"Oh, look at the funny fat boy over there!" cried out Freddie in a loud voice.
"Hush, hush, Freddie!" whispered Nan quickly. "You mustn't talk so loud.
Every one will hear you."
"But he is awful fat, isn't he?" insisted Freddie.
"He isn't any fatter than you'll be if you keep on eating so much," remarked Bert.
"Oh, I don't eat any more than I have to," declared the little boy. "When you are really and truly hungry you can't help eating. Nobody can!"
"And you're hungry most all the time," said Bert.
"I'm not at all! I'm hungry only when—when—I'm hungry," was Freddie's reply.
Then the orchestra began to play, and, a little later, the curtain went up and the fairy play began.
I am not going to tell you about it, because you all know the story of Cinderella. There she was, sitting among the ashes of the fire-place, and in came the godmother who made a pumpkin turn into a golden coach, and did all the other things just like the story.
The play was a little different from the story in some books. In one scene a bad fairy sets off a lighted fire cracker under the palace of the princess. And on the stage, when this happened, there was a loud banging noise, just as Bert and Nan had often heard on the Fourth of July.