“Yes, Bert, be careful about the electricity, especially in a lightning storm,” admonished his mother.
“There’s no danger,” the older Bobbsey boy insisted. “The wires are broken, I guess. Who pulled that ironing board down, anyhow?”
“Freddie did,” said Flossie.
“I did not! You jiggled me and my head hit it. Anyhow, the thunder knocked it down,” insisted Freddie.
“Well, come out of the mess and clear the wreck away,” suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. “It’s almost time for supper. Daddy will soon be here and—”
A vivid flash of lightning that seemed to fill the room with its glare, followed by a terrific clap of thunder, stopped her from talking.
“Oh, what a terrible storm!” murmured Mrs. Bobbsey.
Into the room came waddling fat old Dinah, the colored cook.
“Am any ob mah honey lambs hurt?” she inquired anxiously.
“No one is hurt,” replied Mrs. Bobbsey. “But, oh, such a mess!” She looked at the conglomeration of chairs, ironing boards, boxes and the toy railroad, now scattered over the floor.