The Bobbsey Twins | Page 2

Nan.
"It's going to be the finest table cover that ever was."
"Nice as Aunt Emily's?" questioned Bert. "She's got a--a dandy, all
worked in roses."
"This is going to be white, like the lace window curtains," replied Nan.
While Freddie and Flossie watched her with deep interest, she took a
small square of tissue paper and folded it up several times. Then she cut
curious-looking holes in the folded piece with a sharp pair of scissors.
When the paper was unfolded once more a truly beautiful pattern
appeared.
"Oh, how lubby!" screamed Flossie. "Make me one, Nan!"
"And me, too," put in Freddie. "I want a real red one," and he brought
forth a bit of red pin-wheel paper he had been saving.
"Oh, Freddie, let me have the red paper for my stairs," cried Bert, who

had had his eyes on the sheet for some time.
"No, I want a table cover, like Nanny. You take the white paper."
"Whoever saw white paper on a stairs--I mean white carpet," said
Flossie.
"I'll give you a marble for the paper, Freddie," continued Bert.
But Freddie shook his head. "Want a table cover, nice as Aunt Em'ly,"
he answered. "Going to set a flower on the table too!" he added, and
ran out of the room. When he came back he had a flower-pot in his
hand half the size of his house, with a duster feather stuck in the dirt,
for a flower.
"Well, I declare!" cried Nan, and burst out laughing. "Oh, Freddie, how
will we ever set that on such a little pasteboard table?"
"Can set it there!" declared the little fellow, and before Nan could stop
him the flower-pot went up and the pasteboard table came down and
was mashed flat.
"Hullo! Freddie's breaking up housekeeping!" cried Bert.
"Oh, Freddie! do take the flower-pot away!" came from Flossie. "It's
too big to go into the house."
Freddie looked perplexed for a moment. "Going to play garden around
the house. This is a--a lilac tree!" And he set the flower-pot down close
to Bert's elbow. Bert was now busy trying to put a pasteboard chimney
on his house, and did not notice. A moment later Bert's elbow hit the
flower-pot and down it went on the floor, breaking into several pieces
and scattering the dirt over the rug.
"Oh, Bert! what have you done?" cried Nan, in alarm. "Get the broom
and the dust-pan, before Dinah comes."
"It was Freddie's fault."

"Oh, my lilac tree is all gone!" cried the little boy. "And the boiler to
my fire engine, too," he added, referring to the flower-pot, which he
had used the day before when playing fireman.
At that moment, Dinah, the cook, came in from the kitchen.
"Well, I declar' to gracious!" she exclaimed. "If yo' chillun ain't gone
an' mussed up de floah ag'in!"
"Bert broke my boiler!" said Freddie, and began to cry.
"Oh, never mind, Freddie, there are plenty of others in the cellar,"
declared Nan. "It was an accident, Dinah," she added, to the cook.
"Eberyt'ing in dis house wot happens is an accident," grumbled the
cook, and went off to get the dust-pan and broom. As soon as the muss
had been cleared away Nan cut out the red table cover for Freddie,
which made him forget the loss of the "lilac tree" and the "boiler."
"Let us make a row of houses," suggested Flossie. "Bert's big house can
be at the head of the street." And this suggestion was carried out.
Fortunately, more pasteboard boxes were to be had, and from these
they made shade trees and some benches, and Bert cut out a pasteboard
horse and cart. To be sure, the horse did not look very lifelike, but they
all played it was a horse and that was enough. When the work was
complete they called Dinah in to admire it, which she did standing near
the doorway with her fat hands resting on her hips.
"I do declar', it looks most tremend'us real," said the cook. "It's a
wonder to me yo' chillun can make sech t'ings."
"We learned it in the kindergarten class at school," answered Nan.
"Yes, in the kindergarten," put in Flossie.
"But we don't make fire engines there," came from Freddie.
At this Dinah began to laugh, shaking from head to foot.

"Fire enjuns, am it, Freddie? Reckon yo' is gwine to be a fireman when
yo' is a man, hey?"
"Yes, I'm going to be a real fireman," was the ready answer.
"An' what am yo' gwine to be, Master Bert?"
"Oh, I'm going to be a soldier," said Bert.
"I want to be a soldier, too," put in Freddie. "A soldier and a fireman."
"Oh, dear, I shouldn't want to be a soldier and kill folks,"