“’Spose not!” said Tibbs. “What’s the trouble this time?”
“Oh, if you’re going to be grumpy, I shall wish I hadn’t ’magined you,” said Coppertop, looking down her freckled nose and pouting her lips; “and my book’s gone! I can’t see it anywhere!”
“Don’t cry, Cece!” piped up a tiny voice from the swallow’s nest. Kiddiwee always took Coppertop’s part in any dispute that arose.
“I’m not crying! But he needn’t be so grumpy, and on a beastly old day like this, too!”
“That’s why!” cried Tibbs. “You shouldn’t have called us on such a day! It’s warm and cosy in the Far-away-Beyond,” he added, with a shiver.
“You don’t seem to understand,” said Coppertop, with tears in her eyes. “Mummie and Daddy are coming home to-day, and it simply must be fine. This is just a horrid July day that’s gone astray! We really can’t have it here on the first of December. Whatever can we do about it?”
“So that’s it, is it?” cried Tibbs; “you want us to help you put the weather right?”
“Oh, yes!” cried Coppertop eagerly. “It’s not for myself, it’s for Mummie and Daddy!” she added beseechingly.
“It’s an awful big interference,” said Tibbs, his eyes beginning to sparkle at the thought of it. “But we’ll do it.”
“’Es, so we will,” agreed Kiddiwee.