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Updated: May 23, 2025
The other Bobbsey twins knew nothing of what had happened until morning, when they were told of Freddie's little accident. "And did I really fall out of bed?" asked Freddie, himself as much surprised as any one. "You certainly did!" laughed his mother. "At first I was startled, being aroused so suddenly, but I saw that you were still sleeping and I knew you couldn't be hurt very much."
"He isn't any fatter than you'll be if you keep on eating so much," remarked Bert. "Oh, I don't eat any more than I have to," declared the little boy. "When you are really and truly hungry you can't help eating. Nobody can!" "And you're hungry most all the time," said Bert. "I'm not at all! I'm hungry only when when I'm hungry," was Freddie's reply.
Previous to his visit she had arranged a meeting with Freddie's fiancee, with the view of opening negotiations for the sale of the letters. She had held him, Jones, at arm's length because she was going to sell the letters to whoever would pay the best price.
I don't care where you found it," and Danny was about to turn away. "Wait a minute," said Bert. "Suppose I say that this button was found in our freezer of ice cream, that you and some other boys took off our stoop the night of Flossie's and Freddie's party, Danny? What about that?"
"It's only clean water. Come here and I'll wipe it off with my handkerchief. I'd come to you, only I'm so stout it's hard enough for me to walk anyhow, and when the train is moving I simply can't do it." Freddie and Flossie went to her seat, and with a handkerchief, that Flossie said afterward was almost as big as a table cloth, the fat lady wiped the water off Freddie's coat.
"Only to have a race you have to let your balloon sail off, without any string fast to it, and you will not get it back again." At first Freddie would not hear of that, but finally he and Flossie became tired of the toy circus balloons, and came to Bert to beg him to make a race for them. Bert cut the string off both balloons. Freddie's was red and Flossie's blue.
"Am it all done, honey lamb?" she asked, looking at Freddie. "Yes, Dinah! It's all done squirtin'," he said. "I guess there isn't any more water, anyhow." "No," said Mr. Bobbsey, with a smile, as he looked in the tank of the engine, "it's all pumped out." Freddie's toy fire engine was a large and expensive one his uncle had given him on Christmas.
Kirkwood?" she opened briskly, with a second intimate and friendly nod; and paused, her pose receptive. Kirkwood sat down again, smiling good-natured appreciation of her unprejudiced attitude. "Your son, Mrs. Hallam ?" "Oh, Freddie's doing well enough.... Freddie," she explained, "has a delicate constitution and has seen little of the world.
She is mad about acting, and there's nothing I like better." "Also, you simply have to have occupation." She nodded. "I wasn't brought up to fit me for an idler. When I was a child I was taught to keep busy not at nothing, but at something. Freddie's a lot better at it than I." "Naturally," said Brent. "You had a home, with order and a system an old-fashioned American home. He well, he hadn't."
"That's right try and make other people happy, little man," said Mr. Carford, patting Freddie's head. The big sled with the horses and their jingling bells was soon at the door. Miss Carford had warmed some bricks to put down in the straw, to keep the children's feet warm, and soon, cozily wrapped up, they were on their way home.
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