Four Little Blossoms on Apple Tree Island by Mabel C. Hawley


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Page 3

"May I ride with you, Daddy?" asked Meg.

"It's my turn," insisted Twaddles. "Isn't it, Daddy?"

"That was the old car," said Bobby. "This is beginning all over.
Isn't it, Daddy? Meg and I should ride in the front seat first,
'cause we're the oldest."

"If we have to hear this every time we go driving, I'm afraid
Mother will refuse to go with us," answered Father Blossom
seriously. "Suppose we settle the question another time and to-day
let the three girls ride in the tonneau? I'll need Bobby to keep
an eye on Twaddles because I'll have to give all my attention to
the wheel."

"I know you must miss Sam," said Mother Blossom, as Meg and Dot
climbed in beside her and Bobby and Twaddles took their places in
the front seat beside Father Blossom. "He was such an excellent
driver."

"Well, in a way, he kept me from learning," said her husband,
starting the car a trifle unevenly. "Sam was so fine a driver I
was perfectly content to let him run the car and never even felt
ambitious to drive myself. If we want to go anywhere this summer,
I'll be glad I have my own driver's license. What's the matter,
Twaddles?"

"I dropped my handkerchief," announced Twaddles sadly. "Right in
the mud. See? it's back there, Daddy."

"Well, I hardly think we'll stop for that," said Father Blossom
judicially. "You've plenty of those little cotton things and I
want to go as far as the lake road before supper time."

"It wasn't a little cotton thing," reported Twaddles, whose
conscience was peculiar in that it usually bothered him too late.
"I borrowed one of your nice, white hankies, Daddy, to wrap my
sick bird in."

"Well, I must say!" sputtered Father Blossom. "I must say! Oh,
Twaddles, why do you always do something you shouldn't? Those
handkerchiefs are pure linen and hand-initialed. I'll have to
stop--you run back and see if you can find it."

He stopped the car and Twaddles obediently jumped out and ran back
to the place where he had dropped the handkerchief. When he had
had plenty of time to return, and didn't appear, Bobby stood up in
the car to look.

"He's fussing with something," he announced. "He's got a stick and
is poking something. I'd better go and get him, hadn't I, Daddy?"

"The child has probably found a garden snake or a frog," said
Mother Blossom, who knew her children thoroughly, as her next
remark proved. "If Bobby goes after Twaddles they will play with
it until dark. Let Meg go. Tell Twaddles, dear, that he is to come
immediately. And don't let him forget the handkerchief."

Meg ran all the way to where Twaddles sat on a stone blissfully
engrossed with something in the roadway.

"Mother says to come this minute," she commanded. "What you got,
Twaddles?"

"There! you've scared it," said Twaddles regretfully. "It was a
dear little snake. All right, I'm coming. I was all ready to start
when you came."

After this delay the trip went smoothly, and Father Blossom
declared that he was pleased with the new car. They reached the
broad, level lake road and drove for several miles along it until
Mother Blossom said that if they were not to keep Norah's supper
waiting, they must turn back.

"Want to get out, Meg?" Father Blossom asked his little daughter
gently.

Meg was always afraid when it was necessary to turn a car. She
usually got out when Sam Layton, the Blossom's former chauffeur,
backed their car or found a turn necessary. Now, however, she
shook her head. Meg was learning, too.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 22nd Dec 2024, 14:01