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When Blossom reappeared, with a kettle sending forth a small cloud of fragrant steam in one hand and a tray filled with tin cups in the other, the delighted Ohs and Ahs repaid her for all her extra work at the close of a busy, weary day.
Budd rolled over on the rug in his ecstasy, and Cherry was about to roll on top of him, when March interfered, and order was restored.
As they sat there on the big, braided square of woollen rag carpet, sipping and ohing and ahing with supreme satisfaction, Blossom broached the subject of valentines.
It s the first of February, children, and time to begin to make valentines You re not going to forget the Doctor this year, are you No, indeed, Martie, said Rose.
He deserves the prettiest we can make.
I own been thinking about it, and I m going to make him a shaving case, heart shaped, with birch bark covers, and if March will decorate it for me, I think it will be lovely will you, March Course I will the Doctor s a brick.
I ll tell you what, Martie, I can pen and ink some of those spruces and birches that the Doctor was so fond of last summer how ll that do Just the thing, said his mother I know it will please him.
What are you thinking, Cherry for the other half of Budd was gazing dreamily into the fire, forgetting her tea in her revery.
Fudge said Cherry, shortly and Rose laughed.
Keep still making fun of Cherry, said Budd, ruffling at the sound and to emphasize his admonishing words, he dug his sharp elbow so suddenly into March s ribs that some hot molasses tea flew from the cup which his brother had just put to his mouth and spattered on his bare top male enhancements.
March deliberately set down his tin cup on the hearth near the fire beside his brother s, and turned upon Budd.
Budd tried to dodge, but had no room In a trice, March had his arms around him, and was hugging him in a bear like embrace.
Say you re sorry he demanded Au ow Say you re sorry he roared at him, hugging harder.
Au ow ee ow Quick, or I ll squeeze you some more Budd was jack rabbit male enhancement and twisting like an eel.
O ee wau au Au There, said March, releasing him and setting him down with a thump on the rug I ll teach you to poke me in the ribs that way and scald my top male enhancements.
You re game, though, old fellow, he added patronizingly, as he heard a suspicious sniff from Cherry.
You and Cherry make a whole team any day.
Cherry s sniff changed to a smile, for March did not condescend to praise either of them very often.
Well, she said meditatively, I suppose it did sound funny to say that, but I was thinking that if Budd would make me a little heart shaped box of birch bark, I d make some maple sugar fudge, you know, Martie, the kind with butternuts in it, and that could be my valentine for the Doctor.
Why, that s a bright idea, Cherry, said Blossom and, Bully for you, Cherry, said Budd we ll begin to morrow and crack the butternuts.
What will May do asked Blossom, lifting the little girl, who was hard on pills that work showing signs of being overcome with molasses tea and sleep.
May nestled in her mother s arms, leaned her head, running over with golden curls, on her mother s breast, and murmured drowsily, Ittle tooties tut with mummy s heart tut The blue veined eyelids closed over the lovely eyes and Blossom, holding up her finger to hush the children s mirth at May s inspired utterance, carried her back into the bedroom.
One after another the children crept noiselessly upstairs, with a whispered, Good night, Martie, and in ten minutes Mary Blossom knew they were all in the land of dreams It was a bitter night.
Blossom refilled the kitchen stove, and threw on more hickory in the fireplace in anticipation of her husband s late return from the village.
She drew her little work table nearer to the blaze, and sat down to her sewing.
Then she sighed, and, as she bent over the large willow basket filled with stockings to be darned and clothes to be mended, a tear rolled down her cheek and plashed on the edge.
There was so much she wanted to do for her children and so little with which to do it There was March, an artist to his finger tips, who longed to be an architect and Rose, lovely in her young girlhood and giving promise of a lovelier womanhood, who was willing to work her way through one of the lesser colleges, if only she could be prepared for entrance.
Mary Blossom saw no prospect of being able to do anything for either of them.

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