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"Yes, the roses and everything," her mother told her. "If I were a big, grown-up fireman, I could climb down and get Flossie's hat," said Freddie. "That's what firemans do. They climb up and down big places and get things and people," the little boy added after a moment of thought. "Well, I don't want my little fireman climbing down Washington Monument," said Mr. Bobbsey.
Chuu!" and he puffed out his cheeks, making a noise like an engine. "You must come here!" insisted Bert, making a spring toward his little brother. "I can't come back! Firemans never come back!" half screamed Freddie. "I'm going to squirt water on the bad gobble-obble bird that's biting my Snoop!"
"And I saw the firemans, I did, but they didn't have any engines, and I I I saw " But Freddie was too much out of breath from running to meet his father to tell any more just then. It was indeed Mr. Bobbsey who had come along just then.
"But it's been a good many years since I have seen him." "Yes, it has been a good many years," said Mr. Hickson, in rather a sad voice. "And they haven't been altogether happy years for me, either; I can tell you that, Dick." "I'm sorry to hear you say so," replied Mr. Bobbsey. "Were you in lots of railroad wrecks, and did the firemans have to come and get you out?" asked Freddie.
Toot!" came a sudden cry and little Freddie came running toward the gobbler and cat, dragging after him his much-prized toy fire engine. "Get back out of the way, Freddie!" ordered Bert. "Snoop may scratch or bite you, or the gobbler may pick you. Get out of the way!" "I'm a fireman!" cried the fat little fellow. "Firemans never get out of the way! Toot! Toot! Clear the track! Chuu! Chuu!
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