appeared.

"How's your brain working, Twaddles?" asked Bobby, as older brothers
do.

"It's working," Twaddles answered soberly.

Norah said supper was ready at that moment, so there wasn't time to
find out what Twaddles was thinking. And after supper came bedtime
at its usual fast pace--the four little Blossoms were sure that
something happened to the clock between supper and bedtime; the hands
came unscrewed, or something, and went around twice as fast as they
worked the rest of the day.

"We'll find homes for the kittens when we come home this afternoon,"
Meg promised at the breakfast table the next morning. "I've fed them,
Mother, and can't Dot and Twaddles take them some milk this noon? Miss
Mason wants us to stay and practice the songs for Thanksgiving."

Norah had put up a neat little lunch for Meg and another for Bobby and
the twins were almost beside themselves with envy. Would the time ever
come, they thought, when they could go to school and sometimes have to
stay over the noon hour and not come home to lunch? They were sure
there could be nothing more exciting, except the actual going to
school, than taking one's lunch in a boy and eating it with a crowd of
other hungry children.

"Let's go see the kittens," Twaddles suggested, as soon as Bobby and
Meg had gone.

Dot trotted after him to the garage. They found Sam busily picking up
little furry bodies and scolding under his breath.

"These blamed cats," he told the children, "don't know when they're
well off. They keep climbing out of that box and first thing you know
I'm going to step on one; then there will be a nice squalling."

Dot and Twaddles helped him stuff the kittens into the box and he
pulled the rug over the top, saying that if it was dark enough inside,
perhaps they would go to sleep.

"I have to take your father out to the foundry," said Sam, opening the
big door. "Now see that I don't run over any live stock on my way
out."

The twins watched him take the car and saw to it that no kittens were
in his path. As soon as he had gone, Twaddles looked at Dot.

"Let you and me find homes for 'em," he said distinctly.

"Homes for the kittens?" Dot asked doubtfully.

"Of course. We can do it," declared Twaddles with magnificent
confidence.

"Suppose people don't want them," Dot offered. "Lots of people have
cats."

"Well, lots haven't," was Twaddles' reply to this argument. "We'll
keep going till we find the folks who haven't any."