BOBBY HAS A PLAN
Twaddles was the first to speak. The plunge had been so unexpected
and there had been so little warning, none at all, in fact, that
if any one had been inclined to scream there was no opportunity.
They were all breathless and rather shaken up. But Twaddles, who
had thrown his arms around Bobby's neck, managed to grin.
"Well, what do you know about that!" he ejaculated in his funny,
serious little voice.
That made them all laugh, and then Father Blossom began to ask
anxiously if any one was hurt.
"No one, thank goodness," Mother Blossom assured him, opening the
tonneau door so that Meg and Dot might step out. "You haven't cut
your hand, Ralph?"
"Just a scratch," answered Father Blossom carelessly. "I bore down
pretty hard on the wheel rim. Well, I'm thankful we didn't turn
over. What do you suppose was the reason for this running jump?"
The four little Blossoms were out on the ground now, picking their
way carefully, for they were surrounded by clumps of prickly
bushes. Mother Blossom joined Father Blossom, who was anxiously
inspecting the car.
"It's wedged in so tightly I'll never be able to back it out," he
said. "Only see, Margaret, how neatly it has slipped in between
these three saplings. If I had tried that stunt I couldn't have
made it once in fifty chances."
Meg and Dot and Twaddles and Bobby crowded closer to look. Perhaps
this is a good time to tell you who the four little Blossoms were,
if you have never met them before.
You have guessed, of course, that they had other and longer names.
Meg was named for her mother, Margaret; Bobby was Robert Hayward
Blossom on the school roll; the twins (they were four years old)
were Dorothy Anna and Arthur Gifford Blossom, but no one ever
thought of calling the roly-poly dark-eyed pair anything but Dot
and Twaddles.
If you have read the first book of this series, "Four Little
Blossoms at Brookside Farm," you know that Father Blossom owned a
large foundry on the edge of the pretty town of Oak Hill and that
he and his family lived in a comfortable old-fashioned house with
Norah, who had been with them for years, and Sam Layton, the
good-natured man of all work, to help make things run smoothly. You
will remember that Brookside Farm was the name of Aunt Polly's
home, Aunt Polly being the older sister of Mother Blossom. The
Four Little Blossoms spent a delightful summer at Brookside and
came home just in time for Meg and Bobby to enter Oak Hill school.
What they did that first winter in school and how the twins tried
their best to do exactly as Meg and Bobby did, and usually
succeeded, is told in the book called "Four Little Blossoms at Oak
Hill School." They found school most exciting and it did seem as
though there was something to be done every minute of the short
winter days, but, dear me, when the heavy snowfalls began you
should have seen the children! They coasted, and they skated, and
Meg lost her beautiful turquoise locket. But she found it, so you
need not be sorry. The whole story of that locket is told in the
third book of the series, called "Four Little Blossoms and Their
Winter Fun." Meg and Bobby were lost in a snowstorm, too, and for
a time things looked very serious for them, but that adventure
also had a happy ending.
And now we find the four little Blossoms, early in April, just as
glad to see the beautiful, shining green Spring as they had been
to see the first Winter snow. Sam Layton had gone away to Canada
to work on a farm soon after the weather grew pleasant, and the
four little Blossoms missed him very much. They suspected that
Norah missed him, too, though she said nothing. The children had
all promised to write to Sam, and Norah wrote every week.
This was the reason Father Blossom was driving the new car. As he
said, Sam was such an excellent driver there had really been no
need for him to drive; but with Sam away, if Father Blossom wanted
to reach his foundry on time every morning there was nothing for
him to do but to learn to drive the car himself.
"I'll go and see if I can persuade some farmer to come and pull us
out," he said to Mother Blossom, when he had tried without results
to back the car from the mass of bushes and saplings into which it
had driven. "You stay right here with Mother, children, and I'll
be back in fifteen or twenty minutes."
Twaddles wanted to go with his father, but when it was explained
to him that his mother and the girls needed his protection and
that of Bobby, he was quite willing to wait quietly in the bushes.
That is, as quietly as Twaddles ever waited anywhere.
"Perhaps we can find flowers," Meg suggested, as Father Blossom
disappeared, whistling. "Brush some of these leaves away, Dot, and
let's see what grows underneath."
"Oh, dear!" came with a big sigh from Dot, and they turned to see
her caught by a bush whose sharp spikes went right through her
firm serge frock and bloomers and held her fast.
"I'll get you," offered Twaddles gallantly, and he tried to
scramble over the intervening bushes, fortunately all low.
But though low, they were tightly woven, for no underbrush had
been cut from this section of the woods for years. In a moment
Twaddles was pinned as tightly as Dot, a narrow, string-like coil
of vine wrapping securely round his ankles and a sharp stake
thrusting itself slantwise through the sleeve of his sweater.
"Don't wriggle," implored Mother Blossom, as she and Meg and Bobby
came cautiously to the rescue. "I do want these clothes to last
you till it is time to buy Summer ones. Hold still, Dot. There!
Now come and sit in the car and I'll tell you a story till Daddy
comes back."
Bobby had managed to free Twaddles, and the four little Blossoms
climbed into the car and really sat very still--for them--while
Mother Blossom began the story of what she did when she was a
little girl and went away to boarding school for the first time.
The children loved "true" stories, and they listened intently till
Dot spied her father coming down the crooked little path and set
up a shout.
Father Blossom had found a farmer who lived near, and had arranged
with him to bring two strong horses and a heavy rope and see if he
could pull the car from the underbrush. The farmer was a tall,
silent man who seemed not to hear the excited questions of the
four little Blossoms, and never even spoke to Mother Blossom
beyond a quick jerk at his cap when he first saw her sitting in
the car.
But, although the farmer, whose name was Ellis, was "no talker"
(he himself said so), he was a quick worker, and in less than ten
minutes he had rigged up the rope to the car, fastened it to the
collars of his horses, and in another five minutes the car was out
in the road and clear of the bushes and saplings.
"Only scratched a mite," commented the farmer, pocketing the bill
Father Blossom gave him to pay for his time and trouble. "Lucky
not to have to have the whole thing scraped and re-varnished."
The Blossoms were home in time for supper, and of course Norah had
to hear about the drive. Bobby did not have much to say, for he
was busy thinking out a little plan that, he privately decided,
could best be tried out at school. Bobby's experience had been
that Twaddles and Dot always wanted a finger in his plans and that
too many fingers are as bad as too many cooks. And any one will
tell you that too many cooks are worse than none.
"Can I take my automobile to school this morning?" Bobby asked at
the breakfast table the day after the drive in the new car.
Bobby was very proud of his automobile that worked with pedals
like a tricycle but looked exactly like a miniature automobile,
even to the red paint and the lamps and the tin license tacked on
the back axle.
"If you won't let it interfere with your school work, I suppose
you may," conceded Mother Blossom. "Is there a place where you can
keep it during school hours?"
"I can keep it down under the first floor stairs," said Bobby
eagerly. "And I won't play with it only before school and at
recess, Mother, honest."
So he was allowed to take the car, and he went early in order to
have time for play before the nine o'clock bell. Meg hung on
behind him and the twins watched them out of sight enviously.
There was nothing in the world the twins desired so ardently as to
go to school. They had been promised that they might start in the
kindergarten the next term and they were already looking forward
to that time.
"I want to play a new way," Bobby was explaining to Meg as he
pedaled furiously. "You'll see--I thought it up all myself last
night."
A crowd of boys swept forward to greet Bobby when he entered the
school yard. Most of them had seen his car before--it had been a
birthday present in February--but to several it was new and all
admired it and wished for one exactly like it.
"Can't have any fun with it here," said Tim Roon, rather
contemptuously.
Tim was apt to speak of the dark side of everything, and he had
very good luck in finding a dark side to draw attention to.
"Yes, I can," insisted Bobby. "You'll see."
He went through the school yard, down to the end where an
old-fashioned picket fence shut off the playground from a vacant lot
that later would be divided off into the school gardens, a plot
for each grade.
"What you going to do?" asked Tim Roon curiously.
The other children looked mystified, including Meg. She, too,
wondered what Bobby could be planning to do.
"You'll see." Bobby repeated his favorite phrase.
From his blouse he drew a hammer, borrowed from the tool bench in
the Blossom garage, and, awkwardly, for he was not used to the
work, inserted it under the end of a picket. There was a ripping,
grating noise, and the picket parted from the cross-piece.
"Bobby Blossom!" cried Meg. "What in the world are you going to
do?"