“I shouldn’t think you’d want to go where you’re not wanted,” said Bobby crossly.
“Well, we do,” retorted Twaddles. “We’re going—you’ll see.”
“Why, this doesn’t sound much like Christmas,” said Father Blossom in surprise. “You’ll be quarreling in a minute, and no one should ever quarrel at Christmas time. If you’re coming with me, Meg and Bobby, get your things on. And, Dot and Twaddles, I thought you were going to play out in the snow?”
The thought of the snow restored Dot and Twaddles to good humor and they ran to get their mittens and leggings and coats, while Meg and Bobby rode to school with Sam and Father Blossom.
When they came home at noon, they had news to tell of the last day, before the Christmas vacation began.
“We’re not going to have exercises this year,” reported Meg, “but Miss Wright is going to read us a Christmas story and everybody will sing. And then there is a big Christmas tree and every child brings two presents—not great, big expensive ones, Mother, but little silly ones.”
“What’s a silly present?” demanded Twaddles.
“Mother,” said Meg with dignity, “can’t I ever speak to you without Twaddles listening?”
“I’m not listening,” cried Twaddles, much hurt. “And Dot isn’t listening, either.”
“What do you suppose Uncle Dave and Aunt Miranda will think of children who squabble as you do?” said Mother Blossom. “Bobby, will you bring me the letter that is on the hall table, like my good little son?”