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Page 18
"We don't go on the boat," answered Mother Blossom. "We go as far
as Little Havre, at the lower end of Lake Tobago, where we took
the boat, and then we branch off and follow the lake shore road
that brings us straight to Brookside Farm and Aunt Polly."
"I dropped my cage," announced Twaddles conversationally.
Of course there was nothing to do but stop the car and let him get
out and run back for it. Father Blossom was a skillful driver now
and there was no danger that the steering wheel would play him
strange tricks.
Presently it was lunch time, and as Father and Mother Blossom had
foreseen that traveling in the balmy Spring air and sunshine might
sharpen appetites, they had arranged to have a picnic under the
largest and shadiest tree that could be found. How glad the four
little Blossoms were to get out of the car and run about on the
grass, and how good Norah's sandwiches did taste! There was milk
for the children, and coffee for Father and Mother, and after the
meal was finished, Father Blossom showed the children how to bury
the papers and waste so that the pretty meadow spot might not be
spoiled for the next picnic party.
"Where are we going to have supper?" speculated Dot, as she
snuggled into the car beside Mother Blossom. Dot was a great girl
to consider the future.
"Can't you guess?" teased Mother Blossom.
"I know!" cried Meg. "Aunt Polly's."
Dot and Twaddles enjoyed a little nap that sunny afternoon, but
Meg and Bobby were wide awake every instant. When they came to
Little Havre the twins awoke and sat up, a bit heavy-eyed, but
inclined to be resentful that they had missed anything at all.
"There's the wharf!" shouted Twaddles. "'Member the organ-grinder
man, Dot? And there's the restaurant where you spilled the milk on
your dress."
"I want to get a few directions," said Father Blossom, running the
car close to the curb under a drooping willow tree. "Don't get
out, any one, for I'll be right back."
He disappeared into the real-estate office on the corner, and the
four little Blossoms amused themselves by watching the people
hurrying down to make the afternoon boat.
"We'll beat them, won't we, Mother?" asked Meg. "And this time
Aunt Polly won't have to come to meet us."
Father Blossom came hurrying back and climbed into his seat.
"I'm glad I asked," he told Mother Blossom. "They're repairing a
stretch of the lake shore road and we'll have to make a short
detour. It won't add more than half an hour to our running time."
They moved forward slowly, for the narrow streets of the little
town observed no traffic rules, and boat passengers, baby
carriages, horses, jitneys and automobiles had to find their way
about as best they could, and then, when they reached the open
road, Father Blossom allowed his car to gather more speed.
"Isn't the lake pretty!" said Meg, as they rounded a curve and saw
the water shining through the screen of trees. "What do you
suppose they are doing in that funny boat?"
"Fishing, aren't they, Daddy?" Bobby asked. "I hope I can go
fishing. Palmer Davis went with his father twice last year."
"I'll take you," Father Blossom promised.
"There's a man walking," Dot announced suddenly.
Before any one could stop him, Twaddles had mounted his seat, his
precious cage under his arm.
"Where?" he demanded.
Then he lost his balance and the cage shot over the side of the
car.
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