The Blossoms, Father and Mother Blossom and the four children, lived in a town called Oak Hill, where Father Blossom owned a large foundry at one end of the town.  Meg and Bobby, of course, went to school.  You may have read the book before this one, called “Four Little Blossoms at Oak Hill School,” which tells about the troubles Bobby encountered and how he came safely through them, and of how the twins were so eager to go to school that they finally did in spite of the fact that they were only four years old.  If you read that book you will remember that Aunt Polly came down to visit Mother Blossom over Thanksgiving and went to the school exercises to hear Meg and Bobby recite.  She stayed for Christmas, too.  And finally, because every one loved her very much and because she had no little people of her own at Brookside, she yielded to the persuasion of Father and Mother Blossom and promised to spend the rest of the winter in Oak Hill.

Besides Norah, there lived with the Blossoms Sam Layton, who ran Father Blossom’s car and did all the outside work about the place; Philip, a very intelligent and amiable dog, and Annabel Lee, an affectionate and much beloved cat.  Dear me, Twaddles had some rabbits, too.  He would want you to know those.  And now that you are properly introduced, let us go and see what happened to Bobby.

Meg fell down every one of the front steps in her anxiety to reach her brother, and Norah alone saved the twins from a like fall.  They tumbled into her and the three held each other up.  At least that is the way Twaddles explained it.

“Bobby!  Oh, Bobby, are you dead?” wailed Meg, looking, for some inexplicable reason, toward the porch roof.  Of course Bobby couldn’t be up there when he had fallen off.

“Of course I’m not dead,” the indignant voice of Bobby assured her.  “I’m all right, not hurt a bit.  But I’m stuck in this old bush.”

He had had the good fortune, for he might have been seriously hurt if he had struck the ground, to tumble into a large bush planted a short distance from the porch.  This bush had not been trimmed for years, and new shoots had grown up and mingled with the old branches until it was very tough and tangled and strong.  Plunged in the middle of this sturdy old friend, was Bobby.

“Why don’t ye come out?” demanded Norah, relieved to find that he was not hurt.  “I left the teakettle boiling over to come and see if ye were killed.”

“I can’t get out,” said Bobby, struggling.  “Lend us a hand, can’t you, Twaddles?”

Bobby had fallen with enough force to wedge himself tightly into the heart of the bush, and indeed it was no easy matter to dislodge him.  Norah took one hand and Meg the other, and they tugged and pulled till Norah was afraid they might pull him out in pieces.

“Where’s Sam?” panted Meg.  “He could bend down some of the branches.”

“Sam,” said Norah, “has gone to meet your father with the car.”