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 squirming 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 feet.—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 Mrs. Blossom; and, "Bully for you, Cherry," said Budd; "we'll begin to-morrow and crack the butternuts."
"What will May do?" asked Mrs. Blossom, lifting the little girl, who was already showing signs of being overcome with molasses tea and sleep. May nestled in her
