is son is going to
tow it out this afternoon, I believe."

"About the sled--it isn't mine," said Mr. Mendam. "I think we'd better
have that on the lost and found board. Do you want to write the
notice?"

"We'd rather you did it," Bobby answered politely. "I can write, but
some folks can't read it."

Mr. Mendam wrote busily on a sheet of paper and then read aloud what he
had written.

"Found--a sled on the Hill Road," he read. "Finder may have same by
describing and making application at the post-office window."

"There--we'll paste that up and the child who is short one sled may see
it and get it back," said Mr. Mendam and he pasted the slip of paper on
the bulletin board which hung over the desk where he had been writing.

"I'm pretty lucky to get my glove back, eh, Carter?" he said to the
clerk. "Would you believe it, I was just going to write out a notice
for the board myself, offering a reward for the return of it. And here
it is placed in my hand. What do you think the reward should be,
Carter?"

"Something pretty handsome, sir," answered the clerk, smiling.

The four little Blossoms looked uncomfortable.

"We don't want any reward, thank you, Mr. Mendam," said Bobby bravely.
"We just found the glove lying in the snow--Twaddles found it."

"But I'd like to do something for you," the stout old gentleman
insisted. "If you won't take a real reward--and I had intended
offering ten dollars for the return of the glove--tell me something I
can do for you."

"There's the fair," whispered Meg, but Mr. Mendam heard her.

"Fair?" he said briskly. "What fair? Where? Do you want me to come
and buy things? Tell me where it is and I'll come and bring my
daughter."

But when Meg rather shyly said the fair was to be given in Oak Hill and
not for a week or two, Mr. Mendam shook his head.

"I'll be away then," he explained. "My daughter and I are going to
Montreal for the winter sports. But why don't you let me give you the
ten dollars for the fair? That will be just the same as though I had
come there and bought that much."

Meg looked uncertainly at Bobby.

"Maybe Mother won't like it," she said.

But Bobby was sure she wouldn't care and when he told Mr. Mendam about
Paul Jordan and his mother and that the fair was for them, Mr. Mendam,
too, was sure Mother Blossom wouldn't mind.

"You put this in your pocket," he told Bobby, handing him a folded
bill. "Mind you don't lose it. And if your mo