The others protested that the kiddie-car wouldn’t go in the trunk; that there would be no pavement on which to ride it; that Twaddles should take a smaller toy.
Twaddles listened politely and set his obstinate little chin firmly. He meant to take the kiddie-car.
“We’ll express it,” said Father Blossom kindly that night. “I’m going to send a porch swing up and a–––Oh, my goodness, I almost told you. And it is a surprise!”
“What is it?” cried the four little Blossoms eagerly. “Tell us, Daddy! Ah, do! Please!”
“It can be a surprise for Aunt Polly,” suggested Meg artfully. “Won’t you tell us, Daddy?”
“No. I like surprises that are surprises,” asserted Father Blossom. “Now, not another 42 word does any one get out of me on this subject. Not a word.”
The next few days were very busy ones; but at last two trunks were brought down and placed in the hall, and Mother Blossom made lists and packed and explained her plans to Meg and Bobby, who, as the oldest, could be expected to remember.
“All the stockings are here, dear, right in this tray,” Mother Blossom would say. “And I’m putting Bobby’s blouses in this trunk. You are sure you will remember so that Aunt Polly needn’t be bothered in case I don’t get both trunks unpacked for you?”
Meg was sure she could remember.
“Where’s Twaddles?” asked Mother Blossom the last afternoon, when she was putting in the very final things. “I haven’t seen him since lunch time. Dot, do you know where he went?”