Four Little Blossoms and Their Winter Fun

Four Little Blossoms and Their
Winter Fun

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Four Little Blossoms and Their
Winter Fun
by Mabel C. Hawley This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at
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Title: Four Little Blossoms and Their Winter Fun
Author: Mabel C. Hawley
Release Date: April 19, 2005 [EBook #15655]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR
LITTLE BLOSSOMS AND ***

Produced by Al Haines

FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AND THEIR WINTER FUN

BY
MABEL C. HAWLEY

AUTHOR OF "FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT BROOKSIDE
FARM," "FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT OAK HILL SCHOOL,"

ETC.

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Akron, Ohio New York

Copyright MCMXX
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Four Little Blossoms and Their Winter Fun

Made in the United States of America

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
I THE FIRST SNOW-STORM II BOBBY IS RESCUED III AUNT
DOROTHY'S LOCKET IV WHEN THE BOBSLED UPSET V MEG
IN TROUBLE VI THE ORANGE AND THE BLACK VII A
BIRTHDAY PARTY VIII DOWN ON THE POND IX A NEW KIND
OF JAM X WORKING FOR THE FAIR XI BOBBY'S MEANEST
DAY XII BUILDING A SNOW MAN XIII THE TWINS HAVE A
SECRET XIV LOST IN THE STORM XV GREAT PREPARATIONS
XVI OVER THE CROSS ROAD XVII MR. MENDAM XVIII AT
LAST THE FAIR

FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AND THEIR WINTER FUN

CHAPTER I
THE FIRST SNOW-STORM
"Where's Mother?" Meg and Bobby Blossom demanded the moment
they opened the front door.
It was the first question they always asked when they came home from

school.
Twaddles, their little brother, looked up at them serenely from the sofa
cushion on which he sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the hall
stairs.
"Mother and Aunt Polly went uptown," he informed his brother and
sister. "They're going to bring us something nice. They promised."
Meg pulled off her hat and unbuttoned her coat.
"I'm starving," she announced. "It's awfully cold out. What are you
doing anyway, Twaddles?"
"Sliding down the banisters," answered Twaddles calmly. "See, we
spread down sofa cushions so 's we wouldn't hurt ourselves. It's Dot's
turn now. Hi, Dot!" he ended in a shout.
"Here I come--look out!" With a swish of pink gingham skirt a small,
plump little girl came flying down the banister to land luckily on a red
satin sofa cushion ready to receive her.
"Well, I must say," announced Meg with dignity, "that's a fine way to
do--using Mother's best sofa cushions! Where's Norah?"
"Gone to the movies," replied Dot, pushing the hair out of her eyes and
smiling sunnily. "She waited till she saw you turn the corner, 'cause she
said she wouldn't leave us alone."
Twaddles, who had been pressing his short nose against the glass in the
door panel hoping to see his mother coming with the promised gift,
suddenly wheeled and tried to stand on his head. That was Twaddles'
way of expressing delight. "It's snowing!" he cried. "Little fine
snowflakes, the kind that Daddy says always last. Oh, I hope we have
coasting. I'll bet it snows all night."
"You said that Thanksgiving," retorted Bobby gloomily, "and it just
snowed enough to cover the ground one night and melted 'fore we were

up the next morning. And here it is January, and it hasn't snowed
since."
"'Sides the sled is busted," agreed Twaddles mournfully, quite willing
to be melancholy if some one would show him the way. "Even if it did
snow, we couldn't have any fun without a sled."
"I guess we can mend it, maybe," interposed Meg cheerfully. "I'm
going out and get some bread and peanut butter. Who wants some?"
They all did, it seemed, even Dot and Twaddles, who were too young
to go to school, but who managed to have famous appetites as regularly
as the older children. Mother Blossom allowed them to have what
Norah called a "snack" every afternoon after school, and Meg was
always careful to see that they ate only the things permitted and that no
one dipped into the cake box.
"Look how white!" cried Dot, finishing her bread and butter first, and
kneeling on a kitchen chair to see out of the window. "The ground is all
covered already and you can see feetsteps."
"Footsteps," corrected Bobby, taking a last large bite of his lunch.
"Shoesteps," insisted Meg, closing the pantry door and putting away
the bread.
"That isn't a shoestep," argued Bobby, pointing to a particularly clear
and distinct print in the snow just outside the window.
"'Tis, too," scolded Meg. "That's where Sam