“I thought you were going to build a snowman,” said Uncle Dave, the story apparently reminding him of snow figures. “Didn’t I hear something about a snowman yesterday?”
“We’re going to build him tomorrow morning,” replied Meg. “Can’t we, Mother? Just you wait till you see him, Uncle Dave.”
Though the children went to bed early so that they might feel like getting up the next morning and going to work at the snowman, they did not begin to build him till after lunch. Father Blossom offered to take everyone for a long ride in the car as soon as they finished breakfast and they did not get back till half-past twelve.
“Come on, we’re going to build the snowman!” cried Meg, hurrying into the hall for her hat and coat as soon as they were through luncheon. “You watch, Uncle Dave, and we’ll build him close to the house; you can see from the back windows.”
“I’ll come look after a bit,” said Uncle Dave. “I have to have a little nap afternoons, you know. Been working so hard this morning, I’m all tuckered out.”
So Uncle Dave lay down on the big sofa to enjoy a little nap and Aunt Miranda sat beside him and knitted, while the four little Blossoms went seriously to work to build the best snowman they had ever built.
“We want him nice,” said Meg, beginning to help Bobby roll a snowball for his body. “Uncle Dave is going home tomorrow. He said so. And we want to show him we know how to build snowmen.”
“I think he’s lovely,” said Dot, when Bobby put another snowball on for the head and began to make holes for the eyes. “Per-fectly lovely. Daddy, see our snowman! Isn’t he nice?”
The car had stopped at the curb and Dot’s quick eyes had spied her father. He came toward them, around the side of the house, and smiled when he saw what they were doing.
“Well, well, that is a mighty fine snowman,” he said. “Mighty fine. What do you call him, Meg?”