I see Daddy
first."

"Bet you don't!" shrieked Dot.

With wild whoops the children tore round to the front of the house and
fell upon Father and Mother Blossom just getting out of the car.

"We brought a dog home," cried Bobby.

"Come out and see him," urged Meg, clinging to her Mother's hand.
"He's a dear little dog, and I love him already."

CHAPTER II

AN INVITATION

The Blossoms all went back to the garage and found Sam bending over
the sick dog.

"He's a cute little fellow, Mr. Blossom," said Sam. "Just a pup, too.
Shouldn't wonder if he turned out to be a good ratter when his leg
gets well."

That was the highest praise Sam could give a dog, and Meg and Bobby
were delighted.

"May we keep him, Mother?" they urged. "He can live in the garage.
Please, Mother."

Mother Blossom looked at Father.

"Well, Ralph?" she said.

"Why, keep him, of course," counseled Father Blossom, laughter-twinkles
in his kind eyes. "Norah is the sole objector in the family, and if
you can pacify her there's no reason why we shouldn't have as many
dogs as we want. Named him yet, Meg?"

"I want to think about a name for him," replied Meg. "You can't change
names, you know, and I wouldn't want him to have a silly name."

"That's my cautious daughter," said Father Blossom. "And now it seems
to me that some one said we were going to have supper early
to-night."

"We are," declared Mother Blossom. "Children, you have several things
to do before you are ready for the table. Your faces and hands are a
sight. Bobby, didn't you go to the post-office? Was there any mail?"

"I forgot, Mother--there was one letter for you," answered Bobby,
pulling a crumpled envelope from his pocket. "The dog kind of took my
attention," he added.

Mother Blossom went into the house to read her letter, and the four
children scampered upstairs to wash their faces and hands. Meg and Dot
shared the same room, and Bobby and Twaddles slept in the room
adjoining. Each child had a little white bed and a separate bureau.

"I s'pose I'd better put on another dress," said Dot doubtfully.
"Mother didn't say to, though. Shall I, Meg?"

"Well, I would," advised Meg. "Not a spandy clean one, 'cause you
mussed up two yesterday. Put on the green one again, can't you?"

"I tore that," objected Dot, who certainly had bad luck with her
clothes. "Oh, dear, I don't see why I wasn't a bird with a dress all
glued on."

"'Most ready?" asked Mother Bloss