While Mrs. Perkins was sweeping the front walk with the old broom, Amy was eating breakfast in the kitchen. Jean sat and watched her eat. The little blue broom leaned against the table.

“You ought to train Wispy to come when you whistle,” Jean said. “Then you wouldn’t always have to look for her.”

“What about it, Wispy?” Amy asked.

The broom nodded.

The girls heard the front door open. Mrs. Perkins had finished her sweeping and was coming back into the house.

“Quick, Wispy, go back to the laundry room,” Amy said. “And when I whistle, come as fast as you can.”

The broom flew down the basement stairs.

Amy’s mother walked into the kitchen. “I have to clean the house. It will be easier for me if there’s no one around. Why don’t you two go for a picnic?”

“I’ll have to ask Mom.” Jean got up from the table and went through the house to the front door. “See you later, Amy,” she called.

Jean lived right across the street. It wasn’t long before she was back again. Mrs. Perkins was getting ready to make sandwiches.

“Mom says it’s okay,” Jean said. “She told me to try not to get my feet wet.”

Mrs. Perkins laughed. “You fell in the lake last time you and Amy went to Prospect Park.” She began to slice up the end of a roast of beef. “Hand me the box of sandwich bags, please, Jean.” She pointed to the kitchen cabinet. “It’s on the second shelf, next to the jar of honey.”

Amy found a string bag to pack the lunch in. It had handles that she could loop over her arm. She looked in the refrigerator. “Mother, may we take a couple of cans of cherry soda?”

“Just be sure you don’t leave the poptops around.” Mrs. Perkins went to the sink to wash four peaches.

When the lunch was ready, the girls packed it in the string bag. Amy ran up to her room to get a sweater. She tied it around her waist.

“What do you need that for?” Jean asked. “It’s hot today.”

Amy remembered how cold she had been in her dream last night. “We don’t know where we’re going,” she said. “You’d better get a sweater too.”

Jean ran home to get one. Amy waited until her mother went upstairs with a pail of water. Then she gave a whistle. She heard a crash. Wispy had knocked over a chair as she flew through the dining room.

Amy opened the front door. The broom flew out and floated over the front stoop. Jean was just coming up the steps, carrying her red sweater. She climbed up on the broom behind Amy.

Amy gave the blue bristles a pat. “Take us for a ride, Wispy.”