Down toward the front gate she skipped, the big bow of ribbon on her
hair flapping up and down like the wings of some great blue butterfly.

"Be careful about climbing on the gate!" warned Nan. "If you get rusty
spots on your white dress they won't come out!"

"I'll be careful," Flossie promised, calling back over her shoulder,
and, as she tripped along she sang: "We're going to a picnic! We're
going to a picnic!"

"I think I'd better watch her so she won't soil her clothes," said Nan,
getting up from a bench, where she had been sitting beside the boxes and
baskets of lunch. "It would be too bad if she should get her dress dirty
and couldn't go."

"I'm not going to get my clothes dirty, am I, Nan?" asked Freddie, as he
looked at his white blouse.

"I hope not," Nan answered.

Suddenly there was an exclamation from Bert, as Nan started down the
path toward Flossie.

"Ouch!" cried Bert.

"What's the matter?" Nan asked quickly.

"Cut myself!"