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

branch off and follow the lake shore road that brings us straight to Brookside
Farm and Aunt Polly."
"I dropped my cage," announced Twaddles conversationally.
Of course there was nothing to do but stop the car and let him get out and run
back for it. Father Blossom was a skillful driver now and there was no danger
that the steering wheel would play him strange tricks.
Presently it was lunch time, and as Father and Mother Blossom had foreseen that
traveling in the balmy Spring air and sunshine might sharpen appetites, they had
arranged to have a picnic under the largest and shadiest tree that could be
found. How glad the four little Blossoms were to get out of the car and run
about on the grass, and how good Norah's sandwiches did taste! There was milk
for the children, and coffee for Father and Mother, and after the meal was
finished, Father Blossom showed the children how to bury the papers and waste so
that the pretty meadow spot might not be spoiled for the next picnic party.
"Where are we going to have supper?" speculated Dot, as she snuggled into the
car beside Mother Blossom. Dot was a great girl to consider the future.
"Can't you guess?" teased Mother Blossom.
"I know!" cried Meg. "Aunt Polly's."
Dot and Twaddles enjoyed a little nap that sunny afternoon, but Meg and Bobby
were wide awake every instant. When they came to Little Havre the twins awoke
and sat up, a bit heavy-eyed, but inclined to be resentful that they had missed
anything at all.
"There's the wharf!" shouted Twaddles. "'Member the organ-grinder man, Dot? And
there's the restaurant where you spilled the milk on your dress."
"I want to get a few directions," said Father Blossom, running the car close to
the curb under a drooping willow tree. "Don't get out, any one, for I'll be
right back."
He disappeared into the real-estate office on the corner, and the four little
Blossoms amused themselves by watching the people hurrying down to make the
afternoon boat.
"We'll beat them, won't we, Mother?" asked Meg. "And this time Aunt Polly won't
have to come to meet us."
Father Blossom came hurrying back and climbed into his seat.
"I'm glad I asked," he told Mother Blossom. "They're repairing a stretch of the
lake shore road and we'll have to make a short detour. It won't add more than
half an hour to our running time."
They moved forward slowly, for the narrow streets of the little town observed no
traffic rules, and boat passengers, baby carriages, horses, jitneys and
automobiles had to find their way about as best they could, and then, when they
reached the open road, Father Blossom allowed his car to gather more speed.
"Isn't the lake pretty!" said Meg, as they rounded a curve and saw the water
shining through the screen of trees. "What do you suppose they are doing in that
funny boat?"
"Fishing, aren't they, Daddy?" Bobby asked. "I hope I can go fishing. Palmer
Davis went with his father twice last year."
"I'll take you," Father Blossom promised.
"There's a man walking," Dot announced suddenly.
Before any one could stop him, Twaddles had mounted his seat, his precious cage
under his arm.
"Where?" he demanded.