“Oh, yo’ won’t be in mah way, honey-lamb!” said the loving old colored woman.  “Jest make yo’se’f right t’ home.”

Nan got from the pantry the eggs, the flour, the sugar, and the other things that were needed to make a sponge cake.  Then when she had the brown bowl ready in which the cake batter would be mixed she sat down on a high stool at the table, with Flossie on one side and Freddie on the other.

“Now, Flossie, you hand me an egg,” said Nan, and Flossie picked one up from the dish.  She was handing it over to her sister, but her chubby fingers slipped and—­crack! went the egg down on the floor, breaking, of course.

“Oh dear!” cried Flossie.  “Now the cake is spoiled!”

“Oh, no, not because one egg is broken,” said Nan.  “But still we must be more careful.  Perhaps I had better handle the eggs myself.”

“You had if you want any cake,” called Bert, looking in through the window on his way to play ball with Ned Barton and Charley Mason.

“Oh, I guess we’ll make out all right,” laughed Nan.  She broke the eggs into the dish, and then she let Flossie and Freddie take turns in handing her the flour, sugar, and other things she needed; things that could not be broken if little hands dropped them.  But nothing more was dropped, though Nan herself did spill a little flour on the floor.

“Is this batter right now, Dinah?” Nan asked, when she had stirred up the cake mixture with a long spoon.  The cook looked in the brown bowl.

“Jest a leetle mo’ flour,” she said, “den it’ll be stiff enough an’ ready fo’ de oven.  An’ after it’s baked yo’ kin mix up de sugar-icin’ t’ go on de top.”

Nan stirred in more flour and then poured the batter into a pan to be baked in the oven of the stove.  She carried the pan carefully across the kitchen.

“Don’t fall and spill it,” called Flossie.

“I’ll try not to,” Nan said.

Just then into the kitchen with a rush came Snap.  He saw Nan with a pan in her hands, and he must have thought she had something for him to eat, for with a joyful bark he made straight for her.

“Oh, hold him back!  Don’t let him come near me or I’ll spill my cake before it’s baked!” cried Nan.  “Hold Snap, Flossie—­Freddie!”

“We will!” cried the smaller twins.

Both of them made a rush for Snap, and caught him by the collar.  But the dog thought this was some funny game, and, wagging his tail, he pulled the two children across the slippery oilcloth of the kitchen floor.

“Hold him back!  Hold him!” begged Nan.  She was almost at the oven now.  If she could get the cake safely in it she would be all right, for Snap would not go near the stove.

“We—­we can’t hold him!” panted Freddie.  “He’s pulling us too—­too hard!”

Snap, indeed, was dragging the little Bobbsey twins right across the room toward Nan, who was moving slowly toward the stove.  She could not move fast for fear of spilling the cake batter, or dropping the pan.