throwing the baby to her rushed off again with his engine.
"That wasn't very nice," pouted Flossie. "Dorothy might have fallen in the snow."
"Can't help it," answered Freddie. "A fireman can't stop for anything."
"But—but—he doesn't have to throw his baby away, does he?" questioned Flossie, with wide open eyes.
"Yes, he does,—ev'rything."
"But—but supposing he is—is eating his dinner?"
"He has to throw it away, Flossie. Oh, it's awful hard to be a real fireman."
"Would he have to throw his jam away, and his pie?"
"Yes."
"Then I wouldn't be a fireman, not for a—a house full of gold!" said Flossie, and marched back into the house with her doll.
Flossie's dolls were five in number. Dorothy was her pride, and had light hair and blue eyes, and three dresses, one of real lace. The next was Gertrude, a short doll with black eyes and hair and a traveling dress that was very cute.
