"Don't touch the barrel, Flossie!" called Bert. "You keep away, or you'll be as dirty as Freddie."
It was very hard work to get Freddie's clothes even half clean, and some of the flour refused to budge from his hair. By the time he was made half presentable once more the kitchen was in a mess from end to end.
"What were you doing near the flour barrel?" asked Nan.
"Going to get flour for the cake."
"But we don't want that kind of flour, Freddie. We want this," and she brought forth the package.
"Dinah uses this," answered the little boy.
"Yes, for bread. But we are not going to make bread. You had better sit down and watch Bert and me work, and you, Flossie, had better do the same."
"Ain't no chairs to sit down on," said Freddie, after a look around. "All full of flour."
"I declare, we forgot to dust the chairs," answered Nan. "Bert, will you clean them?"
Bert did so, and Freddie and Flossie sat down to watch the process of cake-making,
