|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 19
"Oh, dear," sighed Twaddles. "I didn't mean to drop it, Daddy.
Honestly, it slipped."
Father Blossom looked rather grim, for his patience with the
useless cage was sorely tried.
"I'll get it," shouted the solitary walker, who had turned on
hearing the car and now ran back toward the Blossoms.
He was a pleasant-faced man, rather shabbily dressed, with a soft
felt hat pulled well down over honest gray eyes. He handed the
cage up to Twaddles smiling and revealing a set of square, even
white teeth. Father Blossom started as the light fell clearly
across the man's face.
"Dick Harley!" he ejaculated. "Where did you drop from?"
The man pushed his hat back and his smile changed to a slow,
sheepish grin. His hair was quite gray at the temples and Meg
privately decided that he must be old.
"Well, well, Mr. Blossom!" he exclaimed, plainly pleased. "You're
the last person I ever expected to meet right here. This your
family?"
"Get in, if you're going our way," said Father Blossom cordially.
"Margaret, you remember Dick Harley?"
Mother Blossom held out her hand.
"Of course I do, though it has been several years since we've seen
each other," she said pleasantly. "Oh, there's plenty of room, Mr.
Harley. You sit with Mr. Blossom and I'll take Dot on my lap."
Dot was passed over the back seat, and Mr. Harley sat in the front
seat with Twaddles between him and Father Blossom.
"This your family?" he repeated. "Which is the little feller I
used to hold in my lap?"
"That was Bobby," smiled Mother Blossom. "He's seven years old
now. This is Meg, and the two youngsters are our twins, Twaddles
and Dot. We're going to Apple Tree Island. I have never been back
since--"
She stopped, afraid that perhaps she had recalled painful memories
to Mr. Harley. But his attractive smile slowly overspread his face
again.
"That so?" he said with interest. "I haven't been there myself in
quite a spell. I expect the boys have grown out of sight. I'm on
my way now to see the wife and kids."
The Blossom family remained perfectly silent. What could they say?
CHAPTER VIII
OLD BROOKSIDE FRIENDS
"Yes," repeated Mr. Harley comfortably. "I don't suppose the boys
will know me. Dick must be ten now, and Herbert's a year older. I
calculate to stay over to-night with Joe Gates and his wife in
Pomona (that's why you folks overtook me walking along this road)
and he'll row me up to the island."
The four little Blossoms wriggled uneasily. Even Dot and Twaddles,
young as they were, could guess something of what Mr. Harley's
sorrow would be when he learned that no wife and children waited
for his coming on pretty Apple Tree Island. Meg glanced at Mother
Blossom. That lady shook her head slightly, as a signal not to
speak.
"Isn't that a sign of spring water for sale?" said Father Blossom
suddenly. "Hand me the vacuum bottles, Margaret, please, and I'll
have them filled. The children may be thirsty again before we get
to Polly's. Dick, will you help me? We've a bottle for each
youngster and they're slippery things to handle."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|