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She was sorry he had broken his leg, but in the same breath, almost, she told him of such a narrow escape that Freddie had last week, when an auto nearly ran him down. Andy regretted keenly that it had not.
Her yellow hair blew in the gentle June breeze, making sort of a golden light about her head. "Freddie! Freddie!" she cried. "I can't find 'em! I can't find the book straps anywhere!" "Why, I put 'em I put 'em " said Freddie helplessly, trying to remember where he had put them, when he came in from school the day before. "You've got to come and help me hunt for 'em!" Flossie went on.
I can hear the fire engines!" "Oh, Freddie! you're walking in your sleep again," said his mother as she sat up, now quite awake "You have been dreaming, and you're walking in your sleep!" Freddie had done this once or twice before, thought not since he had come to Washington.
Nan was as fond of Snap as was Bert himself, though perhaps the smaller twins, Flossie and Freddie cared more for Snoop, the black cat. But of course they loved Snap very much. Poor Bert did not know what to do. Just then his father came running into the car. "Did Snap get away?" cried Mr. Bobbsey.
The middle of the stick was covered with pine needles, and the lower end stuck out beyond the needles and dried leaves close to where Freddie stood. When the little boy took a step his foot touched the thin end of the branch, and made the thick end, near Flossie, move. Flossie took this for the swaying of a snake's head, and so she had screamed in fright.
I looked up with a nod of greeting, while he sat and eyed me impatiently for some seconds. "Aren't you coming with me down to Southampton?" he asked finally. "What time do you leave?" I inquired, without looking up. "Eleven-thirty." "What's on?" "Freddie Marston's Crocodiles and the Blues. It's going to be some polo." I considered a moment. "Why, I guess I'll run down with you.
Freddie did not know he was the "youngster" meant, and stood where he was. "Get back there!" cried the voice again. "You may be hurt!" But Freddie was busy watching the fire. He wished he had brought his own little engine with him. "I could squirt water on some of the little sparks, anyhow," he said to himself. "I guess I'll go back and get it, and find Laddie and his aunt."
"Is our dog Snap chasing you, or have you been playing a trick on our cat Snoop?" "I I I'm a a fireman!" panted Freddie. for he, too, was out of breath from running. "I'm a fireman, and I I've got to get the engine. There's a big, big fire!" and his eyes opened wide and round. "A big fire really?" asked Nan quickly. "Course not! He's only making believe!" replied Bert.
"Can't we play an eating game?" "I think so," said Bert. "Dinah and Martha were starting to bake cookies before we came out to the barn, and they ought to be done now. Let's go in." Into the house, through the rain, tramped the children, and soon, eating cookies, they were telling about Freddie going to sleep in the hay, and Tom trying to make an omelet of himself in the hen's nest.
Then she cut curious-looking holes in the folded piece with a sharp pair of scissors. When the paper was unfolded once more a truly beautiful pattern appeared. "Oh, how lubby!" screamed Flossie. "Make me one, Nan!" "And me, too," put in Freddie. "I want a real red one," and he brought forth a bit of red pin-wheel paper he had been saving.
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