Page:Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm.djvu/87

 turned so quickly that one foot slipped. Meg and Bobby saw him tumble into the brook with a loud splash.

It wasn't very deep, but it was very wet, and though Bobby reached him in a second, poor Twaddles was frightened.

"I'm so co-old!" he wept loudly. "I want Mother!"

"Well, don't stand here all day," said Bobby practically. "Take hold of Meg's hand, and we'll run to the house. Linda was making soup this morning, Twaddles. Think how good nice, hot soup will taste!"

Meg took his hand, and, Bobby on the other side, Twaddles ran with all his might toward dry clothes and hot soup. It was raining hard again.

"Why, children!" Aunt Polly met them at the door, for she had long ago come back from taking Mother Blossom to town. "Has anything happened? I found Dot in the hammock crying for her doll and But Twaddles is dripping!"