It was all he could do to get into the house, and as a consequence Mrs. Bobbsey was much alarmed. She took off his shoe and stocking and found the ankle scratched and swollen, and bathed it and bound it up. "You must lie down on the sofa," she said. "Never mind the broken sled. Perhaps your papa can fix it when he comes home." Bert detested playing the part of an invalid, but he soon discovered that keeping the ankle quiet felt much better than trying to walk around upon it. That night Mr. Bobbsey carried him up to bed, and he remained home for three days, when the ankle became as well as ever. The broken sled was sent to a nearby cabinet maker, and came back practically as good as new. "You must not have anything to do with Danny Rugg," said Mrs. Bobbsey to her son. "He is very rough and ungentlemanly." "I'll leave him alone, mamma, if he'll leave me alone," answered Bert. During those days spent at home, Nan did her best to amuse her brother. As soon as she was out of school she came straight home, and read to him and played games. Nan was also learning to play on the piano and she played a number of tunes that he liked to hear. They were so much attached to each other that it did not seem natural for Nan to go out unless her twin brother could go out too. The first snow storm had been followed by another, so that in the garden the snow lay deeper than ever. This was a great delight to Freddie and Flossie, who worked hard to build themselves a snow house. They enlisted the services of Sam, the stableman, who speedily piled up for them a heap of snow much higher than their heads. "Now, chillun, dar am de house," said the colored man. "All yo' hab got to do is to clear out de insides." And then he went off to his work, after starting the hole for them. Flossie wanted to divide the house into three rooms, "dining room, kitchen, and bedroom," as she said, but Freddie objected. "'Taint big enough," said the little boy. "Make one big room and call it ev'rything." "But we haven't got an _ev'rything_," said Flossie. "Well, then, call it the parlor," said Freddie. "When it's done we can put in a carpet and two chairs for us to sit on." It was hard work for such little hands to dig out the inside of the heap of snow, but they kept at it, and at last the hole was big enough for Freddie to crawl into. "Oh, it's jess _beau_tiful!" he cried, "Try it, Flossie!" And Flossie did try, and said the house was going to be perfect. "Only we must have a bay window," she added. "And a curtain, just like mamma." They continued to shovel away, and soon Freddie said he could almost stand up in the house. He was inside, shoveling out the snow, while his twin sister packed what he threw out on the outside, as Sam had told them to do. "Where shall I put the bay window?" asked the little boy, presently. "On this side," answered Flossie, pointing with the shovel she held. At once Freddie began to dig a hole through the side of the pile of snow.