IN THE LUMBER YARD

From all sorts of hiding places came running the boys and girls who had been playing hide-and-seek.  Freddie’s voice told every one that he was in trouble.

“Oh, Freddie!” cried Flossie, who had hidden under the couch in the dining room.  “What’s the matter?  Where’s your head?” For she saw only her brother’s little fat legs and plump body near the piano.  “Where’s your head, Freddie?” she cried.

“It’s in behind here!” the chubby little fellow replied.  “I can’t get it out from behind the piano!  My ears stick out so far they catch on the edge of the piano.”

By this time Nan had come from her hiding place, and she made her way through the crowd of children who were looking in wonder at the sight of Freddie so caught.

“Oh, Freddie, how did it happen?” asked Nan.

“Don’t ask him how it happened,” said Bert.  “Let’s get him out, and he’ll tell us afterward.”

“Yes, do get me out!” begged Freddie.

Bert and Nan took hold of their little brother and tried to pull him out backward.  But he seemed stuck quite fast.

“Can’t you push yourself out?” asked Bert.

“I’ll try,” said Freddie bravely.  So he pushed backward as hard as he could, while Bert and Nan pulled.

“Let me help, too!” begged Flossie.  “I want to get Freddie out!”

But there was no room for Flossie to get hold of her brother.  Nan and Bert pulled once more, while Freddie himself pushed, but his head was still held fast between the back of the piano and the wall of the room.

“Oh!  Oh!  Can’t you get me loose?” wailed the little “fireman.”

“We’d better call mother!” cried Nan.

But there was no need of this for Mrs. Bobbsey came hurrying into the room just then.  She had heard Freddie’s cries while she was upstairs, and, guessing that something was wrong, she had come to see what it was.

“Oh Freddie!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw what had happened.  “You poor little boy!”

“Oh, please get me out, Mamma!” he begged.

“I will, in just a minute.  Now stand still, and don’t push or squirm any more, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

Then Mrs. Bobbsey, instead of trying to pull or push Freddie out, just shoved on the piano, moving it a little way out from the wall, for it had little wheels under it, and, as the floor was smooth, it rolled easily.

“There, now you can pull your head out,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and, surely enough, Freddie could.  The trouble had been, just as he had said, his ears.  His head went in between the piano and wall all right, but when he went to pull himself loose, after seeing that no one was hiding there, his ears sort of bent forward and caught him.

“I—­I’ll never do that again!” Freddie said, his face very red, as he straightened up.

“No, I wouldn’t if I were you,” returned his mother with a smile.  “Never put your head or your arm in any place unless you are sure you can get it out again.  Sometimes a cat will put her head in a tin can to get whatever there may be in it to eat.  And the edges of the tin catch on her ears just as yours were caught, Freddie.  So be careful after this.”