"Fill-Up and me is
getting kind of tired of clearing off walks every single morning," he
went on, giving the dog his nickname.
Philip, who sat beside Sam on the front seat, wagged his tail
conversationally.
"Maybe we'll have another snow fight," suggested Meg. "That would be
fun, wouldn't it, Bobby?"
"No, it wouldn't," snapped Bobby ungraciously. For the life of him, he
did not seem able to feel pleasant.
Meg talked to Father Blossom and Sam after that, and in a few moments
they were set down at the school, and the car rolled on to the foundry
office.
Bobby had bad luck--bad luck or something else--all the morning. He
blotted his copy book; he had the wrong answer to the example he was
sent to work out at the board; at recess he was so cross to Palmer
Davis that that devoted friend slapped him and they had a tussle that
ended in both being forced to spend the remainder of the play time
sitting quietly at two front desks under Miss Mason's eye. Altogether
Bobby seemed to be in for a bad day.
"Everybody's so mean," he scolded, going off in a corner by himself to
eat his lunch at noon. "I never saw such a lot of horrid folks."
To add to his unhappiness, Norah had forgotten that he didn't like tuna
fish sandwiches and had given him all that kind. Bobby knew that very
likely she had packed egg or some other good mixture in Meg's box and
that by merely asking he could trade with his sister. But no, it
suited him to feel that Norah had deliberately spoiled his lunch for
him.
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