“Do they go to work in the night?” Flossie wanted to know.
“It’s almost morning—the sun will soon be up,” her mother told the little girl. “Keep quiet and don’t awaken Freddie.”
Flossie turned over and closed her eyes, thinking it strange that men should have to get up and go to work in the night. It was dark, and the stars were shining, as she could see by a glimpse through her window.
“I guess maybe they’re like Santa Claus,” thought Flossie. “They have to go out to cut Christmas trees in the dark, same as St. Nicholas comes to our house in the dark on Christmas Eve.”
Content with this thought, the little girl fell asleep, not to awaken again until it was broad daylight. She found that all were up save Freddie and herself, but the youngest Bobbsey twins soon joined the others at the breakfast table.
“Oh, goodie!” cried Freddie, when he understood that Mrs. Baxter was baking buckwheat cakes and had maple syrup to pour over them. “That’s what I like!”
“He can’t like ’em all, can he, Mother?” cried Flossie. “I can have some pancakes, can’t I?”
“Hush! There’ll be plenty for all of you!” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “What will Mrs. Baxter think?”
“I’ll think they’re good and hungry; and that is what I like to see when I’m baking cakes,” laughed the good-natured cook. She was almost as nice as Dinah, Freddie whispered to Flossie.
“An’ if she has a birthday we—we’ll give her something,” whispered Flossie.