“That’s funny,” Amy said.

“What is?” Jean asked.

Amy told her about the new broom.

“Your mother moved it,” Jean said.

The girls searched all over the house, upstairs, downstairs, and in the basement. At last Amy caught sight of something blue behind the furnace.

It was the little broom, standing among the garden tools. The blue bristles were almost hidden by a spade. The brown handle was the same as those of the fork and the rake. If the spade had been a little wider, Amy wouldn’t have been able to find the broom.

Amy was sure her mother would never have put the broom among the dirty tools. “It’s just as if it’s hiding from us,” she told Jean.

“Don’t be silly, Amy.” Jean picked up the new broom.

The two girls went to work to clean the back stairs. Every time they thought they had swept up the seed, they found more. At last Jean put down the blue broom. “I give up.”

Amy swept up the rest of the seeds with the old broom. Then she picked up the blue broom to put it away. “Jean!” Amy whispered. “The broom is shaking! I think it’s laughing at us.”

“Oh, stop your fooling, Amy.” Jean grabbed the blue broom. “Let’s go look at the birds.”