Brother and Sister | Page 2

morning there were robins, starlings, a pair of beautiful big blue
jays, and, of course, the rusty little sparrows. Each bird seemed to be
pretending to the others that he was looking for worms, and each one
slyly watched the Morrison back door in hopes that two small figures
would presently come out and toss them a breakfast of breadcrumbs.
Sister flung her crumbs as far as her short arm would send them, and
managed to hit an indignant old starling squarely in the eye. He glared
at her crossly.

"Birds don't mind getting wet, do they?" said Brother, as the sparrows
hopped about in the driving rain and pecked gratefully at the crumbs.
"Let's hop the way they do, Betty."
Sister obediently hopped, looking not unlike a very plump little robin at
that, with her dark eyes and bobbing curls. Only, you see, she and
Brother were much heavier than any birds, and they made so much
noise that Molly came to the door to see what they were doing.
"Another rainy day and the two of you bursting with mischief!" she
sighed good-naturedly. "Will you be quiet for an hour if I let you make
a dough-man while I'm mixing my bread?"
Brother and Sister loved to make dough-men, and so while Molly
kneaded her bread, they worked busily and happily at the other end of
the table, shaping two men from the bit of sponge she gave them and
quite forgetting to scold about the unpleasant weather which kept them
indoors.
Their real names, you must know, were Rhodes and Elizabeth Morrison.
Rhodes was six, and Elizabeth five, and sometimes they were called
"Roddy" and "Betty," but most always Brother and Sister.
This was partly because they were so many Morrisons.
There was Daddy Morrison, who was a lawyer and who went to town
every morning to a busy office that seemed, to Brother and Sister, when
they visited him, to be all papers and typewriters.
There was dear Mother Morrison, who was altogether lovely, with
brown eyes like Brother's, and dark curly hair like Sister.
There were Louise and Grace, the twins; they were fifteen and went to
high school, and were very pretty and important and busy.
Then there was Dick, the oldest of them all, and Ralph, who went to
law school in the city, and Jimmie, who was seventeen and the captain
of the high school football team.

Counting Brother and Sister, seven children, you see, and as Molly
truly said, "a houseful." Molly had lived with Mother Morrison since
Louise and Grace were babies, and they would not have known what to
do without her. She was as much a part of the family as any of them.
The Morrison house was a big, shabby, roomy place with wide, deep
porches and many windows. There was a large lawn in front and an old
barn in back where the older boys had fitted up a gymnasium with all
kinds of fascinating apparatus, most of which Brother and Sister were
forbidden to touch.
The Morrisons lived in Ridgeway, a thriving suburb of the city, where
Daddy Morrison, Dick and Ralph went every day.
And now that you are introduced, we'll go back to Brother and Sister
making dough-men in Molly's kitchen.
"What makes my dough-man kind of dark?" inquired Sister, calling
Molly's attention to the queer-shaped figure she had pieced together.
Sure enough Sister's dough-man, and Brother's, too, was a rather dark
gray, while the bread Molly was mixing was creamy white.
Mother Morrison, coming into the kitchen carrying Brother's rubbers
and raincoat, saved Molly an explanation.
CHAPTER II
GRANDMA HASTINGS
"Where are you going Mother?" asked Brother, when he saw the
rubbers.
"I'm not going out," smiled Mother. "You are going for me, dear. These
are your rubbers and coat--hop into them and run across the street to
Grandma's with this apron pattern."
"Will you bake my dough-man, Molly?" begged Brother, struggling

into his coat and taking the small parcel Mother gave him. "Is Betty
coming?"
"Not this time," answered his mother. "It is raining too hard. Yes,
Molly will bake your dough-man and you may eat him for lunch. Run
along now."
Grandmother Hastings lived almost directly across the street from the
Morrison house and she was putting her beautiful Boston fern out to get
the rain when Brother tramped sturdily up her side garden path.
"Bless his heart, he's a regular little duck!" cried Grandma, giving him
a tremendous hug.
That is the way grandmothers are, you know, whether they live across
the street from you and see you every day, or whether they live miles
away and come to visit you Christmas and summer times. A
grandmother is always glad to see you.
Grandmother Hastings was short and plumpy and her white