Four Little Blossoms on Apple Tree Island - Tapa blanda

Half of a small boy protruded from the oven, his stout tan shoes waving convulsively. "Twaddles!" Nora coming into her orderly kitchen was amazed. "Glory be, child, are you making toast of yourself?" The shoes gave a final wriggle and Twaddles deftly backed out of the oven, turning to show a flushed face and a pair of dark, dancing eyes.