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[Illustration: "Come on," said Bobby, "we have to capture the ducks."
(Page 116)]
FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS
AT
BROOKSIDE FARM
BY
MABEL C. HAWLEY
AUTHOR OF "FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT OAK HILL SCHOOL," "FOUR LITTLE
BLOSSOMS AND THEIR WINTER FUN," ETC.
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Akron, Ohio--New York
Copyright MCMXX
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm
Made in the United States of America
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE RESCUE OF PHILIP 7
II AN INVITATION 18
III AUNT POLLY 26
IV THE WILLING PACKERS 36
V DOT'S ADVENTURE 45
VI BROOKSIDE AT LAST 56
VII THE WRECK OF THE RAFT 65
VIII LEARNING TO MILK 76
IX LOST IN THE WOODS 86
X THE BLOSSOMS GO BERRYING 94
XI THE HOME LAUNDRY 104
XII UP ON THE MOUNTAIN 114
XIII LINDA IS UNHAPPY 123
XIV THE PICNIC 132
XV WHAT MEG FOUND 141
XVI THE NEW CAT 153
XVII RAINY DAY FUN 163
XVIII THE END OF THE VACATION 173
FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT BROOKSIDE FARM
CHAPTER I
THE RESCUE OF PHILIP
"Meg!"
The little girl curled up in the window-seat did not move.
"Meg, you know Mother said we were to go before four o'clock, and it's
half-past three now. You'll wait till the twins come in, and then
they'll want to go, too." Bobby Blossom looked anxiously at his
sister.
Meg put down her book and untangled her feet from the window
cushions.
"I'm coming," she promised. "I never do get a chapter all read, Bobby.
Where's my hat? I see it. I'll get it!"
Meg's hat was on the lawn outside where she had dropped it, and now
she raised the screen and tumbled through the window to the ground.
It wasn't far to tumble, and Meg had done it so often she was sure of
landing safely.
"Norah says no lady goes out of the house through a window," giggled
Bobby, tumbling after Meg and closing the screen carefully. Bobby was
always careful to leave everything as he found it.
Meg giggled, too.
"I don't care, long as I grow up to be a lady like Mother," she
asserted. "Let's hurry, Bobby, and perhaps we can stop at the
library."
The children had reached the two stone posts at the foot of the lawn
when a loud shriek halted them.
"Meg Blossom, you said I could go! Wait for me!"
Down the slightly sloping lawn hurried a short, thick-set little girl
with dark eyes and hair and the reddest cheeks you ever saw. She
carried a doll whose blue eyes opened and shut snappily with every
jump her small mother took. This was Dot, Meg's little sister.
"You said I could go," panted Dot, when she caught up with Meg and
Bobby. "Wait for Twaddles, he's coming. He wants to take the kiddie
car."
"I told you so," scolded Bobby. "I never went uptown in my life all
you children didn't want to tag along. You've got grease on your
dress, Dot."
"Sam was cleaning the car," said Dot serenely. "I guess I brushed
against the grease can. It won't show when I'm sitting down. There's
Twaddles."
Bumping its way over the green grass came a kiddie car with a small
boy astride it.
"I'm all ready," he beamed. "Come on, Bobby."
"You can't take that kiddie car," announced Bobby firmly. "Mother said
this letter was to go in the four o'clock mail and we've got to hurry.
If you and Dot want to go, you'll have to walk fast."
Twaddles usually minded Bobby. He promptly surrendered the kiddie car
and continued to smile pleasantly.
The four Blossoms trudged briskly along. If you had ever lived in Oak
Hill you would have known them. The whole town knew Meg and Bobby and
Dot and Twaddles, and the children knew nearly every one, having lived
in that one place all their short lives.
Bobby was the oldest. He was seven, and was remarkably like his sister
Meg in looks. Both had fair hair and blue eyes. Meg's real name was
Margaret Alice Blossom, and she was named for her mother. Bobby's full
name was Robert Hayward Blossom. He was just a year older than Meg.
The twins were the funniest and dearest little couple, four years old
and as roly-poly, happy-go-lucky a pair of youngsters as ever tumbled
into one scrape after another and out again. They were known as Dot
and Twaddles to all their friends, but, of course, they had "real"
names like other children. Dot was named for an aunt, Dorothy Anna
Blossom, and Twaddles was Arthur Gifford Blossom, if you please. Only
no one ever called him that.
The Blossom children lived at the very tip end of the long straggling
street that divided Oak Hill into two sections; in fact the Blossoms'
rambling, comfortable old house was almost outside the town limits.
Father Blossom owned the big foundry on the other side of the
railroad.
"I'll go in," said Bobby, when they reached the post-office. "You wait
here."
He disappeared into the yellow wooden building that was the Oak Hill
post-office, and the other Blossoms, seeing a stalled car, stopped to
watch the troubles of the interurban motorman whose trolley-car was
blocked by a dog that apparently wanted to be run over.
The motorman clanged his bell and a boy on the curbstone whistled
shrilly, but the dog refused to budge. He only rolled over on his
side.
"He's hurt," said Meg. "See, his foot drags. I'll get him off."
She dashed out into the street and bent over the poor animal. Meg was
"just crazy," her brothers said, about animals, and she was never
afraid of any four-footed creature. Now, as she leaned over the little
dog, he began to lick her hand with his rough tongue.
"His leg's broken," Meg said pityingly to the conductor and the
motorman who had joined her. "Oh, the poor doggie! But Doctor Maynard
will fix it."
There was a crowd now gathered on the car tracks, and Bobby, who had
come out of the post-office and heard from the twins what was going
on, pushed his way through to his sister.
"You hold your dress," he directed. "I'll lift him. There!"
The little dog was a heavy armful for Meg, but she held him bravely.
"I'm afraid of strange dogs myself," declared the conductor, plainly
relieved that some one else had tended to the dog. "What are you going
to do with him, little girl?"
"Take him to the doctor's," announced Meg. "Aren't we, Bobby?"
"Of course," affirmed Bobby.
He and Meg, carrying the dog, went back to where Twaddles and Dot were
waiting. The twins were used to waiting patiently while the older
children investigated sudden alarms and excitements.
"Let me pat him," begged Dot. "He's pretty, isn't he? Is he hurt,
Meg? What are you going to do with him?"
"Take him to Doctor Maynard's," said Meg briefly. "I guess he's in,
'cause it's after four o'clock."
Kind, jolly Doctor Maynard was in. He was the Blossoms' family doctor,
and knew the children very well. He didn't seem a bit surprised to
have the four of them walk into his consulting room.
"Now, who's sick?" he demanded, pretending to be anxious. "Don't tell
me Dot needs gingerbread pills? Or has Twaddles been eating too much
layer cake? Dear, dear, you can't all have the whooping cough!"
Meg smiled, a little watery smile. Tears stood in her blue eyes.
"It's this," she said, spreading out her dress on the couch so that
the doctor could see the dog. "I think his leg is broken."
Doctor Maynard sat down on the couch and the children crowded around
him. The brown eyes of the dog watched him intently as though he knew
that help was at hand.
"Yes, it's broken," said the doctor gently, after feeling of the slim
little hind leg that dragged so uselessly. "But we can mend it, Meg. I
have splints right here."
While the others watched, Doctor Maynard tore off long white strips of
cloth and selected two wooden splints. These he placed one on each
side of the broken leg and then directed Meg to wind the strips firmly
around while he held the splints in place. This was to make the leg
grow strong and straight again.
"Doesn't it hurt?" demanded Twaddles curiously.
"Yes, it hurts him," admitted Doctor Maynard, stroking the head of the
little dog. "But animals are splendid patients, and they seldom
complain. Now, then, our little friend is about as good as new, except
that he will have to go on three legs for a bit."
The telephone rang just then and it proved to be a call for the
doctor.
"I'll have to run along, chicks," he said hurriedly. "Going to keep
the dog, Meg?"
"If Mother doesn't care," answered Meg.
"Mother won't care," said Bobby, as the children were walking home. He
was very fond of his sister and tried to help her get whatever she
wanted. "Sam will let him sleep in the garage and perhaps he will be a
ratter. Sam likes a dog that is a ratter." Sam Layton was the man of
all work employed by Mr. Blossom.
Meg and Bobby took turns carrying the dog home, and Twaddles mourned
the fact that the kiddie car had not been brought along.
"I could have given him a ride," he explained. "What makes his tongue
hang out like that, Meg?"
"He's hot," said Meg. "And I think he wants a drink. Let's take him
around to the kitchen and give him some water."
As they neared the kitchen door some one spoke to them through the
screen.
"Meg! Meg! What's this you do be bringing home with ye? A dog? Most
likely it has the mange now, or some disease ye will all be catching.
Why can't ye ever take up with a nice, quiet cat? 'Tis no dog I'll be
having in me clean kitchen, mind that!"
Meg put the strange dog down on the gravel path. He swayed unsteadily
on three legs.
"Look, Norah," she said. "His leg is broken. Doctor Maynard set it.
And we only want to get him a drink of water. He's thirsty. He needn't
even come into the house."
Norah had a sharp tongue, but her heart was generous and sweet.
"The poor beastie!" she said, opening the screen door of her jealously
guarded kitchen. "Bring him in, Meg. He do be having fever, I suspect.
I'll get him a cup of water. Dear, dear!"
Making a soft, sympathetic, clucking noise, Norah hurried to get a cup
of cool water which the little dog lapped up greedily, standing on his
three good legs.
"Bobby said he thought Sam would let him sleep in the garage," said
Meg. "I suppose it is cooler there for him. All right, Norah, I'll
carry him out. But we want to show him to Mother."
"She went to meet your father--she and Sam with the car," Norah told
them. "And if I don't get my biscuits in, they'll be back before
there's a thing cooked to eat."
The children took the hint and hurried to the garage. Bobby and
Twaddles spread an old mat for the dog in a cool, dark corner, and
very glad he seemed to be to have a place to lie down.
"We'll bring you some supper," Meg promised, patting him kindly. "You
take a nap and forget 'bout your troubles."
"There's the car round front!" shouted Twaddles. "Bet you I see Daddy
first."
"Bet you don't!" shrieked Dot.
With wild whoops the children tore round to the front of the house and
fell upon Father and Mother Blossom just getting out of the car.
"We brought a dog home," cried Bobby.
"Come out and see him," urged Meg, clinging to her Mother's hand.
"He's a dear little dog, and I love him already."