“Let’s get ready,” proposed Meg, who knew a picnic meant work beforehand.
Every one scattered, Meg and Aunt Polly to the kitchen to help Linda pack the lunch boxes, as far as they could be packed the day before the picnic; Bobby to tell Jud that he was expected; and Dot and Twaddles on an errand of their own.
They were gone some time, and when they returned acted so mysteriously that Meg was quite out of patience.
“Be sure you have enough sandwiches,” advised Twaddles, swinging on the kitchen screen door, a thing which always made Linda nervous.
“There might somebody come at the last minute,” chimed in Dot.
Then she and Twaddles giggled.
“Those silly children,” said Meg with her most grown-up air. “I suppose they think they sound funny.”
Dot and Twaddles apparently did not care how they sounded, and they stayed in the kitchen, stirring and tasting, till Linda flatly declared that she’d put pepper in the pressed chicken instead of salt if they didn’t stop bothering her. Jud came just at that moment and asked the twins to help him see if the new catch on the chicken yard gate worked all right, and the two little torments readily followed him.
Nearly everything was ready for the picnic by that night, and every one went to bed hoping for a clear day.