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Page 2
"Glory be!" cried the long-suffering Norah. "Be off with ye, and
I'll clean up the mud. The more helpful ye try to be, Twaddles,
the more work ye make."
Twaddles departed with as much dignity as he could muster, and
running through the front hall found his mother and his brother
Bobby looking at the window boxes on the front porch. The boxes
had been put away for the winter and that morning Father Blossom
had brought them down to see about painting them.
"Can I plant things?" demanded Twaddles.
Meg, who was digging contentedly in the flower bed at the foot of
the steps, looked at him sympathetically. Meg's fair little face
was flushed and there was a streak of dirt across her small
straight nose and she was unmistakably very busy and very happy.
"Isn't it fun?" she greeted her little brother. "Mother says we
may each have a garden this year; didn't you, Mother?"
"I surely did," agreed Mother Blossom, smiling. "What is Dot
bringing?"
Around the corner of the house came Dot, Twaddles' twin sister.
Her hair-ribbon drooped perilously on the end of a straggling lock
of dark hair and her pretty dark blue frock hung in a gap below
the belt where it had pulled loose at the gathers. Dot always had
trouble about keeping her frocks neat.
"I got a hose!" she declared triumphantly. "Daddy won't have to
buy one. The Mertons threw this out on the trash basket and I
brought it home. I guess Daddy can mend it."
Bobby shouted with laughter.
"That's the old piece they used to beat rugs with," he said
positively, "Nobody could mend that."
"Come see the robin I found," suggested Twaddles. "It's getting
dry on the shelf warmer. Perhaps we can keep him to play with."
"That you can't," said Mother Blossom quickly. "It wouldn't be
right in the first place, and in the second place it is against
the law. You must put him out in the grass again, Twaddles, as
soon as he is warm and dry."
"Daddy!" Meg's quick eyes had seen a car making the corner turn.
"Here comes Daddy! What color is the car, Bobby?"
"Black--no, blue, dark blue!" cried Bobby.
As the comfortable touring car drew up at the curb and the smiling
driver waved a gloved hand at the eager group on the porch, Dot
jumped up and down with excitement.
"Take me, Daddy?" she shrieked. "Aren't you going?"
Pell-mell the children raced down the garden path and Mrs. Blossom
followed more leisurely.
"Aren't you going?" Dot kept repeating. "Aren't you going?"
"You don't care much where you go, do you, Dot?" asked her father
whimsically. "The main idea with you seems to be to keep moving.
How about it, Mother--want to take a little drive?" Mrs. Blossom
glanced toward the house.
"I'm as bad as the children," she confessed. "It must be this
Spring weather. I really ought to be upstairs mending stockings,
but how can I stay indoors on a day like this?"
"Get your hat," said Mr. Blossom crisply. "That settles it--we're
going to take a spin. Pile in, youngsters."
Mother Blossom came back with her hat and sweaters for the
children, and Norah came to the door to wave to them and see the
new car. It was a very handsome, nicely finished model, painted
dark blue, as Bobby had said. The seats were upholstered in dark
blue rep and there was plenty of room for the Blossom family and
for guests, when they had them.
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