make her nervous when she's ironing. And Mother is helping make
Dot a dress."

"I'll tell you," cried Father Blossom. "How would you like to do a
little packing for me? You would? That's fine. Down cellar you'll
find an old basket; you take that up to my room and put everything
you find in the lowest desk drawer into it. Then I'll carry it
down when I come in. The lowest drawer, remember. I've been
wanting to clear that out for a long, long time, and I mustn't go
away on a trip and leave that trash there."

"Dot! Dot!" called Norah. "Your mother says you should come right
away."

Dot scuttled for the house, and Twaddles, delighted with the idea
of helping his father, ran to find the basket. Dot was securely
pinned into her new frock when he came panting upstairs, and she
implored him to wait until she could help pack, too. Twaddles
generously consented, and Mother Blossom warned them not to touch
anything except the one desk drawer. They promised, and when Dot
had resumed her old dress, without the basted petticoat, they
earnestly set to work.

"What a lot of stuff!" exclaimed Dot, turning over a rusty bolt
curiously. "What's this for, Twaddles?"

"I don't know," said Twaddles. "Don't putter, Dot. Mother says the
way to get a job done is to work steadily."

Thus admonished, Dot put both her hands in and brought up a