Norah had a sharp tongue, but her heart was generous and sweet.
“The poor beastie!” she said, opening the screen door of her jealously guarded kitchen. “Bring him in, Meg. He do be having fever, I suspect. I’ll get him a cup of water. Dear, dear!”
Making a soft, sympathetic, clucking noise, Norah hurried to get a cup of cool water which the little dog lapped up greedily, standing on his three good legs.
“Bobby said he thought Sam would let him sleep in the garage,” said Meg. “I suppose it is cooler there for him. All right, Norah, I’ll carry him out. But we want to show him to Mother.”
“She went to meet your father––she and Sam with the car,” Norah told them. “And if I don’t 17 get my biscuits in, they’ll be back before there’s a thing cooked to eat.”
The children took the hint and hurried to the garage. Bobby and Twaddles spread an old mat for the dog in a cool, dark corner, and very glad he seemed to be to have a place to lie down.
“We’ll bring you some supper,” Meg promised, patting him kindly. “You take a nap and forget ’bout your troubles.”
“There’s the car round front!” shouted Twaddles. “Bet you I see Daddy first.”
“Bet you don’t!” shrieked Dot.
With wild whoops the children tore round to the front of the house and fell upon Father and Mother Blossom just getting out of the car.