"I'd never get tired," declared Twaddles, as they were starring home.
"I could go sledding all my life!"

"I never get tired, either," announced Dot, from the sled where she was
comfortably tucked on and being pulled along by patient Meg.

"That's 'cause you're too young to work," said Meg bluntly, giving the
rope such a sudden pull that Dot nearly went over backward.

"She isn't too young," cried Twaddles, who always disliked any allusion
to age; he and Dot wanted to be thought just as old as Bobby and Meg.
"Hi, Meg, listen! I'm telling you----"

Twaddles twisted around to catch Meg's attention and fell over into a
snow drift that lined the edge of the walk. When he had been fished
out and brushed off, he had forgotten what he had meant to tell.

Sunday it snowed more, and a high wind whirled the flakes about till
the older folk shook their heads and began to talk about a blizzard.
However, by Monday morning the wind had died down and the snow had
stopped, though the sun refused to shine.

"Sam says it's awful cold," said Norah, bringing in the hot cakes for
breakfast. "He's got the walks cleaned off, but maybe the children
shouldn't go to school."

"Nonsense!" said Mother Blossom briskly. "Meg and Bobby both have
rubber boots and warm mittens and coats. A little cold won't hurt
them."