"It's my turn to sit by the window, anyhow," said Flossie.
"It is not! We haven't passed a station yet," disputed Freddie.
"Oh, we have so!" cried his little sister. "Freddie Bobbsey!" and she pointed her finger at him.
"Children—children," said Mrs. Bobbsey reprovingly.
"Are you two taking turns?" asked Bert, smiling with an older brother's superior wisdom.
"Yes," answered Flossie. "he was to have the seat next to the window until we came to a station, and then it's to be my turn until we pass another station, and we have passed one, but he won't change over."
"Well, it was only a little station, anyhow," asserted Freddie, "and it come awful quick after the last one. It isn't fair!"
"There's a seat up ahead for you, Bert," suggested Mr. Bobbsey, as a gentleman got up, when the train approached a station. "You can sit there, and let Flossie or Freddie take your place."
