Four Little Blossoms on Apple Tree Island

hey were gathered about the fireplace in the living r

ll before you have to go to bed. I don't know whether Mother has told

seem to remember muc

anxi

re Mr. Winthrop, a year or so later, built his bungalow. Your mother started off for a walk one day with Bobby, and she walked too far; he was heavy for a baby, and she sh

oked s

she admitted. "M

" said Twaddles in

dd

'll never forget how I felt-so far from home and with a heavy, fretting bab

soms were too amazed

er c

e children were two boys about three and four years old, and the woman was their mother. She said her name was Mrs. Harley and that she lived about a quarter of a mile further on. She was very good indeed to Mother-made her little boys get out and walk and put Bobby

Meg with satisfactio

n we get to App

ved each other devotedly and that, you know, is much better than having a fine house. Well, Mother never went to Apple Tree Island again-you youngsters kept her too busy. But I went nearly every year because I've always had to look aft

d?" asked Twad

hat he would go for days without speaking, and then fly into a rage if any one asked him a question." "He was always

t up before it was light, lit a fire in the kitchen stove and went out of the house. They never saw him again. He had a ro

ntinued Father Blossom. "She had gone, leaving no trace, and taking the two little boys with her. I went to see the shack

er that," Mother B

one afternoon and Aunt Polly tried to keep her over night; but she

clock str

st as things get exciting w

en. No one knows what became of the Harley family, and I believe their shack is slowly falling to pieces. I haven't been to the Island for two summers-not since Mrs. Harley

eepily murmured Dot, toiling upstairs after Mot

so kind to me, always, and we liked the whole family. I only

leather case she always carried, and Dot, in the importance of being fitted

fternoon, and when Dot and Twaddles heard him tinkerin

e gate for, Daddy

es on the running bo

ttaching the "g

wanted to know, managing to

Look out, Dot, you'll step in that can of grease next. Wha

rip of white muslin wa

pett

"I guess that's the petticoat Miss Florence basted

ounced Twaddles. "You go on

very much obliged to you, I think there's nothing you can do for

tely. "She says I make her nervous when she's i

basket; you take that up to my room and put everything you find in the lowest desk drawer into it. Then I'll carry it down when I come in. The

. "Your mother says you

hen he came panting upstairs, and she implored him to wait until she could help pack, too. Twaddles generously consented, and Mother Blossom warned them not

ot, turning over a rusty bolt curi

t putter, Dot. Mother says the way t

ers mixed with bits of string, little ends of sealing wax and many other things

r months, and Twaddles, who was really a neat little workman, brought a newspaper, after they had the drawer cleared out

paper and stuffing it on top of the already full basket. "I'll put

e'd take it,"

id Twaddles confidently. "Look out, Dot-push

uld not see over the top and, just as he reached the head of the stairs, his foot caught in a rug

r hall on her way upstairs with a pile of clean sheets. "Glo