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.”