"MabelCHawley-FourLittleBlossomsOnAppleTreeIsland" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawley Mabel C)

Miss Mason had at first refused to use any nicknames in her class and she had
insisted on calling Bobby and Meg by their true names, "Robert" and "Margaret."
As for Twaddles and Dot, the teacher had declared that never, never, could she
consent to calling children by such "queer" names. But, after a while, she had
grown used to the queer names and, like every one else in Oak Hill, forgot that
the four little Blossoms had any others.
Dot sensibly thought that Twaddle should make his own explanation, and that
small boy did, rather shamefacedly. 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.
"Meg and Bobby went home at least half an hour ago," he said kindly.
"We came for my grasshopper," explained Twaddles, and that brought out the whole
story.
"Dot," remarked Twaddles thoughtfully when they were walking home, "it wouldn't
be so bad being bad if you didn't have to tell about it, would it?"
Dot understood at once.
"NЧo," she drawled slowly. "But we'd feel worse if we never did tell."
Twaddles was so glad to get his grasshopper back that he made it hop all the way
home. And at home the twins found Miss Florence, the Oak Hill dressmaker,
talking with Mother Blossom.
"I'll come to-morrow, then," Miss Florence was saying as Dot and Twaddles came
up the path. "Here's Dot now. Come here, child, while I measure your skirt. Did
you know you were going to have a new dress to wear to Apple Tree Island?"
"I hope it's pink," said Dot with interest. "Pink with a white organdie sash.
And I can wear my white shoes and stockings."
"When can we begin to pack?" demanded the practical Bobby. "We can do most of
that for you, Mother."
Miss Florence folded up her measure.
"Your mother's going to have her hands full," she observed, rising. "Well, it's
most supper time and I must run. I'll be over early in the morning, Mrs.
Blossom. Here comes Mr. Blossom now."
"Tell us the story!" cried the four little Blossoms, falling upon their father
before he had brought the car quite to a stop. "Tell us the story about Apple
Tree Island, Daddy! Please!"
"With fresh asparagus for supper?" asked Father Blossom in great surprise. "I
couldn't think of it! After supper you shall hear all about the island, chicks."

CHAPTER V. APPLE TREE ISLAND
Now tell us, Daddy," begged Dot when, supper over, they were gathered about the
fireplace in the living room. "Tell us, 'fore Twaddles and I have to go to bed."

"It isn't such a long story," began Father Blossom. "You can hear it all before
you have to go to bed. I don't know whether Mother has told you, but when Bobby
was a baby we spent a summer on Apple Tree Island."
"It's funny I don't seem to remember much about it," remarked Bobby anxiously.
"Well, old man, not so funny considering that you were about eight months old,"
returned his father with a smile. "We rented a rather pretty cottage very near