he had thought of it, and not for
worlds would he have admitted that it was exceedingly heavy to lift.

"There!" said Bobby, when they had it finally in place. "How's that
for a house?"

"It's perfectly----" Meg began.

She meant to say "perfectly wonderful," but just then Twaddles jumped
down to the floor from the pile. In doing this he jarred the wonderful
structure, and with a crash that could be heard all over the house,
umbrella rack, stools, chairs and rugs slithered together in a
complete wreck.

"Geraldine!" shrieked Dot. "She'll be smashed and killed!"

"For the love of mercy, what are ye doing now?" The long-suffering but
not always patient Norah stood in the doorway. "Bobby, what are ye up
to the minute your mother turns her back? Is Dot hurt? What's she
crying for?"

Norah always asked a great many questions, and it was of no use, as
the children had learned from experience, to try to answer her till
she had had her say.

"What are ye trying to do?" asked Norah again. "'Tis fine and
peaceful the summer has been with ye all at Brookside. And now the
minute you're home again, the house must be torn down about our
ears."

"We were building a house, Norah," explained Bobby. "We're going to
put everything back when we're through. Oh, hush, Dot, Geraldine isn't
hurt."

To prove it, Bobby crawled in under the wreckage and dragged out the
smiling Geraldine apparently uninjured. But as Dot took the doll in
her arms a dreadful thing happened.

Geraldine's head tumbled off!

The four little Blossoms gasped with horror, and even Norah was
startled. Then, as Dot's mouth opened for a loud wail, Meg came to the
relief of every one.

"Daddy can mend it, Dot," she urged earnestly. "See, it is cracked
right across and there aren't any chips out. 'Member how he mended
Mother's china cup and she can wash it in hot water and everything?
Can't she, Norah?"

"Sure then, she can," said Norah heartily. "Don't go crying now, Dot;
the doll can be mended as fine as ever. Put up the furniture like
good children, do. Your mother will be coming home any minute."

Poor little Dot tried to stop crying, and the four youngsters rather
solemnly set about the task of leaving things as they had found them,
which, as you know yourself, isn't half as much fun as getting them
out to play with. However, everything was in its place before Mother
Blossom came home, and after supper that night Father Blossom put some
of his wonderf