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

leisurely.
"Aren't you going?" Dot kept repeating. "Aren't you going?"
"You don't care much where you go, do you, Dot?" asked her father whimsically.
"The main idea with you seems to be to keep moving. How about it, MotherЧwant to
take a little drive?" Mrs. Blossom glanced toward the house.
"I'm as bad as the children," she confessed. "It must be this Spring weather. I
really ought to be upstairs mending stockings, but how can I stay indoors on a
day like this?"
"Get your hat," said Mr. Blossom crisply. "That settles itЧwe're going to take a
spin. Pile in, youngsters."
Mother Blossom came back with her hat and sweaters for the children, and Norah
came to the door to wave to them and see the new car. It was a very handsome,
nicely finished model, painted dark blue, as Bobby had said. The seats were
upholstered in dark blue rep and there was plenty of room for the Blossom family
and for guests, when they had them.
"May I ride with you, Daddy?" asked Meg.
"It's my turn," insisted Twaddles. "Isn't it, Daddy?"
"That was the old car," said Bobby. "This is beginning all over. Isn't it,
Daddy? Meg and I should ride in the front seat first, 'cause we're the oldest."
"If we have to hear this every time we go driving, I'm afraid Mother will refuse
to go with us," answered Father Blossom seriously. "Suppose we settle the
question another time and to-day let the three girls ride in the tonneau? I'll
need Bobby to keep an eye on Twaddles because I'll have to give all my attention
to the wheel."
"I know you must miss Sam," said Mother Blossom, as Meg and Dot climbed in
beside her and Bobby and Twaddles took their places in the front seat beside
Father Blossom. "He was such an excellent driver."
"Well, in a way, he kept me from learning," said her husband, starting the car a
trifle unevenly. "Sam was so fine a driver I was perfectly content to let him
run the car and never even felt ambitious to drive myself. If we want to go
anywhere this summer, I'll be glad I have my own driver's license. What's the
matter, Twaddles?"
"I dropped my handkerchief," announced Twaddles sadly. "Right in the mud. See?
it's back there, Daddy."
"Well, I hardly think we'll stop for that," said Father Blossom judicially.
"You've plenty of those little cotton things and I want to go as far as the lake
road before supper time."
"It wasn't a little cotton thing," reported Twaddles, whose conscience was
peculiar in that it usually bothered him too late. "I borrowed one of your nice,
white hankies, Daddy, to wrap my sick bird in."
"Well, I must say!" sputtered Father Blossom. "I must say! Oh, Twaddles, why do
you always do something you shouldn't? Those handkerchiefs are pure linen and
hand-initialed. I'll have to stopЧyou run back and see if you can find it."
He stopped the car and Twaddles obediently jumped out and ran back to the place
where he had dropped the handkerchief. When he had had plenty of time to return,
and didn't appear, Bobby stood up in the car to look.
"He's fussing with something," he announced. "He's got a stick and is poking
something. I'd better go and get him, hadn't I, Daddy?"
"The child has probably found a garden snake or a frog," said Mother Blossom,
who knew her children thoroughly, as her next remark proved. "If Bobby goes