It seemed that she was, for though she would walk across the room when wound up, she would not cry out "Mamma!" But Mrs. Bobbsey was used to mending broken toys, and after poking about in the wheels and springs with a hairpin she soon had the doll so it would talk again. Then Flossie was happy, and her tears were forgotten.
Freddie said he was sorry he had been in such a hurry, so all was forgiven, and he went on playing fireman. He was in the midst of putting out a make-believe blaze in the village church when the doorbell rang, and the postman's whistle was heard.
"Will you get the mail, dear?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey of Freddie. "Dinah is busy, I'm sure. Let me see how mamma's little fat fireman can get the letters. But don't run!" she exclaimed, "or you might fall downstairs."
"I won't, mamma," said Freddie.
He came back with several letters, and he was again playing he was a fireman, and Flossie was making believe she was a doctor for her sick doll, when Mrs. Bobbsey exclaimed:
"Oh, this will be good news for Bert," and she looked up from a letter she was reading.
"What is it, mamma?" asked Flossie. "Is someone sending him more
Christmas presents?"
"No, dear, but Harry, your cousin from the country, you know, is coming to visit us. Bert will have someone to play with. Won't that be nice?"
"And can I play with him, too?" asked Freddie.
"I guess so, sometimes," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "But you must remember that Harry is about ten years old, and he won't always want to be with little boys."