The Bobbsey Twins Megapack

by Laura Lee Hope

  There were two sets of twins, you see. Bert and Nan were the older. They each had dark brown hair, brown eyes and were rather tall for their age, and not so very fat; though, of late, with all the good times they had had in the country at Blueberry Island and on the deep, blue sea, the older twins were getting stouter. “Fatter,” Freddie called it.

  Flossie and Freddie were just the opposite of Bert and Nan. The smaller pair of twins were short and stout, and each had light hair, and blue eyes that looked at you, sometimes, in the funniest way you can imagine.

  Besides Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey there was Dinah, the fat, good-natured colored cook, who knew how to make more kinds of cake than you could eat in one day. And then there was Sam Johnson, her husband. Sam worked about the Bobbsey house and barn, looked after the horse and sometimes drove the automobile, though he said he liked a horse better. But the Bobbsey family liked the automobile, so the horse was used down in the lumberyard more often than to take Bert, Nan, Flossie and Freddie for a ride.

  The Bobbsey twins had many friends and relations, but I will not take up your time, now, telling you about them. I must not forget, however, to mention Snoop and Snap. Snoop was a fine, big cat, and he was named “Snoop” because he always seemed to be “snooping” into everything, as Dinah said. Snoop didn’t do that to be bad, he just wanted to find out about things. Once he wanted to find out what was inside an empty tin can, and so he stuck his head in and he couldn’t get it out until Bert helped him.

  Snap was the Bobbsey dog, and he wasn’t called “Snap” because he would snap at you. No indeed! It was because, when Bert put a cracker on his dog’s nose, the animal would “snap” it off with a jerk of his head and eat it—eat the cracker I mean. That was one reason he was called “Snap.” But there were other reasons, too.

  And so the Bobbsey twins lived in a fine house in a pleasant city and they had lots of fun. Those of you who have read the other books know that. They went to the country and to the seashore, to visit Uncle William at the latter place, and Uncle Daniel Bobbsey in the former.

  Of course the Bobbsey twins went to school, and there is a book telling about them there, and the fun and adventures they had. Later on they went to “Snow Lodge,” and after an exciting winter, they spent part of the summer on a houseboat.

  When Bert, Nan, Flossie and Freddie went to Meadow Brook, which was the country home of Uncle Daniel, the twins never expected very much to happen. But it did, and they talked about it for a long time. Then they came home to have more good times, and, later on, went to a great city. I haven’t space, here, to tell you all that happened. You must get the book and read it for yourself.

  After that they spent a summer on Blueberry Island, and there were gypsies on the island. Some strange things happened, but the Bobbsey twins enjoyed every hour of their stay, and did not want to come home.

  But they had to, of course, and still more strange adventures awaited them. Those you may read about in the book just before this. It is called: “The Bobbsey Twins on the Deep, Blue Sea,” and in it is related how the family went on a voyage to an island off the coast of Florida, to rescue a poor, sick boy who had been left there by mistake.

  Now they were home once more.

  It was almost time for school to open for the fall term, and the twins were playing in the barn, making the most of the last days of their vacation, when the accident happened about the hay, as I have told you.

  “Flossie! Freddie! Are you under there?” called Bert, anxiously, as he threw aside armful after armful of the dried grass. “Are you down there under the hay?”

  He paused a moment to listen for an answer, but none came. If Flossie and Freddie were there, either they did not hear him or they were so smothered by the hay that they could not answer.

  “Oh, I hope nothing has happened to them!” exclaimed Bert, and he began digging away faster than before.

  Certainly it was a large pile of hay to have fallen on two little children. But then the hay was soft, and Bert, himself, had often been buried under a pile in the field. It had not hurt, but the dust had made him sneeze.

  Faster and faster Bert dug away at the hay. He heard feet pattering on the barn floor back of him, and, turning, saw Snap, the big dog, come running in.

  “Oh, Snap!” cried Bert, “Flossie and Freddie are under the hay! Help me dig ’em out!”

  “Bow wow!” barked Snap, just as if he understood. Of course he didn’t really know what had happened, but he saw Bert digging away and Snap himself knew enough to do that. Often enough he had dug up, with his front paws, a bone he had buried in the hard ground. This digging in the soft hay was easier than that.

  So Snap began to paw aside the hay, just as Bert was doing, and while boy and dog were doing this into the barn came fat Dinah, with Nan running ahead of her.

  “Whut’s dish yeah has happened, Bert? Whut’s all dish yeah I heah Nan say?” demanded the black cook. “Whut you done gone an’ done to yo’ l’il broth’ an’ sistah? De pooh l’il honey lambs!”

  “I didn’t do anything!” declared Bert. “I was swinging on a rope, over the haymow, and so was Nan. And Flossie and Freddie were playing on the barn floor under the mow. I fell on the hay and so did Nan, and a whole lot of it slid down and fell on top of Flossie and Freddie and—and—now they’re down under there, I guess!”

  “Good land ob massy!” exclaimed Dinah. “Dat suah is a lot to happen to mah poor l’il lambkins! Where is you, Flossie? Where is you, Freddie?” she cried.

  There was no answer.

  “Oh, Dinah! do get them out,” begged Nan.

  “I will, honey! I will!” exclaimed the colored woman.

  “Shall I go to get Sam?” Nan wanted to know. “Mother isn’t at home,” she added to Bert. “She went over to Mrs. Black’s. Oh, maybe we can’t ever get Flossie and Freddie out!”

  “Hush yo’ talk laik dat!” cried Dinah. “Co’se we git ’em out! We kin do it. No need to git Sam. Come on now, Bert an’ Nan! Dig as fast as yo’ kin make yo’ hands fly!”

  Dinah bent over and began tossing aside the hay as Bert had been doing. Nan also helped, and Snap—well he meant to help, but he got in the way more than he did anything else, and Bert tried to send his dog out, but Snap would not go.

  Faster and faster worked Dinah, Nan and Bert, and soon the big pile of hay, which had fallen on Flossie and Freddie grew smaller. It was being stacked on another part of the floor.

  “Maybe I’d better go and telephone to daddy!” suggested Nan, when the hay pile had been made much smaller. “You don’t see anything of them yet, do you Dinah?” she asked anxiously.

  “No, not yet, honey! But I soon will. We’s ’most to de bottom ob de heap. No use worritin’ yo’ pa. We’ll git Freddie and Flossie out all right!”

  Bert was tossing aside the hay so fast that his arms seemed like the spokes of a wheel going around. He felt that it was partly his fault that the hay had fallen on his little brother and sister.

  “Now we’ll git ’em!” cried Dinah, after a bit. “I see de barn flo’ in one place. Come on out, chilluns!” she cried. “Come on out, Flossie an’ Freddie! We’s dug de hay offen yo’ now! Come on out!”

  Indeed the hay pile was now so small at the place where it had slid from the mow, that it would not have hidden Snap, to say nothing of covering the two Bobbsey twins.

  But something seemed to be wrong. There were no little fat legs or chubby arms sticking out. The little Bobbsey twins were not in sight, though nearly all the hay had been moved aside.

  Bert, Nan and Dinah gazed at the few wisps remaining. Then, in an odd voice Nan said:

  “Why—why! They’re not there!”

  CHAPTER III

  The Washington Children

  There was no doubt of it. Flossie and Freddie were not under the pile of hay that had fallen on them. The hay had all been cast aside now, so far away from the place where it had fallen that it could not serve for a hiding place. And Bert and Nan could see the bare f
loor of the barn.

  “Where are they?” asked Bert, looking in surprise at Nan. “Where are Flossie and Freddie?”

  “Dat’s whut I wants to know!” declared Dinah. “Where is dey? Has yo’ all been playin’ a trick on ole Dinah?” and she looked sadly at Bert and Nan.

  “Playing a trick?” cried Nan.

  “We didn’t play any trick!” exclaimed Bert. “Flossie and Freddie were down under that hay!”

  “But they’re not there now!” went on Nan.

  “No,” said Dinah, as she poked aside some of the wisps of hay with her foot. “Dey isn’t heah now, an’ where is dey? Dat’s whut I’se askin’ yo’ all, Bert an’ Nan? Where is dem two little lambkins?”

  Bert looked at Nan and Nan looked at Bert. It was a puzzle. What had become of Flossie and Freddie between the time they disappeared under the sliding pile of hay and now, when it had been cleared away to another part of the barn.

  “I saw them playing on the floor,” said Nan. “Then, when Bert and I let go the ropes and jumped in the mow, a lot of hay came down all at once, and then I—I didn’t see Flossie and Freddie any more. They surely were under the hay!”

  “Yes,” agreed Bert, “they were. But they aren’t here now. Maybe they fell down through the floor!” he added hopefully. “The cow stable is under this part of the barn.”

  “Yes, but there isn’t any hole in the barn floor here,” said Nan. “And the cracks aren’t big enough for Flossie and Freddie to slip through.”

  “No, dey didn’t go t’rough de flo’, dat’s suah!” exclaimed Dinah. “It’s mighty strange! I guess yo’ all had best go call Sam,” she went on to Nan. “Mebby he know something ’bout dish yeah barn dat I don’t know. Go git Sam an’—”

  Just then there came a joyous shout from the big barn doors behind Nan, Bert and Dinah.

  “Here we are! Here we are! Oh, we fooled you! We fooled you!” cried two childish voices, and there stood the missing Flossie and Freddie, hay in their fluffy, golden hair, hay hanging down over their blue eyes, and hay stuck over their clothes.

  “Here we are!” cried Freddie. “Did you was lookin’ for us?”

  “I should say we did was!” cried Bert, laughing, now, at Freddie’s strange way of speaking, for, though the little fireman usually spoke quite properly, he sometimes went wrong.

  “Where have you been?” asked Nan. “And how did you get out?”

  “We crawled out from under the hay when it fell on us,” explained Flossie. “Then Freddie says let’s play hide and coop and we climbed up the little ladder and went up in the haymow and then we slid out of the little window and got outside the barn and then we just hid an’ waited to see what you’d do.” By this time Flossie was out of breath, having said all this without pause.

  “But you didn’t come after us,” said Freddie, “and so we came to see where you were. And we fooled you, didn’t we? We fooled you bad.”

  “I should say you did!” cried Bert. “We were digging the hay away. I thought you’d be away down underneath.”

  “We were,” went on Flossie. “But we wiggled out, an’ you didn’t see us wiggle.”

  “No,” agreed Nan, “we didn’t see you. But, oh, I’m so glad you are all right!” she cried, and she hugged Flossie in her arms. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

  “No, but I was tickled,” said Flossie. “The hay did tickle me in my nose, and I wanted to sneeze.”

  “But I wouldn’t let her!” explained Freddie. “I held my hand over her nose so she couldn’t sneeze.”

  “I tried hard so I wouldn’t,” said Flossie, “and Freddie helped me. It feels awful funny not to sneeze when you want to. It tickles!”

  “And the hay tickled me,” went on Freddie. “It’s ticklin’ me now. There’s some down my back,” and he wiggled and twisted as he stood in the middle of the barn floor. Snap, the big dog, put his head to one side, and cocked up his ears, looking at the two smaller twins as if asking what it was all about, and what the digging in the hay was all for.

  “Well, it’s mighty lucky laik dat it wasn’t no wuss!” exclaimed fat Dinah, with a sigh of relief. “I suah was clean skairt out ob mah seben senses when yo’ come runnin’ into mah kitchen, Nan, an’ says as how Flossie an’ Freddie was buried under de hay!”

  “And they were!” said Nan. “I saw the hay go down all over them.”

  “So did I!” added Bert.

  “But we wiggled out and hid so we could fool you!” laughed Freddie. “Didn’t you see us crawl out?”

  “No,” answered Bert, “I didn’t. If I had I wouldn’t have dug so hard.”

  “Ouch! Something tickles me awful!” complained Freddie, twisting around as though he wanted to work his way out of his clothes. “Maybe there’s a hay-bug down my back!” he went on.

  “Good land of massy!” cried Dinah, catching him up in her arms. “Yo’ come right in de house wif me, honey lamb, an’ ole Dinah’ll undress yo’ an’ git at de bug—if dey is one!”

  “I guess we’ve had enough fun in the barn,” said Nan. “I don’t want to play here any more.”

  “I guess we’ll have to put back the hay we knocked down,” said Bert. That was one of the Bobbsey rules—to put things back the way they had been at first, after their play was done.

  “Yes, we must put the hay up in the mow again,” agreed Nan. “Daddy wouldn’t like to have us leave it on the floor. I’ll help you, Bert, ’cause I helped knock it down.”

  Dinah led the two younger twins off to the kitchen, with a promise of a molasses cookie each and a further promise to Freddie that she would take out of his clothes whatever it was tickling his back—a hay-bug or some of the dried wisps of grass.

  Bert and Nan had not long been working at stacking the hay back in place before Sam came in. He had heard what had happened from Dinah, his wife, and he said, most kindly:

  “Run along an’ play, Bert an’ Nan! I’ll put back de hay fo’ yo’ all. ’Tain’t much, an’ it won’t take me long.”

  “Thank you, Sam!” said Bert. “It’s more fun playing outdoors today than stacking hay in a barn.”

  “Are you very sure you don’t mind doing it, Sam?” asked Nan, for she wanted to “play fair.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind!” exclaimed the good-natured Sam. “Hop along!”

  “Didn’t you ever like to play outdoors, Sam?” questioned Bert, as he and Nan started to leave the barn.

  “Suah I did,” answered Sam. “When I was a youngster like you I loved to go fishin’ and swimmin’ in the ole hole down by the crick.”

  “Oh, Sam, did you like to swim?” went on the Bobbsey boy quickly.

  “I suah did, Bert. Down in our pa’ts I was considered the bestes’ swimmer there.”

  “Some day I’m going to see you, Sam,” declared Bert. “Maybe you could teach me some new strokes.”

  “I doan know about that, Bert. You see, I ain’t quite so limber as what I used to be when I was your age or jest a little older. Now you jest hop along, both of you, and enjoy yourselves.”

  So Nan and Bert went out to find some other way of having fun. They wanted to have all the good times they could, as school would soon begin again.

  “But we’ll have a vacation at Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s,” said Nan, as she and her brother talked it over.

  “Thanksgiving’s a long way off,” said Bert, with a sigh.

  The two children were walking along the side path toward the front yard when suddenly Snap, their dog, gave a savage growl. It was the kind of growl he never gave unless he happened to be angry, and Bert knew, right away, something must be wrong.

  “What is it, Snap? A tramp?” asked the boy, looking around. Often Snap would growl this way at tramps who might happen to come into the yard. Now there may be good tramps, as well as bad ones, but Snap never stopped to find out which was which. He just growled, and if that didn’t scare away the tramp then Snap ran at him. And no tramp ever stood after that. He just ran awa
y.

  But now neither Bert nor Nan could see any tramp, either in the yard or in the street in front of the house. Snap, though, kept on growling deep down in his throat, and then, suddenly, the children saw what the matter was. A big dog was digging a hole under the fence to get into the Bobbsey yard. The gate was closed, and though the dog might have jumped the fence, he didn’t. He was digging a hole underneath. And Snap saw him. That’s why Snap growled.

  “Oh, Bert! Look!” cried Nan.

  As she spoke the dog managed to get through the hole he had dug, and into the Bobbsey yard he popped. But he did not stay there long. Before he could run toward Bert and Nan, if, indeed, he had that notion, Snap had leaped toward the unwelcome visitor.

  Snap growled and barked in such a brave, bold way that the other dog gave one long howl, and then back through the hole he wiggled his way, faster than he had come in. But fast as he wiggled out, he was not quick enough, for Snap nipped the end of the big dog’s tail and there was another howl.

  “Good boy!” cried Bert to his dog, as Snap came back to him, wagging his tail, having first made sure, however, that the strange dog was running down the street. “Good, old Snap!”

  And Snap wagged his tail harder than ever, for he liked to be told he had been good and had done something worth while.

  “I wonder what that dog wanted?” asked Nan.

  “I don’t know,” answered Bert. “He was a strange one. But he didn’t stay long!”

  “Not with our Snap around!” laughed Nan.

  The two older Bobbsey twins were wondering what they could do next to have a good time, when they heard their mother’s voice calling to them from the side porch. She had come back from a little visit to a lady down the street, and had heard all about the accident to Flossie and Freddie.

  “Ho, Nan! Ho, Bert! I want you!” called Mrs. Bobbsey.

  “I guess she’s going to scold us for making the hay slide on Flossie and Freddie,” said Bert, rather anxiously.

  “Well, we couldn’t help it,” replied his sister. “We didn’t know it was so slippery. Yes, Mother; we’re coming!” she answered, as Mrs. Bobbsey called again.