The Bobbsey twins keeping house

“Now it’s Freddie’s turn!” called Nan Bobbsey. “Get ready to catch the ball,” and she motioned, showing that she was going to toss it to her small brother.

“No, I want to have it once more!” cried Flossie, who was Freddie’s twin sister. “Come on, Nan! Please throw it to me!” and she jumped up and down, her light, fluffy hair tossing about her head. It was cold out in the yard where the children were playing, and that is one reason why Flossie jumped up and down. Another reason was that she was excited about the ball game Nan had gotten up for the smaller twins. “Come on, toss it to me!” begged Flossie.

“But it isn’t your turn, dear!” objected Nan. “It’s Freddie’s turn. He wants to catch, too,” and she held the big rubber ball, looking at Flossie meanwhile.

“Oh, just one more turn for me!” Flossie begged, jumping up and down faster than ever.

“Oh, all right! Let her have it!” agreed Freddie, good-naturedly. “I’ll wait.”

“That’s kind of you,” said Nan. “All right, Flossie, you may have this next toss! Get ready!”

“One more turn for me!” sang Flossie gaily. “One more turn for me! Hurry up, Nan, please!”

Flossie stopped her jumping-jack movements, and with outstretched hands and shining eyes awaited the ball, which Nan tossed across an old flower bed. In the past summer bright blossoms had made this part of the garden very gay. But now, with winter coming on, the flowers had been killed by Jack Frost and the stalks were sear and brown.

“I got it!” cried Flossie. But she spoke a moment too soon, for the ball just touched the tips of her fingers, bounced off, and rolled across the frozen ground of the flower garden right to Freddie’s feet. He picked it up.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Flossie. She had so much wanted to catch the ball this last time, but she had missed it.

“You muffed!” cried Freddie. He had heard his older brother Bert speak like that when, in a real ball game, some boy failed to hold the ball. “You muffed it, Flossie!”

Then, seeing that there were tears in his twin sister’s eyes, Freddie did a very manly and generous thing.

“You can have another turn,” he said. “Toss it to Flossie again, Nan. I don’t mind waiting.”

“That’s nice of you, Freddie,” said Nan.

“Thank you!” cried Flossie, quickly “squeezing back” her tears. “I’ll give you some of my candy, Freddie!”

“Will you?” he exclaimed. “What kind is it, Flossie?”

“It isn’t any kind yet, ’cause I haven’t got it,” the little golden-haired girl explained as Nan took the ball from her small brother and got ready to throw it again. “But I mean, when I do get some candy I’ll give you a piece.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Freddie, somewhat disappointed. “Well, anyhow, you can have another turn to catch the ball.”

“Maybe if Nan should take us down town now she would buy us some candy,” went on Flossie, getting ready for this next attempt to catch the rubber ball. “Then I could give you some, Freddie.”

“Ho! Ho!” laughed Nan. “That’s a gentle hint, I suppose, Flossie, for me to take you after candy. But I’m afraid I can’t to-day. Now get ready. If you miss the ball this time it won’t be fair to make Freddie wait any longer.”

“I’ll catch it this time!” cried Flossie, and she did. Right in her hands she caught the bouncing rubber, and then she threw it back to Nan while Freddie got ready for his turns.

Meanwhile, Flossie danced about, waiting until the ball would again come to her. Flossie was a lively little girl--always dancing, running, singing, or doing something. And Freddie was about the same. In fact, the Bobbsey twins were a lively set of youngsters.

Freddie had caught the ball four times and Nan was getting ready to toss it to him for the fifth when a whistle was heard around the corner of the house.

“Here comes Bert!” cried Flossie, and she darted off to meet her older brother. Bert was Nan’s twin and these two were a few years older than the smaller Bobbsey twins.

“Maybe Bert will want to play ball,” suggested Freddie, as he caught the rubber sphere for the fifth time, making a perfect score for him.

“We’ll see,” replied Nan.

But when Bert came whistling around the corner of the house, Flossie holding him by one hand, he seemed to have something else in mind than playing toss-ball with his smaller brother and sister.

“You can’t guess what I know!” he called, swinging Flossie around in a circle by her two hands, her feet flying off the ground.

“Have you got candy?” the little girl demanded, when Bert had set her down.

“Candy? No!” he laughed. “But there’s a new horse in our garage.”

“A horse in our garage!” cried Nan. “Do you mean a runaway?”

“No, he isn’t running away--he’s just standing there,” Bert answered, with a grin.

“How did a horse get in our garage?” asked Flossie.

“A man put it there,” Bert answered.

“Oh, I don’t believe you!” exclaimed Nan.

“A horse couldn’t get in our garage!” added Freddie.

“Why not?” Bert wanted to know. “It’s big enough--our garage is. And, anyhow, it used to be a stable with horses in it before daddy made it over for automobiles. Of course a horse could be in our garage.”

“Well, maybe it could,” admitted Nan. “But what’s the horse doing there?”

“Just standing still.”

“Is he eating?” Flossie wanted to know.