"And sledding after school, Mother?" urged Twaddles. "Dot and I have
rubber boots, too."

"And in summer we can't go coasting," said the practical Dot.

"That's so, you can't," laughed Father Blossom, kissing her as he
hurried out to the waiting car to go to his office. "Waiting for warm
weather for coasting is a pretty poor way to spend one's time."

Meg wore her locket to school, and long before the noon hour every girl
had heard about great-great Aunt Dorothy, had tried on the locket, and
had wished she had one exactly like it.

"Wouldn't it be awful if you lost it!" said Hester Scott. "Then your
little girl never could have a locket."

"But I'm not going to lose it," insisted Meg. "Mother says I have to
take it off as soon as I come home from school. Then I'll wear it
Sundays and birthdays and when we have company."

Many of the children had brought their lunch, and Meg and Bobby had
theirs with them. Mother Blossom thought they should be saved the walk
home at noon when the deep snow made walking difficult. The afternoon
period rather dragged, though Miss Mason, the teacher, read them
stories about the frozen North and their geography lesson was all about
the home of the polar bear.

"My, I was tired of listening," confided Bobby, hurrying home with Meg
at half-past three. "What do we care what polar bears do when we've