb up the tree,” she told Bobby, “and +I’ll stand underneath and hold my skirts out; +you can pull the cat off and drop it down into +my lap.”</p> +<p>That was easier said than done, as they both +discovered the next minute. For one thing, the +water sucked past the tree in a current that +forced Meg to brace her feet wide apart to keep +her balance. And when Bobby had climbed +the tree, he found the limb wasn’t strong enough +to bear his weight and he couldn’t crawl out +to the cat.</p> +<p>“If I had a pole, I could push her off,” he +shouted to Meg.</p> +<p>“Bend it down,” she called. “Bend the branch +down and I’ll pick her off, Bobby.”</p> +<p>And, after one or two unsuccessful attempts +to bend the branch down, that was just what +they did do. Bobby managed to bend it within +arm’s reach of Meg, who detached the little cat +much as you pick a caterpillar off a leaf. Though +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +the cat stuck tighter to the branch than any +caterpillar was ever known to do.</p> +<p>“You’re all right,” said Meg soothingly, putting +the kitten in her dress and gathering it up +like a bag. “Soon as you get home, you can +have something to eat and you’ll feel much better.”</p> +<p>It was hard work, wading against the current, +but they helped each other and by good luck +reached the bush, just as they saw Jud starting +out from the other side. Dot and Twaddles +danced impatiently on the bank, but he had +evidently told them to stay there, for they did +not follow him.</p> +<p>“Jud! Jud!” called Bobby and Meg, beginning +to do a dance of their own. “You don’t +know what we found, Jud!”</p> +<p>“If I was you, I’d wait to do my prancing +on, dry ground,” Jud advised them as he waded +across. “It’s safer and drier.”</p> +<p>“Did Linda do the shirt? Is it mended?” +Meg asked eagerly, when Jud was within easy +talking distance.</p> +<p>“Mended tip-top,” announced Jud. “Buttons +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +all on, pocket sewed back, rip between the shoulders +all fixed. Never saw a neater job.”</p> +<p>“Linda is good as she can be,” Meg said +gratefully, holding her skirts with one hand +and reaching for the shirt with the other. “Let’s +spread it out just the way we found it.”</p> +<p>They draped the shirt as Meg insisted she +remembered seeing it, Jud all the while staring +curiously at the little girl.</p> +<p>“What are you holding in your skirt?” he +asked when she gave him her free hand and they +were ready to cross the brook.</p> +<p>“It’s a surprise,” Meg said mysteriously. “I +want to surprise Dot and Twaddles. You’ll +never be able to guess what it is, either, Jud.”</p> +<p>And just as she said that, her foot slipped.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_NEW_CAT' id='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_NEW_CAT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>THE NEW CAT</h3> +</div> +<p>Meg could not fall flat, for Jud had hold +of her hand, but she did drop her carefully +held skirt. There was a splash, a startled +“Meow!” and a shriek from Meg.</p> +<p>“Don’t let it drown!” she cried. “Jud, catch +it, quick!”</p> +<p>If Meg had planned to surprise the twins, +she could not have managed better. They +couldn’t quite see what was going on, but they +knew that something had happened.</p> +<p>“What is it?” they called. “Can we come +in, Jud, can’t we come see?”</p> +<p>Jud made a quick scoop with his hand and +brought out the miserable, clawing, spitting little +kitten.</p> +<p>“You stay where you are!” he ordered the +twins. “Say, where’ll I put this?” he asked +helplessly, turning to Meg.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span></div> +<p>She held up her skirt again and he dropped +the kitten in it, since that seemed to be the only +place, and as Meg afterward said she was “a +little damp” from the cat’s splash and more +water wouldn’t hurt.</p> +<p>Then Jud took hold of Meg’s hand more +firmly and Bobby’s, too, and they managed to +reach the opposite bank without any more mishaps.</p> +<p>“What is it? What is it?” Dot and Twaddles +begged, running up and down madly. “Did you +find something, Meg? Did you see the buttons +on the shirt? Did the man come and ask you +who took it?”</p> +<p>“We didn’t see anybody,” said Bobby, who +felt it was his duty to answer this flood of questions. +“I don’t believe the man lives very near, +because we didn’t see any house. But Meg +found something.”</p> +<p>By this time Aunt Polly and Linda had come +down to the brook, to see what was making the +twins more excited than usual.</p> +<p>“Meg found something!” Dot told Aunt +Polly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></div> +<p>“Did you, dear?” asked Aunt Polly, smiling. +“Don’t tell me it is another shirt, Meg.”</p> +<p>Meg stepped back and faced the group dramatically.</p> +<p>“It’s a cat!” she said, and held her “find” up +for them to see.</p> +<p>To her amazement, Linda and Jud went off +into fits of laughter and even Aunt Polly seemed +to be trying not to smile.</p> +<p>“I don’t see anything funny,” Meg announced +stiffly. “It’s a poor little almost dead cat. Bobby +and I found it down the brook, hanging on a +tree and afraid to climb off.”</p> +<p>“Why, the poor little thing!” said Aunt Polly +with ready sympathy. “We must take it home +and feed it, Meg.”</p> +<p>“I’m only laughing,” Linda explained, wiping +her eyes, “because it is such a distressed-looking +cat, Meg. It’s so dirty and so little and so––so +mad!” she finished as the cat humped up its +back and spit at Twaddles who tried to stroke it.</p> +<p>“Stray kittens don’t make friends very readily,” +said kind Aunt Polly. “They think everyone +is their enemy, till proved otherwise. We +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +must teach your kitten, Meg, that at Brookside +Farm we like kitty cats.”</p> +<p>“Where do you suppose it came from?” Bobby +asked.</p> +<p>“Oh, some one had more cats than they wanted, +so they turned it loose, down by the brook,” said +Jud. “It’s a mean trick and if I ever caught a +person doing it, I wouldn’t waste a second giving +him a piece of my mind.”</p> +<p>Meg stared at the forlorn white kitten gravely.</p> +<p>“You don’t suppose it belongs to the man who +washed the shirt, do you?” she suggested +earnestly.</p> +<p>Linda laughed. She was busily wrapping up +the cat in tissue paper––of all things!––because +she happened to have a big wad of it in her +basket.</p> +<p>“There!” she said, handing the astonished kitten +to Meg. “I can’t bear to have dirty things +around me––you carry her like that and as soon +as we get home I’ll wash her. If the cat did +belong to the man whose shirt I mended, I +suppose you’d feel like going back and cutting +the buttons off, eh, Meg?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div> +<p>Meg blushed a little.</p> +<p>“No-o, I wouldn’t do that,” she replied slowly, +“but next time I wouldn’t bother.”</p> +<p>However, Jud said that he didn’t think a man +who had to wash his clothes in the brook and +dry them on a bush had any cats.</p> +<p>“What are you going to call your find, Meg?” +asked Jud when they were riding home at half-past +four, Peter eating his sandwiches gratefully.</p> +<p>“Shirt,” Meg answered placidly. “What are +you laughing at? It’s white, like the shirt we +found, and if it hadn’t been for the shirt we +wouldn’t have found the kitten at all and it +might have fallen into the water and been +drowned.”</p> +<p>And in spite of some teasing and much joking, +Meg continued to call the stray kitten +“Shirt.” True to her word, Linda washed the +little creature and when its fur dried it proved +to be very pretty, soft and silky. The kitty had +blue eyes and by the time it was a full-grown +cat, Aunt Polly was immensely proud of it.</p> +<p>For Shirt lived at Brookside Farm and did +not go with the four little Blossoms when they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +went home to Oak Hill. Aunt Polly said Poots +would miss him and that cats didn’t like to +change their homes, anyway, and Meg knew this +to be true. And every year, at Christmas time, +Meg remembered to send Shirt a Christmas +present and when she came to visit Aunt Polly, +he always seemed to know her.</p> +<p>The week of rain which Aunt Polly had predicted +and which had led her to hasten the picnic, +arrived two or three days after the adventure +in the brook. The exceedingly practical Meg +remarked at the breakfast table, the first rainy +morning, that she didn’t care if it did rain––Shirt +was safe in a dry place and the man had +had plenty of time to get his wash dry and take it +in off the bush.</p> +<p>“I wonder what he said when he saw the buttons,” +speculated Dot.</p> +<p>But this was one question that never received +an answer, for the children never saw the man +who owned the shirt and they never heard +whether he was pleased to find his mending done +or not.</p> +<p>“Maybe he thought the birds did it for him,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +said Twaddles helpfully and was delighted when +Jud told him that there was a bird called the +tailor bird.</p> +<p>“Then he did it,” Twaddles declared, and +when Dot pointed out that they had seen Linda +doing the work, Twaddles explained that he +meant the man would think the tailor bird had +done it.</p> +<p>It was talk like this between the twins that +made Jud say it gave him a headache if he +listened too long.</p> +<p>“We haven’t had a rain like this in a long +time,” said Aunt Polly, glancing out of the dining-room +window at the dripping leaves.</p> +<p>“Not since we lost the raft,” Bobby reminded +her.</p> +<p>“I wonder if we’ll ever find that,” said Meg +for the fortieth time.</p> +<p>“If I were you,” Aunt Polly announced +briskly, “I’d think up the nicest thing to do for a +rainy day and have just as much fun as I +could.”</p> +<p>“Let’s go out in the barn,” suggested Twaddles.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></div> +<p>“We could see what Jud is doing,” Dot chimed +in.</p> +<p>“He’s mending the corn shelter,” said Bobby, +who usually knew what was going on at the +farm.</p> +<p>“I think it would be fun to play lighthouse +in the barn and take our lunch and stay all day,” +Meg declared, having thought of this while the +others were talking.</p> +<p>None of them knew what the lighthouse game +might be, but it sounded new and exciting. Aunt +Polly said she didn’t see why they couldn’t have +a picnic in the barn as well as outdoors and she +promised to help Linda put up a lunch for +them.</p> +<p>“Only remember not to bother Jud, if he is +busy,” she cautioned them.</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms knew how to run “between +the drops” and as soon as their lunch was +packed, they kissed Aunt Polly and started for +the barn at breakneck speed. Flushed and +breathless and hardly wet at all, they burst into +the barn and told Jud, who was busy on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +main floor, that they were going to have another +picnic.</p> +<p>“You do manage to have a good time, all +right,” he said approvingly. “Where are you +going to play?”</p> +<p>They looked at Meg. It was her game and +she was the only one who knew the best place +to go.</p> +<p>“We have to play in the loft,” directed Meg. +“We’re going to live in a lighthouse, Jud, and +pull things up and down.”</p> +<p>Jud did not understand at first and when she +told him, he said that lighthouse keepers did not +live at the top of the lighthouse and pull things +up, but instead they lived in a neat little house +built on the ground, like other houses, and +climbed the tall stairs to take care of the light.</p> +<p>“Well, I think it would be more fun to live +up high,” said Meg, and Jud said that was the +best of a “pretend” play. You could do it to +suit yourself.</p> +<p>The four children scrambled up the loft ladder––practice +had made this once difficult feat +easy for them––and for a half hour jumped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +about in the clean, sweet hay, forgetting their +game. The smooth, slippery hay, piled in such +masses, never failed to fascinate them.</p> +<p>“Now let’s play lighthouse,” suggested Meg, +when Twaddles had come down rather hard on +his nose and was trying not to cry. “First thing +we need is a basket and rope.”</p> +<p>They found a basket Jud said they might take +and he got a piece of rope for them. Then they +argued about staying down on the floor of the +barn to put things in the basket for, of course, +each one wanted to pull the basket up; that was +the interesting part.</p> +<p>“Take turns,” Bobby advised. “I’ll stay down +first, and let Meg pull up first, because she +thought of this game.”</p> +<p>So Meg ran up the ladder and Bobby put in +the lunch box and she pulled and tugged and +at last succeeded in pulling the basket up to +the loft.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_RAINY_DAY_FUN' id='CHAPTER_XVII_RAINY_DAY_FUN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>RAINY DAY FUN</h3> +</div> +<p>“I’ll bury it in the hay, before Twaddles +comes up,” said Meg to herself. “He always +wants to eat everything up right away.”</p> +<p>She peeped over the edge of the haymow and +saw the twins, one on either side of Bobby, staring +up. They looked funny, for their mouths +were open and Meg giggled a little.</p> +<p>“Send the basket back,” Twaddles called. +“We want to put something in it.”</p> +<p>“All right––wait a minute,” answered Meg.</p> +<p>She ran back and hastily stuffed the lunch box +under the hay, pulling a pile over it so that it +did not show at all. Then she rushed to the +edge of the mow, but she was in such haste not +to keep the others waiting that she dropped the +basket, rope and all.</p> +<p>It rapped Dot on the head and she looked +astonished.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div> +<p>“I don’t see why you threw it at me,” she +said resentfully.</p> +<p>“I didn’t,” Meg explained. “I forgot to hold +the rope. Shall I come down and get it?”</p> +<p>“Twaddles will bring you the rope,” said +Bobby. “Soon as I put something in the basket. +Let’s see, what shall we put in next?”</p> +<p>“There’s Poots,” Dot suggested, pointing to +the cat who had followed them.</p> +<p>“I don’t think she’ll like it,” objected Meg, +but Bobby was eager to send the cat aloft and +he and Twaddles together managed to stuff her +in the basket.</p> +<p>Bobby held her there while Twaddles took +one end of the rope in his hand and scrambled +up the ladder to the waiting Meg.</p> +<p>“Where did you put the lunch?” he asked as +soon as he reached the loft.</p> +<p>“I put it away,” Meg assured him. “Are you +going to help me pull the basket up, Twaddles?”</p> +<p>Twaddles was eager to help and he forgot +the lunch. He stood back of Meg and they +both began to pull. Poots meowed sadly as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +she felt herself rising and Bobby and Dot +shouted to the pullers to “hurry up.”</p> +<p>“Poots will jump out in a minute,” warned +Bobby.</p> +<p>Twaddles’ foot slipped on the soft hay and he +went down, slackening his hold on the rope as +he fell. Meg turned to see what had happened +to him, let the rope sag, and the basket fell a +foot or two with sickening speed.</p> +<p>This was too much for any self-respecting cat +and with a wild snarl Poots leaped clear over +the heads of Bobby and Dot. The angry cat +landed on his feet on the barn floor ten feet +away, and dashed out into the rain. Getting his +fur coat soaking wet was preferable to being +hoisted about in a basket, he seemed to say.</p> +<p>“What did you do to Poots?” called Jud. +“When he went out of that door, his tail was +two feet around!”</p> +<p>“We were only playing with him,” Bobby +said. “But maybe he didn’t like it much.”</p> +<p>“If you have time to play with the cat, you +have time to help me,” declared Jud. “Don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +you and Meg want to come and help me see +if this sheller is going to work?”</p> +<p>Bobby and Meg loved to help Jud and they +left their game cheerfully, to go to the corncrib. +It was attached to the other end of the barn, so +they didn’t have to go out in the rain. Jud +wanted to watch the machinery he had mended +and he asked Meg to turn the crank and Bobby +to feed in the ears of corn. They were never +allowed to touch the sheller unless some older +person was around, for little fingers could get +easily nipped in the cog wheels. So they were +rather proud to be especially asked to help Jud +make it work.</p> +<p>“I thought the twins were coming,” said Jud, +absently, bending down to tighten a screw.</p> +<p>“They must have stayed to play with the basket,” +Meg replied.</p> +<p>And that was just what the twins were doing, +playing with the basket.</p> +<p>“You put something in it and let me pull it +up,” commanded Dot.</p> +<p>“I haven’t anything to put in it,” Twaddles +offered. “The cat’s gone.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span></div> +<p>“Well you don’t have to have a cat,” said Dot +impatiently. “I know what we can get––eggs!”</p> +<p>There were always two or three hens that +persisted in stealing their nests and the twins +had a fair idea of where these stolen nests were +in the barn. They often found the eggs and +took them in to Linda.</p> +<p>Now, after a few minutes’ search, they found +seven eggs and put them in the basket with +great glee.</p> +<p>“Let me pull it up after you do?” asked Twaddles +as Dot climbed up the ladder.</p> +<p>“Well––perhaps,” she replied carefully. “I +might want to pull it up more than once myself.”</p> +<p>She began to pull on the rope and the basket +dangled in the air. Whether the sound of voices +made Dot nervous, or whether the basket was +heavier than she had expected, it is hard to say. +But just as Jud and Bobby and Meg came out +on the barn floor, Dot let that basket fall.</p> +<p>“Good grief!” exclaimed Jud.</p> +<p>Twaddles seemed glued to one spot and the +basket crashed down almost under his nose. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +eggs broke and some splashed up and sprayed +him, but most of the contents ran out on the +floor in a bright yellow stream.</p> +<p>“You took eggs!” Meg said accusingly.</p> +<p>“Well, nobody said not to,” answered Dot in +a rather frightened voice, peering over the edge +of the loft.</p> +<p>“All right, I’ll say it now,” Jud proclaimed. +“After this, it is against the rules to put anything +in the basket which will break. Remember +that. And now, let me see if I can wipe you +off, Twaddles.”</p> +<p>Jud found a cloth and mopped the egg off +Twaddles––fortunately not much had reached +him––and then Dot suggested that they do something +else.</p> +<p>“We could eat,” Twaddles said placidly, +which made Jud laugh.</p> +<p>“I’m going to start feeding the stock, so perhaps +it isn’t too early for you to have lunch,” +he said. “That is one sure way to keep the +twins quiet, Meg.”</p> +<p>Dot called after him that she hadn’t said anything +about eating, but Jud didn’t hear her. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +was already measuring out corn for the horses.</p> +<p>“Where is the lunch?” asked Bobby, who began +to feel hungry himself.</p> +<p>“I know––I’ll get it,” Meg replied, and ran +up the ladder.</p> +<p>She felt around in the hay where she had +buried the box, but she couldn’t find it. The +other children came up and watched her curiously, +but still she couldn’t feel anything like +a box.</p> +<p>“What are you looking for?” said Dot curiously.</p> +<p>“For our lunch,” Meg told her, almost ready +to cry. “I put it under the hay and now I can’t +find it.”</p> +<p>Bobby and the twins hastily got down beside +her and tossed the hay around. They looked +where Meg said she put the box and they looked +where she was sure it couldn’t be, but all that +happened was that they got very warm and tired +indeed and not one sign of the lunch did they +uncover.</p> +<p>“Do you know what I think?” said Twaddles +wisely. “I think some rat found it and ate it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +I’ve seen rats up here in the loft, lots of times.”</p> +<p>Meg glanced around hastily. She wasn’t at +all anxious to see a rat.</p> +<p>“Rats couldn’t eat the box and everything in +it,” Bobby argued. “They would leave pieces +of paper and things that we would see.”</p> +<p>“Then where is the box?” demanded Dot.</p> +<p>Bobby sat down to think and Meg waited respectfully.</p> +<p>“We’ll have to get a pitchfork and turn over +all the hay,” Bobby decided. “That’s the only +way to find the box: it’s lost in all this hay.”</p> +<p>He was willing to go and get the pitchfork, +but he was gone several minutes. When he came +back, Jud was with him.</p> +<p>“Pitchforks and Twaddles won’t mix,” declared +Jud firmly. “We’ll have to manage some +other way. Show me where you hid the box, +Meg.”</p> +<p>Meg showed him, as nearly as she could remember. +Jud knelt down and felt under the +hay, while the children stared at him as though +they expected him to work some kind of magic.</p> +<p>“I think I can find it,” he announced. “You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +all sit down and close your eyes tightly and +don’t open them till I give the word.”</p> +<p>So they sat down on the floor and Dot put +her head in Meg’s lap, for it was hard for her +to keep her eyes closed. She always wanted +to see what was going on.</p> +<p>Meg counted to ninety-eight before she heard +Jud cry, “All right!”</p> +<p>The four little Blossoms opened their eyes +and there stood Jud, the lunch box in his hand. +He was smiling.</p> +<p>“How did you find it?” asked Meg. “Was +it under the hay?”</p> +<p>“On top,” said Jud mysteriously. “You see, +Meg, the box fell through the slats and landed +on top of a ration of hay in one of the stalls. +All I had to do was to go downstairs and get +it.”</p> +<p>Linda had packed the box so neatly and so +firmly that nothing was damaged and the children +had a delightful picnic up in the loft. They +played there most of the afternoon, too, and +often during the rainy days that followed. Indeed +they amused themselves so well and were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +so little trouble to Aunt Polly, that she promised +them one more outdoor picnic, the first dry sunny +day that came.</p> +<p>“Be sure you save me some sandwiches,” said +Peter, when he heard about it.</p> +<p>They promised and it was Dot who woke up +the household bright and early when she saw +the sun streaming in at the window.</p> +<p>“We can have the picnic!” she shouted joyfully. +“Aunt Polly, isn’t it dry and sunny? Get +up, Twaddles, we can have the picnic.”</p> +<p>It was a sunny day, but it wasn’t so dry, for +the ground was still damp from so much rain.</p> +<p>“But if we go wading, the water’s wet,” argued +Dot, and Linda, too, thought they might as well +go.</p> +<p>“Don’t forget my sandwiches,” Peter reminded +them as he saw them start.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_END_OF_THE_VACATION' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_END_OF_THE_VACATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>THE END OF THE VACATION</h3> +</div> +<p>The four little Blossoms wanted to go to +the same place where they had gone before +and Jud drove them. Then he was to take the +horses and wagon back for his father to use +during the day and Peter would come for the +picnickers in the afternoon and get his sandwiches.</p> +<p>“Don’t go wading till Jud comes,” said Aunt +Polly, when good-natured Jud had gone back. +“Help Linda spread out the rubber blanket, for +we want to be comfortable while you play +around.”</p> +<p>The children spread out the blanket and on +top of that Aunt Polly spread a cotton one and +then she and Linda sat down to sew.</p> +<p>“Let’s go see if there is another shirt spread +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +out to dry,” suggested Meg, and she was much +excited when they saw a bit of white fluttering +from a bush.</p> +<p>“’Tisn’t the same place,” Dot argued.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s almost the same place,” retorted +Bobby. “Only it looks ragged,” he added.</p> +<p>Meg was eager to go and examine the white +thing, but she knew they would have to wait +for Jud. Aunt Polly laughed when she heard +about it and said that Meg would have Linda +running a mending shop if she was not very +careful.</p> +<p>“After we have lunch, if Jud is willing to +take you, you may go over and see what it is,” +she told her little niece kindly. “You’d have +every one nicely washed and mended if you +could, wouldn’t you, Meg?”</p> +<p>Jud came back on foot and after he had rested +a minute, declared he was willing to wade the +brook with the children. But Aunt Polly insisted +they must have lunch first and of course +no one wanted to miss that. As soon as the last +crumb was gone, however, the children began +to tease and Jud said they might as well go. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +had laughed at the idea of another shirt, but +half way across the stream he seemed to change +his mind.</p> +<p>“Guess somebody lost his shirt,” observed Jud, +keeping a firm grip on Dot, who seemed to be +trying to dance.</p> +<p>“Say, wouldn’t it be funny,” began Bobby, but +Meg had the same idea at the same time.</p> +<p>“Do you suppose it could–––” she said +slowly.</p> +<p>“It’s the raft!” yelled Twaddles, breaking +away from Jud, and rushing into the bushes. +“It’s our raft––Oh, Jud!” Twaddles had +stepped on a sharp stone.</p> +<p>“I wish you’d be a little more careful,” said +Jud calmly. “Well, it is the raft! Can you +beat that?”</p> +<p>Tangled in broken reeds and a few prickly +bushes, lay their raft, Geraldine smiling as +sweetly as ever and still propped up against +Meg’s book. Nothing was missing, not even +Twaddles’ singing bird or Bobby’s airplane.</p> +<p>“I’m so glad!” Meg kept saying. “I’m so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +glad! Now let’s go home and play with them.”</p> +<p>“It’s lucky we’ve had this long, dry spell,” +said Jud, picking up Geraldine and eyeing her +critically. “If we’d had one good storm, good-by +toys.”</p> +<p>Dot tucked Geraldine under her arm, Twaddles +stuffed his bird into his pocket, Meg took +her book and Bobby his airplane, and Jud offered +to tow the raft. So slowly and carefully +they made their way back to where Jud had left +his socks and shoes.</p> +<p>Aunt Polly and Linda were surprised and delighted +when they saw the children coming, for +they had begun to wonder what they could be +doing.</p> +<p>“You don’t mean to tell me you found the +raft!” exclaimed Aunt Polly, when she heard the +news. “Why, that’s the best luck I ever heard +of.”</p> +<p>And Linda said “My goodness!” over and +over, and wanted to know just where they had +found it and who saw it first and how they had +managed to reach it.</p> +<p>“You’ve played enough in the water,” said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +Aunt Polly, when each child had told the story. +“Put on your shoes and stockings and see if you +can’t find me a maidenhair fern for my fern-box.”</p> +<p>Meg found it first, and then Jud lent her his +jack-knife and showed her how to take it up so +that the roots would not be injured. Then he +left her for a minute while he went back to get +a paper cup from Linda to plant it in, and when +he came back he found her backed up against +a tree and looking frightened.</p> +<p>“What scared you?” he asked quickly. “Did +you see a snake, Meg?”</p> +<p>“No,” she whispered. “I don’t know what it +was. But it stared and stared at me, Jud.”</p> +<p>“Well, where did you see it?” demanded Jud +briskly. “Let me have a whack at it with this +branch. Where’d you see it, Meg?”</p> +<p>“In the hole in this tree,” answered Meg. “I +was shaking more dirt off the fern when I +looked up and there it was jiggling at me.”</p> +<p>“Where?” asked Jud again, a bit impatiently. +“I don’t see any hole.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></div> +<p>“I’m standing over it,” said Meg, “so the +thing can’t get away.”</p> +<p>Meg, you see, was frightened, but not too +frightened to be interested and curious about a +strange animal.</p> +<p>“I’m sure it’s an animal, ’cause it moves,” she +told Jud, as she stood aside to let him look in the +hole.</p> +<p>Jud put his hand in the hole––it was an old +dead tree and hollow at the top––and drew out +something soft and fluffy.</p> +<p>“Just as I thought,” he chuckled. “It’s a +baby owl.”</p> +<p>“Oh, how cunning,” cried Meg, coming closer +and venturing to put a finger on the bunch of +feathers. “But what a funny face, Jud!”</p> +<p>Indeed the baby owl looked like a very young +and foolish monkey as it sat in Jud’s hands and +rolled its head and stared aimlessly.</p> +<p>“He’s pretty near blind,” Jud explained. “In +the daytime owls can hardly see at all. I suspect +there’s a nest in this old tree. Want to hold +it for me while I feel?”</p> +<p>Meg was certainly not afraid of a baby owl, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +and she took it tenderly. Sure enough, Jud +knew what he was talking about––he put his arm +away into the tree trunk and brought out two +more little owls.</p> +<p>Twaddles and Dot had come up by this time, +and they were perfectly entranced with the +queer little birds.</p> +<p>Jud carefully put the baby owls back. Then +they planted the fern in the paper cup, found +Bobby, who was trying to fish with a breadcrumb +tied to a string, and told him about the +owls, and then they heard the wagon coming for +them.</p> +<p>“Have a good time?” asked Peter, as he +helped them all in and the wagon started its +noisy trip home. Peter was eating one of the +sandwiches they had saved for him and looked +very contented.</p> +<p>“Such a nice time,” said the four little Blossoms.</p> +<p>“Was there any mail?” asked Aunt Polly.</p> +<p>“Just one letter,” replied Peter.</p> +<p>But that was a very important letter, as the +Blossoms found out when they were once more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +at home and Aunt Polly read it to them while +Linda was getting supper.</p> +<p>“Mother’s coming!” cried Bobby, meeting +Jud on his way to the barn.</p> +<p>“That’s fine,” said Jud heartily. Then his +face fell.</p> +<p>“But you don’t want to go home yet!” he +urged. “Vacation isn’t over so soon, is it? +There’s lots we planned to do we haven’t done.”</p> +<p>“Mother’s going to stay a week,” said Bobby +happily. “School doesn’t open for two weeks, +but we have to go home and get ready. Say, +Jud, I didn’t miss Mother––not such a lot, that +is––but now I miss her dreadful much.”</p> +<p>When Mother Blossom came she found all +the children in the car with Aunt Polly to meet +her. And the things they did during that one +week, from another picnic to having all the new +friends they had made at Brookside come to supper, +including Mr. Sparks––well, Linda said +there was more going on than there had been all +through the summer, and Linda ought to have +known!</p> +<p>“I s’pect Aunt Polly will miss us,” said Twaddles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +the last morning of their visit, as Mother +Blossom was buttoning Dot into a clean frock +and Aunt Polly was on her knees locking the +trunks.</p> +<p>“I s’pect I shall,” said Aunt Polly, tears in +her kind eyes.</p> +<p>This was too much for Twaddles.</p> +<p>“You come and stay at our house,” he told her +earnestly. “And you can come and visit school.”</p> +<p>For the twins still insisted they were going to +school.</p> +<p>Aunt Polly promised that she would come to +see them some time during the winter and that +she wouldn’t cry any more but just remember +the nice times they had had together that summer.</p> +<p>“And if you go to school, you’ll learn to write, +and then I shall look for letters,” she said seriously.</p> +<p>So the four little Blossoms started home for +Oak Hill and found a Daddy Blossom there very +glad to see them, as well as Norah and Sam and +Philip, who, as Meg observed, had “grown considerable.” +He wasn’t lame any more, either.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></div> +<p>And if you want to read about what Meg and +Bobby did in school, and how the twins contrived +to go to school, too, in spite of the fact +that they were only four years old, you must read +the next book about them which is called “Four +Little Blossoms at Oak Hill School.”</p> +<p>“Oh, but it’s been a perfectly lovely summer, +hasn’t it?” said Meg, while she was helping +unpack her things.</p> +<p>“Best ever,” declared Bobby.</p> +<p>“And just think––we own a cow!” cried Dot.</p> +<p>“And maybe––when she gets big––we can +milk her,” added Twaddles. “Oh, I like the +country––I do.”</p> +<p>“Let’s all buy a farm when we grow up,” suggested +Bobby.</p> +<p>“Let’s!” all the others cried in chorus.</p> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE END</p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0801 --> +<!-- timestamp: Mon Aug 03 12:29:02 -0400 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm, by +Mabel C. 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