"We'll call it Clover Cottage," said Dorothy, "for see how thick the
clover is all around it."

In about an hour "Clover Cottage" was in perfect order. Pictures and
cards were tacked up, and the dolls and the furniture and the dishes all
in place. Snowball was purring on a little bed of pine needles, and Trip
lay beside her fast asleep.

Tired of her work, Dorothy cuddled down a minute, too. Roy put back the
loose board to shut out the blazing sun. Then he cuddled down beside his
sister, and it was all dark and quiet.

At twelve o'clock Norah came to the kitchen door and blew the great tin
dinner horn. Hiram promptly unhitched "Old Dolly" from the hay rake and
started for the house. "I may as well haul the roller along and put it
under cover," he said to himself, as he passed the lane.

He backed patient Dolly into the thills and mounted the high seat.
"Clover Cottage" gave a sudden lurch forward. Dorothy woke with a
scream. Trip was thrown violently into her lap, yelping wildly. Snowball
clawed madly at the slowly-turning roof. Roy tried to shield his sister
with his short arms, as dolls, dishes and themselves rolled together in
confusion. "Old Dolly" pricked up her ears and stopped short. Hiram
sprang down and tried to peer through the cracks of the roller.

Helped by Roy within, the loose board was soon pushed aside and the
unhappy little inmates of "Clover Cottage" crawled out, one by one.
Frightened Trip shot down the lane. Snowball scrambled up the nearest
tree trunk.