Indeed the dog seemed to be following, with hungry eyes, every motion of the little boy who was wrapping up again that part of the lunch not eaten by him and his sister. They saved about half of it.
Rover sniffed and snuffed as only a dog can, but he made no effort to take the lunch that Freddie placed in a crotch of the evergreen tree which made such a nice shelter for him and his sister.
“Don’t you take it, Rover!” cautioned Flossie, shaking her finger at him.
Rover thumped his tail on the ground, perhaps to show that he would be good and mind.
“It’s nice and warm in here,” Freddie remarked, after a while. “I wish we could stay here longer, Flossie.”
“Can’t we?”
“Not if we want to go to Mrs. Bimby’s,” Freddie answered. “We have to get out and walk some more. And it’s snowing again, too.”
Whether it was or not, the children could not be quite certain, for the wind was blowing, and if the flakes were not falling from the sky they were blowing up off the ground.
It was almost the same, anyhow, for there was a fine shower of the cold, white flakes in the air, and it was much more cosy and warm under the tree than out in the open.
“Let’s stay here a little longer,” begged Flossie. “Rover likes it here, don’t you?” she asked, as she reached out her hand and patted the shaggy back of the dog.