Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS ON APPLE TREE ISLAND
BY
MABEL C. HAWLEY
AUTHOR OF "FOUR LITTLE BLOSSOMS AT BROOKSIDE FARM," "FOUR LITTLEBLOSSOMS AT OAK HILL SCHOOL," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER F. RODGERS
CONTENTS
I THE NEW CAR
II BOBBY HAS A PLAN
III HOW THE PLAN WORKED
IV TWADDLES' GRASSHOPPER
V APPLE TREE ISLAND
VI ERRANDS IN TOWN
VII BEGINNING THE JOURNEY
VIII OLD BROOKSIDE FRIENDS
IX ON THE WAY AGAIN
X ON THE ISLAND
XI A DAMP ADVENTURE
XII SUNNY SUMMER DAYS
XIII A SIGNAL FOR HELP
XIV THE RESCUE
XV BOBBY'S GREAT DISCOVERY
CHAPTER I
THE NEW CAR
Half of a small boy protruded from the oven, his stout tan shoeswaving convulsively.
"Twaddles!" Nora coming into her orderly kitchen was amazed.
"Glory be, child, are you making toast of yourself?"
The shoes gave a final wriggle and Twaddles deftly backed out ofthe oven, turning to show a flushed face and a pair of dark,dancing eyes.
"What are ye doing?" insisted Norah curiously. "The sponge cakewas baked and put away hours ago."
"Oh, I don't want any of your sponge cake," Twaddles assured herloftily, forgetting, perhaps, the many times he had hung aroundthe kitchen door during Norah's baking and teased for "just onebite." "I'm life-saving, Norah."
"You're what?" asked Norah incredulously.
Twaddles sat down comfortably on the stone hearth before theold-fashioned coal range and began to clean caked mud from the solesof his shoes.
"It's a robin," he explained. "A sick robin, Norah. I found him onthe grass, and he was too cold and wet to fly. Mother used to put'em in the oven when she was a little girl and that made 'em allwell again."
"You'll scorch him," said Norah, stooping down to look. "That ovenis nearly hot enough to bake biscuit in, Twaddles. Wait, I'll wrapyour robin up in cotton and we'll put him on the shelf warmer;that's about the temperature he needs."
Twaddles, assured of expert attention for his patient, scrambledto his feet.
"I have to go out in front and watch for Daddy," he announcedimportantly. "I want to see what color the new car's painted. Samsaid to be sure and write him."
Norah, working over the faintly peeping young robin, blushed veryred.
"You take the brush pan and broom," she directed Twaddles, "andbrush up that mud. Wasn't it only this morning your mother wastelling you not to be making extra work?"
Twaddles obediently seized the dustpan and the long-handled broom.His intentions were doubtless of the best, but he was a strangerto the ways of broom handles. This one, in his hands, caught thelid of a kettle Norah had on the stove and sent it spinning acrossthe room to land with a noisy clatter in the sink. Twaddlesprivately considered this a distinct feat, but Norah wasunappreciative.
"Glory be!" cried the long-suffering Norah. "Be off with ye, andI'll clean up the mud