“Thanks,” answered Tommy.

Mr. Bobbsey was very much pleased that night when he learned how good Tommy had been.

“I must keep an eye on that boy,” he said.  “I think he will make a good man.  I’ll help him all I can.  He is so anxious to run errands and do work about the lumber yard to earn money.  How is his grandmother?” Mr. Bobbsey asked his wife.  “Have you been to see her lately?”

“Yes, but she isn’t very well.  She can’t sew as much as she used to, but some ladies and myself are looking after her.  Oh, I don’t like to think of the danger Flossie and Freddie were in on that hill!”

“Oh, well, maybe they wouldn’t have been hurt much,” said Bert.

“Just the same, I think they would be safer on a little hill of their own,” said Mr. Bobbsey.  “Can’t you find one for them, Bert?”

“Yes, I guess I could make a hill in the back yard for them.”

“Make a hill?  Why, Bert Bobbsey, nobody can make a hill!” cried Freddie.  “It just has to grow.”

“Well, I think I can make one.  Just wait,” was what Bert said.

The next Saturday he was busy in the back yard with some boards, a hammer and some nails.

“What are you doing?” asked Freddie, who had gotten up later than usual that morning.

“Making a little hill for you and Flossie.”

“You can’t do it,” said Freddie.  “Nobody can make a hill!”

But he watched what his brother was doing.  Bert set some posts in the ground, though it was hard to dig, for the earth was frozen.  But the posts did not have to go in very deep.  From the top of the posts to the ground Bert next slanted two long boards, bracing them on the under side with shorter posts.  Then he made a little platform by nailing boards from the tops of the first two posts to two others which he placed a little back of them.

“Why say, that does begin to look like a hill!” exclaimed Freddie, for the slanting boards were just like a slanting hill of earth.  “Only you can’t slide down on that ’cause it hasn’t any snow on,” he said.

“Well, it’s easy enough to shovel some snow on, and pack it down hard,” answered Bert.  “You get your shovel and begin.”

Freddie was delighted to do this, and was soon tossing up on the slanting boards shovelful after shovelful of snow.  When Bert had finished nailing the platform on top of the posts, which were about seven feet high, he helped Freddie pile on the snow.  When Flossie came out, after her brothers had been working for some time, the little girl cried: 

“Oh, how did that hill get in our yard?” for by this time all the wood had been covered with the snow Freddie and Bert had piled on.

“Bert made the hill,” said Freddie, proudly.  “I didn’t think he could do it, but he did.  I thought hills had to grow.”

“It’s nice,” said Flossie.  “But how are we going to walk up to the top to slide down?”