“Isn’t it fun?” she greeted her little brother.  “Mother says we may each have a garden this year; didn’t you, Mother?”

“I surely did,” agreed Mother Blossom, smiling.  “What is Dot bringing?”

Around the corner of the house came Dot, Twaddles’ twin sister.  Her hair-ribbon drooped perilously on the end of a straggling lock of dark hair and her pretty dark blue frock hung in a gap below the belt where it had pulled loose at the gathers.  Dot always had trouble about keeping her frocks neat.

“I got a hose!” she declared triumphantly.  “Daddy won’t have to buy one.  The Mertons threw this out on the trash basket and I brought it home.  I guess Daddy can mend it.”

Bobby shouted with laughter.

“That’s the old piece they used to beat rugs with,” he said positively, “Nobody could mend that.”

“Come see the robin I found,” suggested Twaddles.  “It’s getting dry on the shelf warmer.  Perhaps we can keep him to play with.”

“That you can’t,” said Mother Blossom quickly.  “It wouldn’t be right in the first place, and in the second place it is against the law.  You must put him out in the grass again, Twaddles, as soon as he is warm and dry.”

“Daddy!” Meg’s quick eyes had seen a car making the corner turn.  “Here comes Daddy!  What color is the car, Bobby?”

“Black—­no, blue, dark blue!” cried Bobby.

As the comfortable touring car drew up at the curb and the smiling driver waved a gloved hand at the eager group on the porch, Dot jumped up and down with excitement.

“Take me, Daddy?” she shrieked.  “Aren’t you going?”

Pell-mell the children raced down the garden path and Mrs. Blossom followed more 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, Mother—­want 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 it—­we’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.”