“Why not?” Bert wanted to know.
“Because that’s the day Daddy promised to take you to the woods for a picnic.”
“Oh, so it is!” cried Bert. “I forgot about that. We’ll go fishing some other time, Freddie.”
“All right,” agreed the little boy. “Picnics are just as nice as fish.”
“Nicer, I think,” Flossie said. “’Cause you can eat at picnics and you can’t eat fish!”
“Sure, you can eat fish!” exclaimed Bert. “What did I catch ’em for if they aren’t to be eaten?”
“Well, I don’t like to eat fish,” Flossie went on; “so I’d rather have a picnic.”
“We’ll go to-morrow,” promised her mother.
Mrs. Martin came out on the porch, looking from side to side anxiously.
“Have you found your glasses yet?” asked Nan.