Miss Snell was not quite sure that she understood Freddie Bobbsey. She looked at the little twin, smiled to make him understand that she was not cross, and said:

“What did you do to Nick, Freddie?”

“I locked him up,” Freddie answered. “In the tool shed. I have the key, too,” and, marching up to Miss Snell’s desk he laid on it a large key.

“You locked Nick in the tool shed!” repeated the surprised teacher. “Why, Freddie Bobbsey! what a strange thing to do. Why did you do it?”

“He pulled my hair,” Flossie explained. “I mean Nick did. He pulled it yesterday, too, and I told Freddie and Freddie said he would make Nick stop.”

“Yes, go on, please,” urged Miss Snell, as Flossie grew silent.

“Well, when he pulled it again to-day,” resumed the little girl, “I hollered for Freddie and we hit Nick and he hit us and we pushed him into the shed and—and——”

“I locked the door!” finished Freddie. “You can hear him hollerin’ to get out,” he added. “Listen!”

The windows had been opened to freshen the air in the classroom, and as silence followed Freddie’s last remark Miss Snell and the children could plainly hear, coming from the shed, the voice of someone calling:

“Let me out! Let me out!”

“That’s Nick,” calmly explained Freddie. “But I’m not going to let him out ’cause he pulled Flossie’s hair.”

“Well, of course, he shouldn’t do that,” said Miss Snell. “But you should not have locked him in, Freddie. I shall have to tell the principal and get him to let Nick out.”

The eyes of Flossie and Freddie grew big as the teacher said this. The eyes of the other children opened wide also. To have to tell “the principal” anything meant that it was very serious.

“But I am sure you did not mean to do wrong,” Miss Snell added, as she saw that Freddie and Flossie looked rather frightened. “It will be all right, I’ll have the principal let Nick out. You may look over your geography lesson while I am gone. I want you to tell me, when I come back, what is a river, a lake, and an island.”

“We know about a island,” said Flossie in a loud whisper. “Once we camped on Blueberry Island, didn’t we, Freddie?”

“Yep!” he answered. “An’ I fell in!”

“Well, you may tell us about that later,” and Miss Snell tried not to laugh. “But don’t talk any more in school; and study your lesson while I go to Mr. Nixon’s office.”

While Miss Snell was out of the room I do not believe much studying was done by Flossie, Freddie or any of their classmates. They all listened as, through the open window, came the cries of Nick Malone calling:

“Let me out! Let me out!”

“I locked him in—’cause he pulled Flossie’s hair!” declared Freddie, and Freddie was looked upon as quite a hero by the boys and girls in his room.

By standing up, Flossie, Freddie and the others in their class could see the tool shed. And the children stood up and looked out as Miss Snell and the principal went to release the locked-up boy. He came out crying, and seemed frightened. But he soon quieted down, and promised never again to pull Flossie’s hair, while Freddie was made to promise never again to lock anyone in the tool shed.

“Tell your teacher, or tell me, when anyone plagues your sister, Freddie,” the principal said.

“Yes’m—I mean yes, sir,” Freddie answered.

Neither he nor Flossie had any more trouble with the “bad” boy, about whose teasing they had talked on their way to school that morning. I think, after being locked up, that Nick was afraid of Freddie. At any rate, Flossie’s hair was not again pulled.

“Our smaller twins are growing up,” said Mr. Bobbsey to his wife at home that night, when the story of what had happened in school had been told at the supper table.

“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Bobbsey. “Our little ‘fireman’ and our ‘fat fairy’ will soon be almost as big as Bert and Nan.” Fireman and fairy were the pet names for the smaller Bobbsey twins. But they were getting almost too old for pet names now.

The weeks passed, and the weather grew colder, though, as yet, no snow had appeared. Freddie and Flossie, who had gotten out their sleds soon after coming home from the West, looked at the sky anxiously each day.

“Do you think it will ever snow?” asked Flossie of her mother. “I want to go coasting.”

“So do I, and skating, too,” Freddie added.

“Oh, there is still plenty of time for it to snow this winter,” said their mother. “Why, it isn’t Thanksgiving yet.”

“Oh, that’s so!” exclaimed Freddie. “Thanksgiving is coming, an’ we’ll have cranberry sauce an’ turkey!”

“An’ pie an’ cake!” cried Flossie.

“Thanksgiving is not meant only for feasting,” said their mother. “It is a time for being thankful for all your blessings. It is a time, also, to think of the poor, and to try to help them.”

“I wish we could help some poor,” said Flossie. “Is it fun, Mother?”

“Well, I don’t know that you would call it fun,” her mother replied, with a smile, “though it gives more pleasure than many things that you do call ‘fun’. Just try it and see.”

Rather thoughtful, Flossie and Freddie went out together. It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving and they did not have to go to school. They each had two cents to spend, and it was while going down the street to the nearest candy store that they passed the home of Miss Alicia Pompret.

“Hello, Bobbsey twins!” called Miss Pompret to Flossie and Freddie.

“Hello!” answered the blue-eyed little boy and girl. They knew Miss Pompret quite well, since Bert and Nan had, on their trip to Washington, discovered some of the elderly lady’s missing valuable china. Miss Pompret was what some people would call “rich,” and she had offered a reward for the finding of her rare sugar-bowl and milk-pitcher. It was these pieces that Nan had, by chance, seen in a secondhand store window, and Miss Pompret paid the older Bobbsey twins the reward, which they turned in to charity.

“Are you going to the store for your mother?” asked Miss Pompret of Flossie and Freddie, as they paused at her door.

“We’re going to the store for ourselves,” Freddie answered.

“We have two cents apiece,” added his sister.

“Oh, I see!” laughed the elderly, maiden lady. “Well, on your way would you mind stopping at the grocer’s and telling him he hasn’t yet sent the barrel of flour, the barrel of potatoes, and the ten hams I ordered. Tell him I expect them to-day.”

“My! you’re gettin’ a lot of stuff, Miss Pompret,” said Flossie.

“Well, you see, I am going to give a large dinner to a number of poor people for Thanksgiving,” said Miss Pompret, “and I want some things for them to take home with them. That’s why I’m ordering so much.”

“For the poor!” murmured Freddie.

“Yes, dear,” went on the lady. “You know Thanksgiving is not meant to see how much we can eat, but to think of our blessings and help other persons to have blessings that they may be thankful for.”

“That’s what mother said,” remarked Flossie. “Yes’m, we’ll stop at the grocery for you.”

“Thank you,” called Miss Pompret.

Then, as she and Freddie walked on, Flossie turned to her brother and said:

“Freddie, didn’t we ought to do something for the poor?”

“Maybe we ought,” he agreed. “But who is poor?”

“Anybody that has ragged clothes is poor,” observed Flossie. “We could give ’em some of our clothes, ’cause I’ve got so many my closet is full.”

“I’ve two pair of pants,” observed Freddie. “I don’t need but one, I guess. But you can’t eat clothes, Flossie.”

“I know it, but you have to have clothes when it’s cold. And it maybe will snow for Thanksgiving. Oh, Freddie! we could give our two cents to somebody poor for Thanksgiving!” Flossie’s eyes were shining with delight.

“Yes, we could do that,” said Freddie, slowly. “But you can’t get much clothes for two cents and not much to eat, I don’t guess.”

Flossie thought this over for a moment, and then her face lighted up.

“I know what we can do!” she said. “We can look for some poor ragged people, and take them to our house for Thanksgiving. Mother or father could give them some clothes and they could have some of our turkey. Daddy and mother have some dressings, too, like Miss Pompret said.”

“She didn’t say ‘dressings,’” objected Freddie. “It’s ‘blessings,’ like you get in Sunday-school.”

“Oh,” said Flossie. “Well, we could get some for the poor. Let’s do it, Freddie.”

“All right,” agreed the little fellow.

They were just going into the candy store, having stopped at the grocer’s with the message from Miss Pompret, when Flossie and Freddie caught sight of a ragged boy and girl, about their own age, standing with their faces close against the glass of the show window of the toy and candy shop.

“Freddie, look!” whispered Flossie.

“They’re poor!” whispered Freddie. “Let’s take them!”

Flossie nodded in agreement, and then they went up to the ragged children who were eagerly gazing in the window, which was partly filled with Christmas toys.

“Come on with us,” said Freddie, tapping the other boy on the shoulder.

Quickly the boy turned, doubled up his fist, and, thrusting the ragged girl behind him, he exclaimed:

“Now you let us alone! We wasn’t doin’ nothin’! We was just lookin’ in the winder, an’ that’s what it’s for! You let us alone!”