Four Little Blossoms and Their Winter Fun | Page 6

Meg bluntly, giving the
rope such a sudden pull that Dot nearly went over backward.
"She isn't too young," cried Twaddles, who always disliked any
allusion to age; he and Dot wanted to be thought just as old as Bobby
and Meg. "Hi, Meg, listen! I'm telling you----"

Twaddles twisted around to catch Meg's attention and fell over into a
snow drift that lined the edge of the walk. When he had been fished out
and brushed off, he had forgotten what he had meant to tell.
Sunday it snowed more, and a high wind whirled the flakes about till
the older folk shook their heads and began to talk about a blizzard.
However, by Monday morning the wind had died down and the snow
had stopped, though the sun refused to shine.
"Sam says it's awful cold," said Norah, bringing in the hot cakes for
breakfast. "He's got the walks cleaned off, but maybe the children
shouldn't go to school."
"Nonsense!" said Mother Blossom briskly. "Meg and Bobby both have
rubber boots and warm mittens and coats. A little cold won't hurt
them."
"And sledding after school, Mother?" urged Twaddles. "Dot and I have
rubber boots, too."
"And in summer we can't go coasting," said the practical Dot.
"That's so, you can't," laughed Father Blossom, kissing her as he
hurried out to the waiting car to go to his office. "Waiting for warm
weather for coasting is a pretty poor way to spend one's time."
Meg wore her locket to school, and long before the noon hour every
girl had heard about great-great Aunt Dorothy, had tried on the locket,
and had wished she had one exactly like it.
"Wouldn't it be awful if you lost it!" said Hester Scott. "Then your little
girl never could have a locket."
"But I'm not going to lose it," insisted Meg. "Mother says I have to take
it off as soon as I come home from school. Then I'll wear it Sundays
and birthdays and when we have company."
Many of the children had brought their lunch, and Meg and Bobby had

theirs with them. Mother Blossom thought they should be saved the
walk home at noon when the deep snow made walking difficult. The
afternoon period rather dragged, though Miss Mason, the teacher, read
them stories about the frozen North and their geography lesson was all
about the home of the polar bear.
"My, I was tired of listening," confided Bobby, hurrying home with
Meg at half-past three. "What do we care what polar bears do when
we've got snow all ready to use ourselves?"
"Feels like more, doesn't it?" said the scarlet-cheeked Meg, trotting
along in her rubber boots, her blue eyes shining with anticipated fun.
"Can't I steer good now, Bobby?"
"'Deed you can," returned Bobby. "You steer better than most girls.
There the twins are out with the sleds."
Dot and Twaddles, rubber-booted and snugly tied into mufflers and
coats, greeted the arrival of the other two with a shout.
"Sam says it will snow more to-night," reported Twaddles gleefully.
"Maybe it will be as high as the house, Bobby."
"And maybe it won't," said Bobby practically. "Where's Mother?"
Meg and Bobby went into the house to leave their lunch boxes and tell
Mother Blossom they were at home.
"Be sure and take off the locket, Meg," called her mother, as Meg went
up to her room to get a clean handkerchief.
"Meg!" shouted Bobby, "where's my bearskin cap?"
This cap was an old one Father Blossom had worn on hunting trips
when a young man. It was several sizes too large for Bobby, and made
him look like a British Grenadier, but he thought it was the finest cap in
the world. He liked to wear it when playing in the snow because it was
warm.

"It's in the blue box on your closet shelf," answered Meg. She was an
orderly little sister, and the boys counted on her help to remind them
where they had left their things.
"Meg!" This time the call came from Norah, who was putting away
clean sheets in the linen closet. "Down on the kitchen table I left four
drop cakes--one apiece for ye. Your mother said 'twas all right."
"Meg! Bobby! Hurry up!" shrieked the twins.
Bobby crammed his cap on his head and dashed down the front stairs.
Meg seized her clean handkerchief, ran to the kitchen and got the cakes
and went out by way of the back door.
"Thought you were never coming," grumbled Twaddles. "Cake, Meg?"
"One for you. One for Dot," said Meg dividing, and giving Bobby his.
"Now aren't you sorry you were cross?"
"He wasn't," Dot assured her; the twins had a way of standing up for
each other. "He was just afraid the others would