Page:Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm.djvu/109

Rh "I wish I had my book that was drowned," mourned Meg. "I love to sit up in a tree and read."

"Well, I loved Geraldine better than Tottie-Fay," said Dot, giving the old doll a shake as she spoke.

"No use fussing," advised the sensible Bobby. "They're lost, and we mustn't let Aunt Polly hear us, 'cause she'll think she ought to go right off and buy us some more. I'm going to climb this tree. Who wants a ripe apple?"

"I do," and Meg jumped up. "Let me hold my apron and you throw 'em down, Bobby. Twaddles, stop teasing Spotty."

"I aren't teasing him," declared Twaddles indignantly. "I'm going to teach him to carry bundles."

Twaddles' method of teaching the patient Spotty was to sit down on him with feet spread wide apart and wait for the dog to shake him off.

Dot sat down quietly in the grass and began to make a bouquet of wild-flowers. It was Dot who always helped Aunt Polly weed and water