MEG IN TROUBLE
"I did mean to take it off," protested Meg, frantically digging in the
snow about the bobsled. "I went upstairs to put it in the box, and
then Norah called me about the cakes. Oh, dear, what will Mother say?"
The news soon spread among the others that little Meg Blossom had lost
her gold locket, and all the boys and girls turned to with a will to
help her search for it. They looked up the road a way, because some
thought the locket might have flown off before the sled upset; they
hunted over every inch of the ground where they had been spilled out,
for Dave was sure it must be there. But though they looked in possible
and impossible places, no sign of the dainty gold locket with the
turquoise forget-me-nots and the diamond dewdrops in their centers
could the children find.
"Half-past five," announced Dave presently. "Awfully sorry, Meg, but
your locket must be lost in the snow. It's too dark and too late to
hunt any more now. You run along home and don't worry; maybe you'll
get another one next Christmas."
"He doesn't know that this was great Aunt Dorothy's," said Meg sadly.
A very solemn little procession turned in at the Blossom front gate,
for Dot and Twaddles were depressed, too. Bobby was towing both sleds
and looked as sober as a judge.
"How late you are!" Aunt Polly, reading by the fireplace in the
living-room, called to them as she heard the front door open. "Your
mother began to worry about you. Is the coasting good?"
"Yes, I guess so," answered Bobby vaguely.
Twaddles sat down on the floor to pull off his rubber boots.
"Meg lost her locket!" he announced, seeing no reason why bad news
should be concealed, especially when he was not to blame for it.
Mother Blossom came downstairs just in time to hear this.
"Meg lost her locket!" she repeated. "Not great Aunt Dorothy's? Oh,
Meg, and I told you not to wear it out coasting!"
Poor Meg's tears came faster.
"I did mean to take it off," she sobbed. "An' then Norah called me and
the twins were in a hurry, and Bobby wanted his cap, and I forgot about
the locket. My darling little gold locket!"
Aunt Polly had come out into the hall, and now Father Blossom opened
the front door to find Mother Blossom sitting on the last stair-step,
Meg crying in her lap, and the rest of the family standing about with
serious faces.
"Hello, anything happened?" he asked anxiously. "Is Meg sick?"
"She lost her locket," answered Dot.
"Well, well, that's too bad," said Father Blossom sympathetically.
"Don't cry like that, Daughter. No locket is worth all those tears."
"Mother," confided Twaddles impartially, "is scolding her."
"Twaddles Blossom, march upstairs and get ready for supper," said
Mother Blossom, half sternly, half smilingly. "I'm not scolding Meg.
I want her to realize, though, that forgetting is a poor excuse, and
that no matter how sorry we are after something has happened it is too
late to do the right thing then."
"I'm so hungry," declared Dot, who couldn't bear to see Meg in trouble.
"Couldn't we eat pretty soon?"
Mother Blossom went upstairs with Meg and helped her bathe her eyes,
and at supper every one was careful not to mention the lost locket.
Meg wasn't scolded any more, but every time she saw the empty blue
velvet box in her bureau drawer she was reminded of her carelessness.
Aunt Polly said nothing at all, but Meg wondered if she was sorry she
had given it to such a heedless girl. Meg thought a good deal about
the many "oldest daughters" who had kept the locket safely for her.
"We'll go and look for it after school," Bobby promised the next day;
and though they did, they found no trace of it.
That night it snowed again, and Sam and Philip--Philip always assisted
at cleaning the walks--had their work to do over again.
"Sleigh bells!" exclaimed Bobby, as the children were in the hall
putting on their things for the walk to school. "Some one's calling."
He ran to look out of the dining-room window.
"Mother, it's the feed-store man," he shouted. "He's got a sleigh.
Can we go?"
Mother Blossom stepped to the door. The "feed-store man" was Mr.
Wright, and the four little Blossoms knew him very well.
"Morning!" They heard him greet Mother Blossom. "Nice winter weather
we're having. Anybody going to school this morning? I'm driving
around that way."
Meg and Bobby danced out on the front porch.
"Take us?" they cried excitedly. "We're all ready."
"Sure, I'll take you," was the hearty response. "Send Dot and Twaddles
along, too. I'm going to the station and back, and I'll drop you at
the school house and take them on with me. I'll have them back inside
an hour, Mrs. Blossom."
Mother Blossom said Dot and Twaddles could go, and in another minute
they were climbing into the sleigh, which was a low box wagon on
runners, drawn by two lively bay horses.
The twins sat down cozily in the straw that covered the floor on the
sleigh, but Bobby rode up on the seat with Mr. Wright, and Meg did,
too. She usually did everything Bobby did.
"Had any snowball fights yet?" asked Mr. Wright, his breath coming out
of his mouth like white smoke.
"No. We've been coasting," replied Bobby, "but we haven't had a
snowball fight. Miss Wright won't let you throw snowballs near the
school. She's afraid you'll break a window."
Miss Wright, the vice-principal of the Oak Hill primary school, was the
feed-store man's cousin.
"That so?" he asked interestedly. "Well, now, I'll have to speak to
Cousin Lelia. When I was a boy and went to school we had regular
snowball fights. Built forts, you know, and chose a captain for each
side and had real exciting times. You tell her you won't throw toward
the school, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if she let you build
forts in the school yard and have a good battle."
"The snow's fine there," said Meg, catching Mr. Wright's enthusiasm.
"It hasn't been touched since the first storm, only where the janitor
dug out the walks. I'd love to have a snowball fight."
"Girls don't snowball fight, do they?" Bobby was quite scandalized, and
appealed to Mr. Wright.
"Well, now, I don't believe they did when we were boys," admitted the
feed-store man slowly. "But times have changed, you know. I should
say that the side that lets girls have a place stands the best chance
of winning this snowball fight you're planning."
"Can we stay?" begged Twaddles and Dot, who had overheard.
"I should say not!" declared Bobby crushingly. Meg might win her
point, but he hoped he could still handle the twins. "You go straight
home. And you can tell Mother, if we don't come in early, that we're
having a snowball fight at school."
"You always have all the fun," grumbled Dot. "Why can't we stay a
little while?"
"They'll have to say lessons right up to recess time, before they can
even roll a snowball," Mr. Wright comforted the twins, driving the
sleigh up to the curb before the school-house yard. "You and I are
going to have a nice little ride while they're pegging away at their
books. How's that?"
Dot and Twaddles were cheered by this thought, and they were able to
see Meg and Bobby and the lunch-boxes go up the school walk without
another protest.
"You go and ask her now," suggested Meg, as she and Bobby went into the
hall. "Go on, Bobby. Ask her if we can have a fight right after
school."
Bobby stood a little in awe of Miss Wright, the vice-principal, but the
vision of snow forts, and perhaps himself as one of the captains,
decided him.
"All right, I will," he said recklessly. "You wait for me, Meg. It's
only quarter of."
Bobby hurried down the hall to the door marked "Office" and opened it.
Miss Wright was nowhere in sight. There was no one in the office, and
the clock ticked very loudly indeed.
"I'll wait a little," thought Bobby. "She has to come back to ring the
assembly bells."
He studied the complicated system of bells that sounded the signals in
each classroom for a minute, and suddenly the telephone rang shrilly.
It startled him, and he jumped. He looked about uneasily. The bell
kept ringing.
"I s'pose I'd better answer it," he said aloud, doubtfully.
"Hello!" he called, taking down the receiver.
"Hello," answered a strange voice. "Take this message, please. Miss
Wright has a severe cold and will not be in to-day. Have Miss Garrett
take charge of the assembly. That's all, thank you. Good-by."
Bobby blinked. Whoever had telephoned had spoken so quickly that he
had had no chance to say a word.