Bert was indeed a twin, not only because he was the same age as Nan, but because he looked so very much like her. To be sure, he looked like a boy, while she looked like a girl, but he had the same dark complexion, the same brown eyes and hair, and his voice was very much the same, only stronger. Freddie and Flossie were just the opposite of their larger brother and sister. Each was short and stout, with a fair, round face, light-blue eyes and fluffy golden hair. Sometimes Papa Bobbsey called Flossie his little Fat Fairy, which always made her laugh. But Freddie didn't want to be called a fairy, so his papa called him the Fat Fireman, which pleased him very much, and made him rush around the house shouting: "Fire! fire! Clear the track for Number Two! Play away, boys, play away!" in a manner that seemed very lifelike. During the past year Freddie had seen two fires, and the work of the firemen had interested him deeply. The Bobbsey family lived in the large town of Lakeport, situated at the head of Lake Metoka, a clear and beautiful sheet of water upon which the twins loved to go boating. Mr. Richard Bobbsey was a lumber merchant, with a large yard and docks on the lake shore, and a saw and planing mill close by. The house was a quarter of a mile away, on a fashionable street and had a small but nice garden around it, and a barn in the rear, in which the children loved at times to play. "I'm going to cut out a fancy table cover for my parlor table," said Nan. "It's going to be the finest table cover that ever was." "Nice as Aunt Emily's?" questioned Bert. "She's got a--a dandy, all worked in roses." "This is going to be white, like the lace window curtains," replied Nan. While Freddie and Flossie watched her with deep interest, she took a small square of tissue paper and folded it up several times. Then she cut curious-looking holes in the folded piece with a sharp pair of scissors. When the paper was unfolded once more a truly beautiful pattern appeared. "Oh, how lubby!" screamed Flossie. "Make me one, Nan!" "And me, too," put in Freddie. "I want a real red one," and he brought forth a bit of red pin-wheel paper he had been saving. "Oh, Freddie, let me have the red paper for my stairs," cried Bert, who had had his eyes on the sheet for some time. "No, I want a table cover, like Nanny. You take the white paper." "Whoever saw white paper on a stairs--I mean white carpet," said Flossie. "I'll give you a marble for the paper, Freddie," continued Bert. But Freddie shook his head. "Want a table cover, nice as Aunt Em'ly," he answered. "Going to set a flower on the table too!" he added, and ran out of the room. When he came back he had a flower-pot in his hand half the size of his house, with a duster feather stuck in the dirt, for a flower. "Well, I declare!" cried Nan, and burst out laughing. "Oh, Freddie, how will we ever set that on such a little pasteboard table?"