"Oh dear!" cried Bert, as he ran, full tilt, Into the big cook.
"Good land ob massy!" fairly yelled Dinah. "Wha—wha—-"
But that was all she could say. She tried to save herself from falling, but she could not. Nor could Bert. He went down, on one side of the doorsill, and Dinah sat down, very hard, on the other, the cake bouncing from her hands, up toward her head, and then falling into her lap.
CHAPTER IV
AT THE HOUSEBOAT
"Did—did I hurt you, Dinah?" asked Bert, after he had gotten his breath. "I'm—I'm sorry—but did I hurt you?"
"Hurt me? Hurt me, honey lamb? No indeedy, but I done reckon yo' has hurt yo'se'f, honey! Look at yo' pore haid!" and she pointed her fat finger at Bert.
"Why, what's the matter with my head?" he asked, putting up his hand. He felt something sticky, and when he looked at his fingers, he saw that they were covered with white stuff.
"Oh, it's the frosting off the cake!" said Nan with a laugh. "You look something like one of the clowns in the circus, Bert, only you haven't enough of the white stuff on."
"And look at Dinah!" laughed Freddie. "She's turning white!"