But this time they seemed to have tossed their books and straps into
some very much out-of-the-way place, indeed.

"We can't find 'em," said Flossie. "Can't you take some strong string,
to tie Snap to the wagon, instead of the straps, Freddie?"

"I don't think so," he answered. "I know what to do. Let's ask Dinah.
Maybe she's seen 'em."

"Oh, yes, let's!" agreed Flossie, and together they hurried to the
kitchen where Dinah, the big, good-natured, colored cook, was rattling
the pots and pans.

"Dinah! Dinah!" cried Flossie and Freddie in a twins' chorus.

"Yep-um, honey-lambs! What yo' all want?" asked Dinah, opening the
oven door, to let out a little whiff of a most delicious smell, and
then quickly closing it again. "Ef yo' wants a piece ob cake, it ain't
done yit!"

"Oh, Dinah! We don't want any cake!" said Freddie.

"What's dat? Yo' don't want cake?" and Dinah quickly straightened up,
put her fat hands on her fat hips, and looked at the two children in
surprise. "Yo--don't--want--no cake!" gasped Dinah. "What's de mattah?
Yo' all ain't sick, is yo'?"

For that was the only reason she could think of why Flossie and
Freddie should not want cake--as they generally did Saturday morning.