may cut yourself so bad you can't go to the picnic."

"Let the boat go!" advised Freddie. "It's good enough, anyhow, and I
want you to go to the picnic, Bert."

"All right. The little ship is almost finished, anyhow. I just have to
make about three more cuts and then I'm done."

His finger had stopped bleeding--indeed the cut was a very small
one--and Bert was soon putting the last touches to the tiny craft which
Freddie wanted to sail in the little lake at the picnic grounds.

Just as Bert handed the homemade toy to his brother, and when Nan
reached Flossie, in time to stop her from climbing on the gate, a noise
of honking horns was heard down the street.

"Oh, here they come! Here come the trucks!" cried Flossie, dancing up
and down.

"Get the lunch!" called Freddie, to make sure they would not go hungry
on the picnic.

"I'll go in and tell mother we're going," called Nan to Bert, who shut
up his knife, brushed the whittlings off his clothes, and began to
gather up the boxes and baskets of lunch. "Watch Flossie!" Nan added,
for there was no telling what the excitable little "fairy" might do at
the last moment.

"All right," Bert answered. "Here, Freddie!" he called. "Don't run with
that sharp-pointed boat in your hand. If you fall on it you'll get