“Gracious!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey. “I hope Freddie didn’t slide down on the hen,” for Nan had told about finding Old Speck.
“He slid right on my doll, that’s what he did!” cried Flossie. “He slid on her, and he sat on her, and he’s killed her! Oh, dear!”
She was about ready to burst into tears, but Nan, running to Freddie, who sat on the barn floor in some hay which had slid with him off the big pile, picked up Flossie’s doll and called out:
“She isn’t hurt a bit! See! She’s all right, Flossie!”
“Will her eyes open and shut?” asked the little girl.
“Surely they open and shut,” reported Nan, tilting the doll backward and then forward, which caused the blue eyes to close and then to open.
“Well, then, I guess she’s all right,” Flossie agreed, choking back her tears. “But you oughtn’t to have sat on her, Freddie Bobbsey!”
“How could I help it?” Freddie asked. “I didn’t mean to do it! I just slid with a lot of hay. I didn’t know you had put your doll down there.”
“Well, I had,” Flossie said. “But I’m glad you didn’t mean to hurt her. I guess we’ve had enough of hay-sliding, anyhow.”
“I guess so, too,” agreed Freddie. “Anyhow, the sun is shining now and we can go to the house. I want to see the clover bank.”