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Updated: May 7, 2025
"We'd rather you did it," Bobby answered politely. "I can write, but some folks can't read it." Mr. Mendam wrote busily on a sheet of paper and then read aloud what he had written. "Found a sled on the Hill Road," he read. "Finder may have same by describing and making application at the post-office window."
Do you want me to come and buy things? Tell me where it is and I'll come and bring my daughter." But when Meg rather shyly said the fair was to be given in Oak Hill and not for a week or two, Mr. Mendam shook his head. "I'll be away then," he explained. "My daughter and I are going to Montreal for the winter sports. But why don't you let me give you the ten dollars for the fair?
"We just found the glove lying in the snow Twaddles found it." "But I'd like to do something for you," the stout old gentleman insisted. "If you won't take a real reward and I had intended offering ten dollars for the return of the glove tell me something I can do for you." "There's the fair," whispered Meg, but Mr. Mendam heard her. "Fair?" he said briskly. "What fair? Where?
That will be just the same as though I had come there and bought that much." Meg looked uncertainly at Bobby. "Maybe Mother won't like it," she said. But Bobby was sure she wouldn't care and when he told Mr. Mendam about Paul Jordan and his mother and that the fair was for them, Mr. Mendam, too, was sure Mother Blossom wouldn't mind.
"There we'll paste that up and the child who is short one sled may see it and get it back," said Mr. Mendam and he pasted the slip of paper on the bulletin board which hung over the desk where he had been writing. "I'm pretty lucky to get my glove back, eh, Carter?" he said to the clerk.
Mendam wandered off before they had all quite finished and when he came back, he had a pile of small boxes under his arm. "Something to eat on the way home," he said, handing a box to each child. "Candy!" cried Twaddles blissfully. "It's just like Christmas!" Sam had tied the sleigh in front of the drug store and when they came out, Mr.
"We're late now," said the long-suffering Sam. "What do you want to ask Mr. Mendam, Dot? Hurry up." Mr. Mendam was still standing on the curb and Dot leaned out of the sleigh to call to him. "I wish I could know who the sled belongs to," she said earnestly. "If a little girl owns it, will you let me know? Or a little boy please?" "I'll write you and tell you," Mr. Mendam promised.
"It is, of course it is," Mr. Mendam replied, taking the glove from Twaddles and looking at it closely. "Where did you find it? Good gracious, I never was so pleased never!" They explained to him where they had found the glove and the stout old gentleman said it was one of a pair his daughter had just given him for his birthday.
"This sled," Bobby answered, while the stout old gentleman who was writing at the desk against the wall, looked up. "And a glove," chimed in Twaddles and Dot importantly. "Good gracious!" the stout old gentleman exclaimed and the clerk leaned closer to the window and shouted. "Did you hear that, Mr. Mendam?" he called. "They found a glove maybe it is the one you lost."
Instead of one ten dollar bill, there were two, and Father Blossom said it would pay almost two months rent for Mrs. Jordan. Mother Blossom was quite willing for them to keep the money since it was not for themselves and she promised to write Mr. Mendam a note of thanks.
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