Meg was immediately curious––what was it?
“The blackest cat you ever saw,” said Aunt Polly. “And I think probably the largest. He 63 is so shiny, and not a white hair on him! He belonged to the people on the next farm, but spent about half his time with me; so when they sold and moved away last week Poots was given to me to keep.”
“Is that his name––Poots?” inquired Meg. “How funny!”
“Well, he’s a funny cat,” replied her aunt. “And now, children, if you look sharp you’ll see Brookside!”
She turned the car into a neat graveled roadway which parted a pretty concrete wall exactly in half, while Twaddles was puzzling how those things that looked to him like chickens could ever turn into big juicy turkeys.
Eagerly the four little Blossoms tumbled out. They saw a compact, modern house that looked even from the outside as if one might find all sorts of unexpected corners within. A green lawn bordered each side of the driveway, and in one direction was a red-tiled house with smoke coming out of the chimney and in another a birdhouse perched on a high pole near the gate the four little Blossoms had just come through.
Bobby spied the other house and Meg saw the home for the birds, just as people always see whatever they are most interested in first.
“Flowers!” said Dot.
She had seen the hollyhocks that stood up straight and tall against the fence that shut off the back of Aunt Polly’s house.