f the six. "Supposing it
should be a blizzard, Rose Bunker?"

"S'posing it should!" repeated his sister, quite as much excited as Russ
was at such a prospect.

"Buzzards fly and eat dead things. We saw 'em in Texas at Cowboy
Jack's," announced Laddie, forgetting his riddle-making for the moment.

"That is right, Laddie," agreed Rose kindly. "But we're not talking
about buzzards, but about blizzards. Blizzards are big snowstorms--bigger
than you ever remember, I guess."

"Oh!" said Laddie doubtfully. "Were we talking about--about blizzards?"

"No, we weren't!" exclaimed Vi, almost stamping her foot. "We were
talking about William's croup----"

"He hasn't got the croup, I tell you, Vi," Rose said wearily.

"He has. Aunt Jo----"

"In the first place," interrupted Rose quite decidedly, "only children
have croup. It isn't a grown-up disease."

This announcement silenced even Violet for the moment. She stared at
her older sister, round-eyed.

"Do--do diseases have to grow up, too?" she finally gasped.

"Oh, dear me, Vi Bunker!" exclaimed Rose, "I wish you didn't ask so many
questions."

"Why not?" promptly inquired the smaller girl.

"We-ell, it's so hard to answer them," Rose frankly admitted. "Diseases
don't grow up, I guess, but folks grow up and leave diseases like croup,
and measles, and chicken-pox, behind them."

"And cut fingers and bumps?" asked Laddie, who had almost forgotten the
riddle about William's croup that he was striving to make.

But Vi did not forget the croup. One could trust Vi never to forget
anything about which she once set out to gather information.

"But how did William catch the croup through a broken window in the
neu-ral-gi-a?" she demanded. "When I had croup I got my feet wet first."

"He hasn't got the croup!" Rose cried again, while Russ began to laugh
heartily.

"Oh, Vi!" Russ said, "you got it twisted. William caught cold driving
Aunt Jo's coupe with the window broken in it. He's got neuralgia from
that."

"And isn't there any croup about it?" Laddie demanded rather sadly.
"Then I'll have to start making my riddle all over again."

"Will that be awful hard to do, Laddie?" asked his twin. "Why! making
riddles must be worse than having neu-ral-gi-a--or croup."

"Well, it's harder," sighed her brother. "It's easy to catch--Oh! Oh!
Russ! Rose! I got it!"

"You haven't neuralgia, like poor William," announced Rose with
confidence.

"Listen!" announced the glowing La