But, although the farmer, whose name was Ellis, was "no talker"
(he himself said so), he was a quick worker, and in less than ten
minutes he had rigged up the rope to the car, fastened it to the
collars of his horses, and in another five minutes the car was out
in the road and clear of the bushes and saplings.

"Only scratched a mite," commented the farmer, pocketing the bill
Father Blossom gave him to pay for his time and trouble. "Lucky
not to have to have the whole thing scraped and re-varnished."

The Blossoms were home in time for supper, and of course Norah had
to hear about the drive. Bobby did not have much to say, for he
was busy thinking out a little plan that, he privately decided,
could best be tried out at school. Bobby's experience had been
that Twaddles and Dot always wanted a finger in his plans and that
too many fingers are as bad as too many cooks. And any one will
tell you that too many cooks are worse than none.

"Can I take my automobile to school this morning?" Bobby asked at
the breakfast table the day after the drive in the new car.

Bobby was very proud of his automobile that worked with pedals
like a tricycle but looked exactly like a miniature automobile,
even to the red paint and the lamps and the tin license tacked on
the back axle.

"If you won't let it interfere with your school work, I suppose
you may," conceded Mother Blossom. "Is there a place where you can
keep it during school hours?"