The next morning it had stopped snowing, but there was, as Sam
remarked, "enough and to spare" of snow for coasting. The minute
breakfast was over the four little Blossoms, warmly bundled up, were
out with their sleds.
Wayne Place hill was a famous coasting hill, and all kinds of children
with all kinds of sleds were on hand to enjoy the first real sledding
of the winter.
"Trade with you, Bobby," called a freckle-faced boy, dragging an old
tin tray.
Bobby grinned.
"Won't trade," he called back. "But you can go down with me."
So the freckle-faced boy, whose name was Palmer Davis, took turns
coasting downhill on his tray, which he managed very skilfully, and
going down with Bobby on the brand-new sled.
Bobby taught Meg how to steer, and he usually pulled Twaddles up the
hill, while Meg gave Dot an extra ride. They coasted the whole morning
and went back for the afternoon.
"I'd never get tired," declared Twaddles, as they were starring home.
"I could go sledding all my life!"
"I never get tired, either," announced Dot, from the sled where she was
comfortably tucked on and being pulled along by patient Meg.
"That's 'cause you're too young to work," said Meg bluntly, giving the
rope such a sudden pull that Dot nearly went over backward.
"She isn't too young," cried Twaddles, who always disliked any allusion
to age; he and Dot wanted to be thought just as old as Bobby and Meg.
"Hi, Meg, listen! I'm telling you----"
Twaddles twisted around to catch Meg's attention and fell over into a
snow drift that lined the edge of the walk.
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