FLOSSIE AND FREDDIE WATCH THE MEN AT THE SAWMILL.
Frontispiece (Page 92)

The Bobbsey Twins

at Cedar Camp

BY

LAURA LEE HOPE

AUTHOR OF “THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES,” “THE

BUNNY BROWN SERIES,” “THE OUTDOOR GIRLS

SERIES,” “THE SIX LITTLE BUNKER

SERIES,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

BOOKS BY LAURA LEE HOPE

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES

THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES

THE SIX LITTLE BUNKERS SERIES

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES

(Ten titles)

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

Copyright, 1921, by

Grosset & Dunlap

The Bobbsey Twins at Cedar Camp

CONTENTS

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMP

CHAPTER I—FREDDIE’S SURPRISE

Very still and quiet it was in the home of the Bobbsey twins. There was hardly a sound—that is, of course, except that made by four figures tiptoeing around through the halls and different rooms.

“Hush!” suddenly exclaimed Bert Bobbsey.

“Hush!” echoed his sister Nan.

They were two of the twins.

Again came the shuffling noise made by tiptoeing feet on the front stairs.

“Quiet now, Flossie and Freddie!” whispered Bert. “Go easy, and don’t make a racket!”

He turned toward Nan, who was carrying something in a paper that rattled because of its stiffness.

“Can’t you be quieter?” asked Bert.

“It isn’t me—it’s this paper,” Nan answered. “I should have taken some of the tissue kind.”

“I wish you had,” Bert went on. “But it’s too late now. We’re almost there. As soon as we get everything hidden it will be all right.”

Suddenly there was a sound behind Bert and Nan as though someone were choking. It was followed by a smothered laugh.

“What’s that?” asked Bert in a sharp whisper. “Do you want to have everybody in the house down here seeing what we’re doing? Who did that?”

He spoke a bit sharply, in a tense whisper, but his voice was not really cross. It was as though Bert were the leader of some secret band of soldiers or of Indians, and wanted the men to do just as he had told them.

“Who did that?” he asked again.

“I—I guess I did,” answered the voice of his little sister Flossie.

“What did you do?” asked Nan. “You must try to be quiet, dear, else our fun will be spoiled. Better take sister’s hand.”

“Holdin’ your hand won’t do any good,” answered Flossie, and though she tried to talk in a whisper it was rather a loud one. “Your hand can’t stop makin’ me sneeze,” Flossie went on. “Can it?”

“Oh, did you sneeze, dear?” asked Nan, who, since she and Bert were “growing up,” felt that she must take a little more motherly care of Flossie.

“Yes, I did sneeze,” Flossie answered. “An’ maybe I’ll sneeze more again. I feel so, anyhow.”

“Don’t you dare!” exclaimed Bert.

“She didn’t sneeze! Not a reg’lar sneeze!” declared Freddie, who was carrying a cigar box. Did I mention that Freddie and Flossie were the other pair of Bobbsey twins? I meant to, anyhow.

“If she didn’t sneeze, what did she do?” asked Nan.

“I did sneeze!” insisted Flossie.

“You did not!” asserted Freddie. “You——”

“Hush! Hush!” cautioned Bert. “You’ll spoil everything!”

But Freddie was not to be shut off in that way. He came to a stop in the hall, along which the two pairs of twins were tiptoeing their way through the house, and in the half-darkness, for the light was turned low, he pointed his fat, chubby forefinger at Flossie, holding, the while, his cigar box under his other arm.

“She did not sneeze—not a reg’lar, full, fair sneeze!” he declared. “She put her hand over her mouth an’ she choked, an’ she made more noise ’n if she had sneezed. Guess I know what she done!”

“Did, dear! Did!” corrected Nan. “You must use right words now that you are in regular classes at school and are out of the kindergarten. Did—not done.”

“Well, Flossie did snort and she did not done sneeze,” went on the fat little “fireman,” as his father sometimes called him.

“I—I could ’a’ sneezed if I’d wanted to,” said Flossie. “Only I’ve an awful loud sneeze, I have. It’s louder’n yours, Freddie Bobbsey.”

“’Tis not!” declared Freddie. “You wait till I tickle my nose, an’ I’ll sneeze an’ I’ll show you! I’ll show you who can sneeze loudest!”

“No, you will not!” said big brother Bert kindly, but firmly. “You two youngsters must keep quieter, or we can’t do what we’re going to do. Nan and I will take you back upstairs and mother will make you go to bed! There!”

This was such a dreadful threat, especially as Flossie and Freddie had been allowed to stay up past their regular bedtime hour on their promise to be good, that they at once quieted down.

With Bert and Nan in the lead, the smaller Bobbsey twins followed their older brother and sister. Bert reached a door opening into a large closet near the kitchen. It was in this closet that the children were to hide the things they were carrying, and why they were going to do this you will soon learn.

But just as Bert was about to open the closet door, Flossie gave a little wriggle, and, pulling her hand away from Nan—the hand that did not hold a package—the little Bobbsey girl whispered:

“It—it’s goin’ to be some more, Nan!”

“What is, dear?”

“My—my ker—snee——!”

The rest was a sort of gurgle, choke, and cough mingled with a sneeze. Flossie had covered her mouth and nose with one hand, and thus tried not to make as much noise as she otherwise would.

“Say! everything will be spoiled,” declared Bert. “I never saw such children! We ought to ’a’ made them hide their things this afternoon!”

“Flossie can’t help it,” said Nan kindly. “Maybe she is catching cold. I must tell mother to give her some medicine.”

“’Tisn’t cold,” declared Flossie. “It’s some dust got up my nose. There was dust in the closet where Freddie made me crawl to get him a cigar box.”

“What did he want of a cigar box?” asked Nan.

“Don’t tell!” cautioned Freddie. “You promised you wouldn’t tell, Flossie Bobbsey!”

“All right, I won’t,” she promised. “Anyhow, I don’t know, ’cause you didn’t tell me. But I got him a box, an’ it was dusty an’ it makes me sneeze an’——”

“That’s enough of this sneezing!” declared Bert. “Let’s hide what we have and get out. Dinah’s in the kitchen now, and if she hears us scuffling around she’ll open the door and see us and she’ll think something is going to happen.”

“Well, something is going to happen,” whispered Nan, with a smile. But you could not see the smile because it was rather dark in the hall. “To-morrow is Dinah’s birthday, and, oh! won’t she be surprised?”

“She’ll be more surprised,” said Freddie, though neither Bert nor Nan knew just what he meant just then. Later they did.

True enough, it was the birthday of Dinah Johnson, the fat, jolly, good-natured colored cook of the Bobbsey family, which included the four twins. Dinah’s birthday was always celebrated, especially by the twins, who always brought out their presents as a sort of surprise.

This time they were bringing them down from their rooms the night before the birthday, to hide the things in a big closet near the kitchen.

Thus the gifts would be ready the first thing in the morning, to give to Dinah at the breakfast table, when daddy would call her in from the kitchen to be surprised.

It was Bert’s plan thus to hide the things ahead of time, and Flossie and Freddie, of course, had begged to be allowed to take part.

“I guess she didn’t hear anything,” said Bert, after listening a moment, for Dinah was still in the kitchen, finishing her day’s work. “The door’s shut,” Bert added. “Now then,” he went on, after a pause, “let’s hide our things and go back upstairs. Pass yours to me, Nan.”

The older Bobbsey girl did so, and just as Bert had put away his present and hers, there was a loud sound behind him.

“What’s that?” sharply whispered Bert.

“It was Freddie,” answered Flossie. “An’ he didn’t sneeze—not at all.”

“I stumbled,” answered Freddie. “I’m sorry!”

“Well, it’s too late for that. But I guess Dinah didn’t hear,” Bert said, listening a moment. “Pass me your present, Freddie, and I’ll hide it with mine.”

“I’ll hide it myself,” said the little fellow, and he made his way to the closet, squirming between Nan and Flossie.

“Oh, well, do as you please,” Bert agreed. And thus it was that none of the others saw Freddie put two packages in the closet instead of one. One package was his regular present for Dinah. The other was——

But just a moment, if you please. I want to tell this story as it should be told.

Anyhow, Freddie slipped two packages into the closet without letting Bert see him. One package was a cigar box, tied with a string, and a queer scratching noise seemed to come from within it.

“There! Now everything is hid,” said Bert, when Flossie’s package had been put on the shelf. “Now I’ll lock the door, for mother gave me the key, and Dinah can’t open it. In the morning we’ll give out the birthday presents.”

The Bobbsey twins thought that morning would never come, but it did at last, and Dinah knew nothing of their secrets, they felt sure. With eagerness the four children assembled at the breakfast table.

“Call Dinah in, Daddy, and let us give her the things,” begged Nan.

“I want to give mine first!” insisted Freddie.

“And me next,” said Flossie.

Fat Dinah came waddling in, her face all smiles.

“I ’clar to goodness! Whut’s gwine on now?” she asked. “Did I forgots to make de coffee, or am de toast burned?”

Dinah pretended to be very much alarmed, but I think she knew why she had been called in. At least she knew something of what was going to happen, but not all. She must have known it was her birthday, and the children always gave her something on such occasions.

“Dinah, please sit down a moment,” said Mr. Bobbsey, trying not to smile. “I think Freddie has something to say to you.”

“I—I got something to give you, Dinah!” cried the little fellow, hurrying out to the closet, which Bert had unlocked.

“Bress yo’ heart, honey lamb! Has yo’ got suffin’ fo’ ole Dinah?” she asked with a kind smile.

“You—you’ll be s’prised,” said Freddie, as he handed the fat black cook a cigar box, tied with string.

“Why, Freddie!” exclaimed Nan. “That isn’t your present! Yours is wrapped in blue paper. Don’t you remember? I wrapped it up for you.”

“I’ll give Dinah that present in a minute!” said Freddie, his eyes shining. “I have two for her!”

“Bress his heart!” murmured the cook, as she fumbled with the string.

A moment later it came off, and as the cover of the box flew open out jumped a fat little gray mouse!

“Oh, my! Oh, mah good lan’!” screamed Dinah. “Oh, a mouse! A mouse!” and she jumped up in such a hurry that she knocked over the chair on which she had been sitting.

CHAPTER II—LOCKED UP

“Get him! Get him!” cried Bert Bobbsey, making a dive for the little mouse.

“Oh, don’t let him come near me!” screamed Nan, as she left her seat and hurried over toward her mother.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. “To be frightened at a poor little mouse!”

The mouse ran under one chair after another, and circled around beneath the dining room table.

“Where’s Snoop?” cried Bert, stooping down to watch which way the mouse ran. “Get Snoop in to catch the mouse!”

“Don’t let him get me!” begged Flossie, and she ran over to Nan.

“Children, be quiet!” commanded Mr. Bobbsey. “All this excitement over a little mouse! Freddie, you did very wrong to put a mouse in a box and give it to Dinah for a birthday present!” and he spoke rather sternly to the little fellow.

“Am dat mouse mah birfday present?” asked the fat cook, who was huddled against the wall. “If it is I don’t want it nohow!”

Isn’t it queer how frightened some women and girls are of a mouse? I wonder why that it is? Anyhow, Nan, Flossie and Dinah seemed much frightened, while Bert was more interested in seeing which way the little gray creature ran.

“Get Snoop! Where is Snoop?” asked Bert, calling for the family cat. “Snoop will love to chase this mouse!”

“I help you catch my mouse for Snoop!” offered Freddie.

He had stood, eagerly waiting, to see what would happen when Dinah opened his extra present box. And enough had happened to satisfy even fun-loving Freddie.

“Here, I’ll fix that mouse!” cried Mr. Bobbsey. “Let it alone, Bert. I’ll drive it out!”

Mr. Bobbsey picked up a small open glass salt dish from the table, and was about to throw it at the mouse under the table.

“Don’t do that,” said his wife.

“Why not?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, holding the salt dish in readiness.

“Because you’ll spill the salt and it will have to be cleaned up.”

“I’ll get the mouse!” cried Freddie. “I’ll get him!”

He ran over to the goldfish tank in one corner of the room. On the table on which the tank rested was a tiny net of cloth on a handle and wire frame. Bert used the net to lift out the fish when he wanted to clean the tank, which he intended doing that day.

“I’ll catch the mouse under this!” cried Freddie, grabbing up the little net and trying to dive under the table. But the little fellow slipped, and knocked over a chair. It happened to fall on Flossie’s foot. Instantly the small Bobbsey girl set up a cry.

“Oh! Oh, Freddie Bobbsey! Now look what you did! My toenails is all broken! Oh! Oh!”

“Hush! Hush!” begged Mother Bobbsey, hugging Flossie.

“Oh, mah good lan’!” exclaimed Dinah, “I neber did see such a birfday as dish yeah! Nebber in all mah born days!”

Bert caught up his aluminum napkin ring and threw it across the room as the mouse made a dart toward the door leading into the kitchen.

“There he goes!” cried Bert. “No use getting Snoop now!”

“Well, I’m glad the creature is out of the way!” said Mrs. Bobbsey, with a sigh of relief. “Now, Freddie, what possessed you to do a thing like that—to give Dinah a mouse for her birthday?”

“And where did you get it?” asked Bert. “I should think you’d be afraid of it, Freddie.”

“He was in the box, and I shut the cover down quick—like that”—Freddie clapped his hands together—“and I ketched him.”

“You should say ‘caught,’” murmured Nan. “Your teacher wouldn’t like to have you say ‘ketched,’ Freddie.”

“Well, I—I got him, anyhow,” Freddie went on. “An’ I tied some string around the box and I kept the mouse and I thought maybe Dinah would laugh an’—an’——”

Freddie looked around the room. All too much had happened from his little surprise. The whole place was in confusion.

“If dey is any mo’ birfday presents like dat,” said Dinah, “I reckon I better go!”

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Nan. “Mine is a nice one, Dinah!”

“So’s mine!” echoed Flossie.

“An’ I’ve another!” added Freddie. “I’m sorry I scared you, Dinah.”

“Well, we’ll forgive you this time,” said his father. “Bring out the other presents now.”

And while this is being done I will take just a moment to tell my new readers something about the children who are to be the main characters in this story.

If you have read the first book of this series, called “The Bobbsey Twins,” you have learned that Mr. Bobbsey had a lumber business in the eastern city of Lakeport, on Lake Metoka. Bert and Nan were the two older twins. They had dark brown hair and brown eyes and were rather tall and slim. The younger Bobbsey twins were Flossie and Freddie. They were somewhat short and stout, and had light hair and blue eyes. The children had many good times together and with their playmates, Grace Lavine, Charlie Mason, Dannie Rugg, Nellie Parks and Ruth Nelson. They also had fun with Snoop, their pet cat, and with Snap, their dog.

There are a number of books coming between the first volume and the one just before this. The Bobbsey twins went to the country to visit Uncle Daniel, and at the seashore they stayed with Uncle William. Besides these trips the four children made a voyage on a houseboat, visited a great city, camped on Blueberry Island, went to Washington, and made a trip at sea. They had, a week or so before celebrating Dinah’s birthday, returned home after some exciting times out West.

You may read about these last adventures in the book just before this present volume. It is called “The Bobbsey Twins in the Great West,” and it tells how Bert, Nan, Flossie and Freddie helped solve a strange mystery about an old man.

It was now fall, and on their return from the West the Bobbsey twins had started to school again. Bert and Nan had gone into a higher grade, and Flossie and Freddie, though they were still the babies of the family, were now somewhat advanced at school, and were in regular classes, attending morning and afternoon, instead of going just in the morning, as they had done while they were still in the kindergarten.

One of the first affairs the Bobbsey twins had taken part in since their return from the West had been Dinah’s birthday celebration. Each of the children had bought the cook, of whom they were very fond, a present, but Freddie had provided an extra one, as we have seen.

“Don’t ever do it again, Freddie!” cautioned his father, when quiet had once more settled over the household.

“I won’t, Daddy,” he promised.

“Then you may give Dinah her regular present,” said Mother Bobbsey.

Freddie handed the cook a package wrapped in blue paper.

“Is yo’ suah dey isn’t no mouse in dis?” asked Dinah, pretending to be frightened.

“No mouse!” Freddie assured her. “You open it!”

And when Dinah had done so she found a bottle of perfume, which, she declared, was “jest de sweetest kind what ebber was!” It was exactly what she had wished for, she said.

Then the other presents were given to her. Nan’s was a pocketbook, and Bert’s a pair of comfortable slippers. Flossie handed Dinah a gay, red silk handkerchief.

“An’ when I puts pufume on dat, an’ walks out, everybody’ll be wishin’ dey was me!” declared the fat, black cook. “Dish suah am a lovely birfday!”

There were presents, also, from Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey, and when she had admired everything, and thanked them all, Dinah finished bringing in the breakfast. They all laughed at Freddie’s mouse, and he told how he had caught it.

He had had some nuts in a cigar box, and the day before, coming softly up to it, he had seen a little mouse nibbling away among the nuts and shells. As quick as a wink Freddie clapped the cover down, and had caught the mouse fast. Then, without saying anything to anyone about it, he had given it to Dinah.

“Come on, Bert, or we’ll be late for school!” called Nan, as she finished her breakfast.

“I’ll be right with you,” her brother answered. “If Charlie Mason calls tell him to wait. He and I are going fishing this afternoon.”

“Can I come?” asked Freddie. “I’ll help dig worms.”

“Not now,” Bert answered. “Maybe to-morrow.”

“You wait for me, Freddie!” called Flossie.

“Yes, I’ll wait,” he promised.

Soon the Bobbsey twins were on their way to school. Bert walked with Charlie Mason and Dannie Rugg, while Grace Lavine and Nellie Parks strolled along with Nan.

“Did you bring your skipping rope?” asked Grace of Nan. Grace was very fond of this fun, though once she had jumped too much and had been taken ill.

“No, I didn’t bring it,” Nan answered. “I brought a new bean bag, though, and we can play that at recess.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun!” cried Nellie.

Bert and Charlie were talking about the best place to go fishing. And the younger Bobbsey twins were talking about something else.

“If he does it again to-day, you tell me an’ I’ll fix him,” said Freddie to Flossie.

“I will,” his golden-haired sister answered. “Will you make him stop, Freddie?”

“Sure I will! You come and tell me!”

“What is it you are going to do?” asked Nan of her smaller brother and sister. But just then the warning bell rang and they all had to run so they would not be late, and Nan forgot about what she had overheard.

At recess there were jolly times in the school playground. Some of the boys got up a baseball game, and others played marbles, leapfrog or mumble-the-peg. The girls skipped rope or tossed bean bags, while some played different kinds of tag. It was cool, so that running about and jumping made one feel fine.

Suddenly from the lower end of the playground, near the shed where the janitor kept his brooms, a lawnmower, and other things, came a cry of alarm.

“That’s Flossie!” exclaimed Nan, pausing in the midst of a bean bag game. “Something’s the matter!”

She caught sight of Flossie and Freddie in some sort of a battle with Nick Malone, one of the “bad” boys of the school. Flossie and Freddie seemed to be having a fight with Nick.

However, the battle was soon over. Before Nan reached the scene or could call to Bert to come to her help, Nick disappeared, and Flossie and Freddie, each laughing, ran over to the other side of the yard.

“Oh, I guess they are all right,” said Nan, as she stopped running and turned back.

Then the bell rang to call the children in from their play, and they took their places in long lines. A little later Bert and Nan were in their room, saying their lessons, and Flossie and Freddie were with their classmates, getting ready to recite in geography.

Miss Snell, their teacher, looked over the room. She noticed one vacant seat.

“Where is Nick?” asked Miss Snell. “He was here before recess. Did anyone see him go home?”

No one answered for a moment, and then Flossie raised her little, fat, chubby hand.

“Yes, Flossie, what is it?” asked Miss Snell, with a smile.

“Nick didn’t go home,” said the little girl. “He—he’s out in the yard.”

“Out in the yard?” exclaimed the teacher. “He should come in!”

“If you please, he can’t,” said Freddie suddenly. “He’s locked up! I locked him up!”

CHAPTER III—THANKSGIVING

Miss Snell was not quite sure that she understood Freddie Bobbsey. She looked at the little twin, smiled to make him understand that she was not cross, and said:

“What did you do to Nick, Freddie?”

“I locked him up,” Freddie answered. “In the tool shed. I have the key, too,” and, marching up to Miss Snell’s desk he laid on it a large key.

“You locked Nick in the tool shed!” repeated the surprised teacher. “Why, Freddie Bobbsey! what a strange thing to do. Why did you do it?”

“He pulled my hair,” Flossie explained. “I mean Nick did. He pulled it yesterday, too, and I told Freddie and Freddie said he would make Nick stop.”

“Yes, go on, please,” urged Miss Snell, as Flossie grew silent.

“Well, when he pulled it again to-day,” resumed the little girl, “I hollered for Freddie and we hit Nick and he hit us and we pushed him into the shed and—and——”

“I locked the door!” finished Freddie. “You can hear him hollerin’ to get out,” he added. “Listen!”

The windows had been opened to freshen the air in the classroom, and as silence followed Freddie’s last remark Miss Snell and the children could plainly hear, coming from the shed, the voice of someone calling:

“Let me out! Let me out!”

“That’s Nick,” calmly explained Freddie. “But I’m not going to let him out ’cause he pulled Flossie’s hair.”

“Well, of course, he shouldn’t do that,” said Miss Snell. “But you should not have locked him in, Freddie. I shall have to tell the principal and get him to let Nick out.”

The eyes of Flossie and Freddie grew big as the teacher said this. The eyes of the other children opened wide also. To have to tell “the principal” anything meant that it was very serious.

“But I am sure you did not mean to do wrong,” Miss Snell added, as she saw that Freddie and Flossie looked rather frightened. “It will be all right, I’ll have the principal let Nick out. You may look over your geography lesson while I am gone. I want you to tell me, when I come back, what is a river, a lake, and an island.”

“We know about a island,” said Flossie in a loud whisper. “Once we camped on Blueberry Island, didn’t we, Freddie?”

“Yep!” he answered. “An’ I fell in!”

“Well, you may tell us about that later,” and Miss Snell tried not to laugh. “But don’t talk any more in school; and study your lesson while I go to Mr. Nixon’s office.”

While Miss Snell was out of the room I do not believe much studying was done by Flossie, Freddie or any of their classmates. They all listened as, through the open window, came the cries of Nick Malone calling:

“Let me out! Let me out!”

“I locked him in—’cause he pulled Flossie’s hair!” declared Freddie, and Freddie was looked upon as quite a hero by the boys and girls in his room.

By standing up, Flossie, Freddie and the others in their class could see the tool shed. And the children stood up and looked out as Miss Snell and the principal went to release the locked-up boy. He came out crying, and seemed frightened. But he soon quieted down, and promised never again to pull Flossie’s hair, while Freddie was made to promise never again to lock anyone in the tool shed.

“Tell your teacher, or tell me, when anyone plagues your sister, Freddie,” the principal said.

“Yes’m—I mean yes, sir,” Freddie answered.

Neither he nor Flossie had any more trouble with the “bad” boy, about whose teasing they had talked on their way to school that morning. I think, after being locked up, that Nick was afraid of Freddie. At any rate, Flossie’s hair was not again pulled.

“Our smaller twins are growing up,” said Mr. Bobbsey to his wife at home that night, when the story of what had happened in school had been told at the supper table.

“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Bobbsey. “Our little ‘fireman’ and our ‘fat fairy’ will soon be almost as big as Bert and Nan.” Fireman and fairy were the pet names for the smaller Bobbsey twins. But they were getting almost too old for pet names now.

The weeks passed, and the weather grew colder, though, as yet, no snow had appeared. Freddie and Flossie, who had gotten out their sleds soon after coming home from the West, looked at the sky anxiously each day.

“Do you think it will ever snow?” asked Flossie of her mother. “I want to go coasting.”

“So do I, and skating, too,” Freddie added.

“Oh, there is still plenty of time for it to snow this winter,” said their mother. “Why, it isn’t Thanksgiving yet.”

“Oh, that’s so!” exclaimed Freddie. “Thanksgiving is coming, an’ we’ll have cranberry sauce an’ turkey!”

“An’ pie an’ cake!” cried Flossie.

“Thanksgiving is not meant only for feasting,” said their mother. “It is a time for being thankful for all your blessings. It is a time, also, to think of the poor, and to try to help them.”

“I wish we could help some poor,” said Flossie. “Is it fun, Mother?”

“Well, I don’t know that you would call it fun,” her mother replied, with a smile, “though it gives more pleasure than many things that you do call ‘fun’. Just try it and see.”

Rather thoughtful, Flossie and Freddie went out together. It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving and they did not have to go to school. They each had two cents to spend, and it was while going down the street to the nearest candy store that they passed the home of Miss Alicia Pompret.

“Hello, Bobbsey twins!” called Miss Pompret to Flossie and Freddie.

“Hello!” answered the blue-eyed little boy and girl. They knew Miss Pompret quite well, since Bert and Nan had, on their trip to Washington, discovered some of the elderly lady’s missing valuable china. Miss Pompret was what some people would call “rich,” and she had offered a reward for the finding of her rare sugar-bowl and milk-pitcher. It was these pieces that Nan had, by chance, seen in a secondhand store window, and Miss Pompret paid the older Bobbsey twins the reward, which they turned in to charity.

“Are you going to the store for your mother?” asked Miss Pompret of Flossie and Freddie, as they paused at her door.

“We’re going to the store for ourselves,” Freddie answered.

“We have two cents apiece,” added his sister.

“Oh, I see!” laughed the elderly, maiden lady. “Well, on your way would you mind stopping at the grocer’s and telling him he hasn’t yet sent the barrel of flour, the barrel of potatoes, and the ten hams I ordered. Tell him I expect them to-day.”

“My! you’re gettin’ a lot of stuff, Miss Pompret,” said Flossie.

“Well, you see, I am going to give a large dinner to a number of poor people for Thanksgiving,” said Miss Pompret, “and I want some things for them to take home with them. That’s why I’m ordering so much.”

“For the poor!” murmured Freddie.

“Yes, dear,” went on the lady. “You know Thanksgiving is not meant to see how much we can eat, but to think of our blessings and help other persons to have blessings that they may be thankful for.”

“That’s what mother said,” remarked Flossie. “Yes’m, we’ll stop at the grocery for you.”

“Thank you,” called Miss Pompret.

Then, as she and Freddie walked on, Flossie turned to her brother and said:

“Freddie, didn’t we ought to do something for the poor?”

“Maybe we ought,” he agreed. “But who is poor?”

“Anybody that has ragged clothes is poor,” observed Flossie. “We could give ’em some of our clothes, ’cause I’ve got so many my closet is full.”

“I’ve two pair of pants,” observed Freddie. “I don’t need but one, I guess. But you can’t eat clothes, Flossie.”

“I know it, but you have to have clothes when it’s cold. And it maybe will snow for Thanksgiving. Oh, Freddie! we could give our two cents to somebody poor for Thanksgiving!” Flossie’s eyes were shining with delight.

“Yes, we could do that,” said Freddie, slowly. “But you can’t get much clothes for two cents and not much to eat, I don’t guess.”

Flossie thought this over for a moment, and then her face lighted up.

“I know what we can do!” she said. “We can look for some poor ragged people, and take them to our house for Thanksgiving. Mother or father could give them some clothes and they could have some of our turkey. Daddy and mother have some dressings, too, like Miss Pompret said.”

“She didn’t say ‘dressings,’” objected Freddie. “It’s ‘blessings,’ like you get in Sunday-school.”

“Oh,” said Flossie. “Well, we could get some for the poor. Let’s do it, Freddie.”

“All right,” agreed the little fellow.

They were just going into the candy store, having stopped at the grocer’s with the message from Miss Pompret, when Flossie and Freddie caught sight of a ragged boy and girl, about their own age, standing with their faces close against the glass of the show window of the toy and candy shop.

“Freddie, look!” whispered Flossie.

“They’re poor!” whispered Freddie. “Let’s take them!”

Flossie nodded in agreement, and then they went up to the ragged children who were eagerly gazing in the window, which was partly filled with Christmas toys.

“Come on with us,” said Freddie, tapping the other boy on the shoulder.

Quickly the boy turned, doubled up his fist, and, thrusting the ragged girl behind him, he exclaimed:

“Now you let us alone! We wasn’t doin’ nothin’! We was just lookin’ in the winder, an’ that’s what it’s for! You let us alone!”

CHAPTER IV—BERT IN DANGER

Flossie and Freddie were so surprised at the strange action on the part of the ragged boy that they hardly knew what to do. Flossie looked at Freddie and Freddie looked at his sister, and then they looked at the strange boy and girl.

“You let her alone, an’ you let me alone!” ordered the ragged boy. “I ain’t done nothin’, an’ she ain’t done nothin’!”

“You shouldn’t say ‘ain’t,’ ’cause it ain’t—I mean it isn’t a good word. Our teacher says so,” Flossie quickly admonished the strange boy.

“Well, I don’t care what I say, you oughtn’t to drive us away from lookin’ in this winder,” objected the boy. “Nice smells comes out; and when you ain’t—I mean when you isn’t got any money to buy candy, you can smell it!”

Flossie and Freddie looked at each other in surprise. To be so poor that one had to “smell” candy instead of eating it, was to be poor indeed! Flossie opened her fat chubby hand and looked at the two moist pennies clutched there. Freddie did the same. Then the small Bobbsey twins, with one accord, held out the money to the boy and girl.

“Here,” said Freddie. “Take it!”

“Mine too!” added Flossie. “You can buy candy with it!”

For a moment the ragged boy and girl did not know what to say. Then a smile came over the boy’s face. His fist unclenched, and his sister smiled too.

“You mean this—for us?” he asked.

“Sure!” answered Freddie. “We don’t need candy, and we’ll feel good for Thanksgivin’!”

“Oh, I’m going to buy two lollypops!” cried the ragged girl.

“I want gum!” said the boy, and into the store they disappeared.

Freddie drew a long breath.

“I—I feel happy, don’t you?” he asked Flossie.

“Yes,” she answered. “I—I guess I do! Anyhow, we can ask mother for more pennies when we go home.”

“Let’s take them home for Thanksgiving,” suggested Freddie.

“You mean that ragged boy and girl?” asked Flossie.

“Yes. Miss Pompret is going to feed some poor, and we can feed some at our house. Let’s take ’em home,” went on Freddie.

“Oh, that will be fine!” Flossie agreed. “Let’s!”

When they came out of the candy store the ragged boy and his sister, who at first thought Flossie and Freddie had wanted to drive them away from the window, were smiling.

“You’re coming home with us!” announced Freddie, taking the boy’s hand.

“For Thanksgiving,” added Flossie. “Course it isn’t Thanksgiving yet, but we want to feel good when it does come, so we’re going to feed you now.”

“Well, I’m hungry all right,” sighed the ragged boy.

“So’m I,” said his sister.

And so, hardly knowing what was going to happen, the ragged boy, who said his name was Dick, and his sister, who was Mary Thompson, went with the little Bobbsey twins.

Mrs. Bobbsey was very much surprised when her little son and daughter came up the steps, leading a strange ragged boy and girl.

“We brought them home for Thanksgiving, like Miss Pompret’s going to do,” said Freddie.

“So’s to make us be more happier,” added Flossie. “And we gave them our two cents, so please can we have more? And they’re hungry, Mother!”

Mrs. Bobbsey understood that it was the kind hearts of Flossie and Freddie that had brought all this about. So she welcomed the two strange children, and took them out to Dinah, who, you may be sure, fed them enough, and almost too much.

After that meal, which Dick said was the “best feed” he ever had eaten, and after Flossie and Freddie had finished watching their strange, ragged guests eat, Mrs. Bobbsey asked Dick and his sister some questions.

She found out that they lived on the other side of town, that their father was dead, and that their mother did what she could for her children.