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Updated: June 17, 2025
Run away and find something pleasant to do till I finish this letter, and then we'll toast marshmallows over the fire." Twaddles set out to amuse himself. He wished he had Philip to play with, but the dog was out in the garage and Twaddles had been forbidden to make the journey through the snow in his sandals.
Aunt Polly, coming into the room in search of her pet thimble, discovered the disconsolate Dot huddled on the sofa, and Twaddles standing by her suggesting one amusement after the other. "Never mind, honey," comforted Aunt Polly, sitting down on the sofa and cuddling Dot into her lap. "I know something you haven't done and that will be heaps of fun."
"Mother, I begin to think an island is the only place for a family such as ours. There's one thing I don't suppose occurred to you, Bobby." "What, Daddy?" asked Bobby seriously. "That Twaddles might have taken off his oil-soaked suit," replied Father Blossom, going to the rescue of the lonely and hungry little fellow. Meg and Bobby and Dot looked at each other.
You eat all you want I never want to taste one of those apples again!" Twaddles stopped trying to tickle Bobby, and Meg squeezed Dot's hand excitedly. Poor Mr. Harley! "Then then you haven't heard about your little boys?" asked Bobby hesitatingly. "Not a word," groaned Mr. Harley. "It's as though the earth had opened and swallowed 'em.
You couldn't expect a fire engine to come out under those wooden steps and turn around to go to the fire. Meg and Bobby carried the sled up the stairs and Twaddles carried the glove.
"He can't drown in that water. It isn't deep," said a man, skating past them and stopping to, reassure Meg. "Come on, youngster, you and I can get him out." Bobby put his hand into that of the stranger and was pulled along rapidly toward the spot where the howling Twaddles stood in icy water up to his knees. As the man said, there was no danger that Twaddles would be drowned.
Miss Mason gave him his grasshopper and advised him not to play tricks on his sister again. "I won't," promised Twaddles earnestly, "at least, not pocket ones." Down in the hall, on their way out, Twaddles and Dot met Mr. Carter, who also remembered them from their earlier visit. He shook hands with them and very naturally asked them what brought them to school.
They all did, it seemed, even Dot and Twaddles, who were too young to go to school, but who managed to have famous appetites as regularly as the older children. Mother Blossom allowed them to have what Norah called a "snack" every afternoon after school, and Meg was always careful to see that they ate only the things permitted and that no one dipped into the cake box.
"She isn't too young," cried Twaddles, who always disliked any allusion to age; he and Dot wanted to be thought just as old as Bobby and Meg. "Hi, Meg, listen! I'm telling you " Twaddles twisted around to catch Meg's attention and fell over into a snow drift that lined the edge of the walk. When he had been fished out and brushed off, he had forgotten what he had meant to tell.
Anyway, with a sudden lurch and a bound the car plunged directly into a heavy screen of brushwood that bordered one side of the road! Twaddles was the first to speak. The plunge had been so unexpected and there had been so little warning, none at all, in fact, that if any one had been inclined to scream there was no opportunity. They were all breathless and rather shaken up.
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