Spinning-Wheel Stories

  THE COOKING CLASS

  A young girl in a little cap and a big apron sat poring over acook-book, with a face full of the deepest anxiety. She had the kitchento herself, for mamma was out for the day, cook was off duty, and Edithcould mess to her heart's content. She belonged to a cooking-class, themembers of which were to have a lunch at two P. M. with the girl nextdoor; and now the all absorbing question was, what to make. Turning thepages of the well-used book, she talked to herself as the variousreceipts met her eye.

  "Lobster-salad and chicken-croquettes I've had, and neither were verygood. Now I want to distinguish myself by something very nice. I'd try ameat-porcupine or a mutton-duck if there was time; but they are fussy,and ought to be rehearsed before given to the class. Bavarian creamneeds berries and whipped cream, and I _won't_ tire my arms beatingeggs. Apricots _a la_ Neige is an easy thing and wholesome, but thegirls won't like it, I know, as well as some rich thing that will makethem ill, as Carrie's plum-pudding did. A little meat dish is best forlunch. I'd try sweetbreads and bacon, if I didn't hate to burn my faceand scent my clothes, frying. Birds are elegant; let me see if I can dolarded grouse. No, I don't like to touch that cold, fat stuff. Howmortified Ella was, when she had birds on toast and forgot to draw them.I shouldn't make such a blunder as that, I do hope. Potted pigeons--thevery thing! Had that in our last lesson, but the girls are all crazyabout puff-paste, so they won't try pigeons. Why didn't I think of it atonce?--for we've got them in the house, and don't want them to-day,mamma being called away. All ready too; so nice! I do detest to pick andclean birds. 'Simmer from one to three hours.' Plenty of time. I'll doit! I'll do it! La, la, la!"

  And away skipped Edith in high spirits, for she did not love to cook,yet wished to stand well with the class, some members of which were veryambitious, and now and then succeeded with an elaborate dish, more bygood luck than skill.

  Six plump birds were laid out on a platter, with their legs folded inthe most pathetic manner; these Edith bore away in triumph to thekitchen, and opening the book before her went to work energetically,resigning herself to frying the pork and cutting up the onion, which shehad overlooked when hastily reading the receipt. In time they werestuffed, the legs tied down to the tails, the birds browned in thestew-pan, and put to simmer with a pinch of herbs.

  "Now I can clear up, and rest a bit. If I ever have to work for a livingI _won't_ be a cook," said Edith, with a sigh of weariness as shewashed her dishes, wondering how there could be so many; for no carelessIrish girl would have made a greater clutter over this small job thanthe young lady who had not yet learned one of the most important thingsthat a cook should know.

  The bell rang just as she got done, and was planning to lie and rest onthe dining-room sofa till it was time to take up her pigeons.

  "Tell whoever it is that I'm engaged," she whispered, as the maidpassed, on her way to the door.

  "It's your cousin, miss, from the country, and she has a trunk with her.Of course she's to come in?" asked Maria, coming back in a moment.

  "Oh, dear me! I forgot all about Patty. Mamma said any day this week,and this is the most inconvenient one of the seven. Of course, she mustcome in. Go and tell her I'll be there in a minute," answered Edith, toowell bred not to give even an unwelcome guest a kindly greeting.

  Whisking off cap and apron, and taking a last look at the birds, justbeginning to send forth a savory steam, she went to meet her cousin.

  Patty was a rosy, country lass of sixteen, plainly dressed and rathershy, but a sweet, sensible little body, with a fresh, rustic air whichmarked her for a field-flower at once.

  "How do you do, dear? so sorry mamma is away; called to a sick friend ina hurry. But I'm here and glad to see you. I've an engagement at two,and you shall go with me. It's only a lunch close by, just a party ofgirls; I'll tell you about it upstairs."

  Chatting away, Edith led Patty up to the pretty room ready for her, andsoon both were laughing over a lively account of the exploits of thecooking-class. Suddenly, in the midst of the cream-pie which had beenher great success, and nearly the death of all who partook thereof,Edith paused, sniffed the air like a hound, and crying tragically, "Theyare burning! They are burning!" rushed down stairs as if the house wason fire.

  Much alarmed, Patty hurried after her, guided to the kitchen by thesound of lamentation. There she found Edith hanging over a stew-pan,with anguish in her face and despair in her voice, as she breathlesslyexplained the cause of her flight.

  "My pigeons! Are they burnt? Do smell and tell me? After all my troubleI shall be heart-broken if they are spoilt."

  Both pretty noses sniffed and sniffed again as the girls bent over thepan, regardless of the steam which was ruining their crimps andreddening their noses. Reluctantly, Patty owned that a slight flavor ofscorch did pervade the air, but suggested that a touch more seasoningwould conceal the sad fact.

  "I'll try it. Did you ever do any? Do you love to cook? Don't you wantto make something to carry? It would please the girls, and make up formy burnt mess," said Edith, as she skimmed the broth and added pepperand salt with a lavish hand:--

  "I don't know anything about pigeons, except to feed and pet them. Wedon't eat ours. I can cook plain dishes, and make all kinds of bread.Would biscuit or tea-cake do?"

  Patty looked so pleased at the idea of contributing to the feast, thatEdith could not bear to tell her that hot biscuit and tea-cake were notjust the thing for a city lunch. She accepted the offer, and Patty fellto work so neatly and skilfully that, by the time the pigeons were done,two pans full of delicious little biscuit were baked, and, folded in anice napkin, lay ready to carry off in the porcelain plate with a wreathof roses painted on it.

  In spite of all her flavoring, the burnt odor and taste still lingeredround Edith's dish; but fondly hoping no one would perceive it, shedressed hastily, gave Patty a touch here and there, and set forth at theappointed time to Augusta's lunch.

  Six girls belonged to this class, and the rule was for each to bring hercontribution and set it on the table prepared to receive them all; then,when the number was complete, the covers were raised, the dishesexamined, eaten (if possible), and pronounced upon, the prize beingawarded to the best. The girl at whose house the lunch was givenprovided the prize, and they were often both pretty and valuable.

  On this occasion a splendid bouquet of Jaqueminot roses in a lovely vaseornamented the middle of the table, and the eyes of all restedadmiringly upon it, as the seven girls gathered round, after depositingtheir dishes.

  Patty had been kindly welcomed, and soon forgot her shyness in wonder atthe handsome dresses, graceful manners, and lively gossip of the girls.A pleasant, merry set, all wearing the uniform of the class, daintywhite aprons and coquettish caps with many-colored ribbons, like stagemaid-servants. At the sound of a silver bell, each took her place beforethe covered dish which bore her name, and when Augusta said, "Ladies, wewill begin," off went napkins, silver covers, white paper, or whateverhid the contribution from longing eyes. A moment of deep silence, whilequick glances took in the prospect, and then a unanimous explosion oflaughter followed; for six platters of potted pigeons stood upon theboard, with nothing but the flowers to break the ludicrous monotony ofthe scene.

  How they laughed! for a time they could do nothing else, because if onetried to explain she broke down and joined in the gale of merrimentagain quite helplessly. One or two got hysterical and cried as well aslaughed, and all made such a noise that Augusta's mamma peeped in to seewhat was the matter. Six agitated hands pointed to the comical sight onthe table, which looked as if a flight of potted pigeons had alightedthere, and six breathless voices cried in a chorus: "Isn't it funny?Don't tell!"

  Much amused, the good lady retired to enjoy the joke alone, while theexhausted girls wiped their eyes and began to talk, all at once. Such aclatter! but out of it all Patty evolved the fact that each meant tosurprise the rest,--and they certainly had.

  "I tried puff-paste," said Augusta, fanning her hot face.
br />   "So did I," cried the others.

  "And it was a dead failure."

  "So was mine," echoed the voices.

  "Then I thought I'd do the other dish we had that day--"

  "Just what I did."

  "Feeling sure you would all try the pastry, and perhaps get on betterthan I."

  "Exactly our case," and a fresh laugh ended this general confession.

  "Now we must eat our pigeons, as we have nothing else, and it is againstthe rule to add from outside stores. I propose that we each pass ourdish round; then we can all criticise it, and so get some good out ofthis very funny lunch."

  Augusta's plan was carried out; and all being hungry after their unusualexertions, the girls fell upon the unfortunate birds like so manyfamished creatures. The first one went very well, but when the disheswere passed again, each taster looked at it anxiously; for none werevery good, there was nothing to fall back upon, and variety is the spiceof life, as every one knows.

  "Oh, for a slice of bread," sighed one damsel.

  "Why didn't we think of it?" asked another.

  "I did, but we always have so much cake I thought it was foolish to layin rolls," exclaimed Augusta, rather mortified at the neglect.

  "I expected to have to taste six pies, and one doesn't want bread withpastry, you know."

  As Edith spoke she suddenly remembered Patty's biscuit, which had beenleft on the side-table by their modest maker, as there seemed to be noroom for them.

  Rejoicing now over the rather despised dish, Edith ran to get it, sayingas she set it in the middle, with a flourish:--

  "My cousin's contribution. She came so late we only had time for that.So glad I took the liberty of bringing her and them."

  A murmur of welcome greeted the much-desired addition to the feast,which would have been a decided failure without it, and the pretty platewent briskly round, till nothing was left but the painted roses in it.With this help the best of the potted pigeons were eaten, while a livelydiscussion went on about what they would have next time.

  "Let us each tell our dish, and not change. We shall never learn if wedon't keep to one thing till we do it well. I will choose mince-pie, andbring a good one, if it takes me all the week to do it," said Edith,heroically taking the hardest thing she could think of, to encourage theothers.

  Fired by this noble example, each girl pledged herself to do or die, anda fine list of rich dishes was made out by these ambitious young cooks.Then a vote of thanks to Patty was passed, her biscuit unanimouslypronounced the most successful contribution, and the vase presented tothe delighted girl, whose blushes were nearly as deep as the color ofthe flowers behind which she tried to hide them.

  Soon after this ceremony the party broke up, and Edith went home to tellthe merry story, proudly adding that the country cousin had won theprize.

  "You rash child, to undertake mince-pie. It is one of the hardest thingsto make, and about the most unwholesome when eaten. Read the receipt andsee what you have pledged yourself to do, my dear," said her mother,much amused at the haps and mishaps of the cooking-class.

  Edith opened her book and started bravely off at "Puff-paste;" but bythe time she had come to the end of the three pages devoted todirections for the making of that indigestible delicacy, her face wasvery sober, and when she read aloud the following receipt for themince-meat, despair slowly settled upon her like a cloud.

  One cup chopped meat; 1-1/2 cups raisins; 1-1/2 cups currants; 1-1/2 cups brown sugar; 1-1/3 cups molasses; 3 cups chopped apples; 1 cup meat liquor; 2 teaspoonfuls salt; 2 teaspoonfuls cinnamon; 1/2 teaspoonful mace; 1/2 teaspoonful powdered cloves; 1 lemon, grated; 1/4 piece citron, sliced; 1/2 cup brandy; 1/4 cup wine; 3 teaspoonfuls rosewater.

  "Oh me, what a job! I shall have to work at it every day till nextSaturday, for the paste alone will take all the wits I've got. I _was_rash, but I spoke without thinking, and wanted to do something reallyfine. We can't be shown about things, so I must blunder along as well asI can," groaned Edith.

  "I can help about the measuring and weighing, and chopping. I alwayshelp mother at Thanksgiving time, and she makes splendid pies. We onlyhave mince then, as she thinks it's bad for us," said Patty, full ofsympathy and good will.

  "What are you to take to the lunch?" asked Edith's mother, smiling ather daughter's mournful face, bent over the fatal book full of daintymesses, that tempted the unwary learner to her doom.

  "Only coffee. I can't make fancy things, but my coffee is always good.They said they wanted it, so I offered."

  "I will have my pills and powders ready, for if you all go on at thisrate you will need a dose of some sort after your lunch. Give yourorders, Edith, and devote your mind to the task. I wish you good luckand good digestion, my dears."

  With that the mamma left the girls to cheer one another, and lay plansfor a daily lesson till the perfect pie was made.

  They certainly did their best, for they began on Monday, and eachmorning through the week went to the mighty task with daily increasingcourage and skill. They certainly needed the former, for evengood-natured Nancy got tired of having "the young ladies messing roundso much," and looked cross as the girls appeared in the kitchen.

  Edith's brothers laughed at the various failures which appeared attable, and dear mamma was tired of tasting pastry and mince-meat in allstages of progression. But the undaunted damsels kept on till Saturdaycame, and a very superior pie stood ready to be offered for theinspection of the class.

  "I never want to see another," said Edith, as the girls dressedtogether, weary, but well satisfied with their labor; for the pie hadbeen praised by all beholders, and the fragrance of Patty's coffeefilled the house, as it stood ready to be poured, hot and clear, intothe best silver pot, at the last moment.

  "Well, I feel as if I'd lived in a spice mill this week, or apastry-cook's kitchen; and I am glad we are done. Your brothers won'tget any pie for a long while I guess, if it depends on you," laughedPatty, putting on the new ribbons her cousin had given her.

  "When Florence's brothers were here last night, I heard those rascalsmaking all sorts of fun of us, and Alf said we ought to let them come tolunch. I scorned the idea, and made their mouths water telling about thegood things we were going to have," said Edith, exulting over the severeremarks she had made to these gluttonous young men, who adored pie, yetjeered at unfortunate cooks.

  Florence, the lunch-giver of the week, had made her table pretty with aposy at each place, put the necessary roll in each artistically foldednapkin, and hung the prize from the gas burner,--a large blue satin bagfull of the most delicious bonbons money could buy. There was some delayabout beginning, as one distracted cook sent word that her potato-puffs_wouldn't_ brown, and begged them to wait for her. So they adjourned tothe parlor, and talked till the flushed, but triumphant Ella arrivedwith the puffs in fine order.

  When all was ready, and the covers raised, another surprise awaitedthem; not a merry one, like the last, but a very serious affair, whichproduced domestic warfare in two houses at least. On each dish lay acard bearing a new name for these carefully prepared delicacies. Themince-pie was re-christened "Nightmare," veal cutlets "Dyspepsia,"escalloped lobster "Fits," lemon sherbet "Colic," coffee "Palpitation,"and so on, even to the pretty sack of confectionery which was labelled"Toothache."

  Great was the indignation of the insulted cooks, and a general cry of"Who did it?" arose. The poor maid who waited on them declared withtears that not a soul had been in, and she herself only absent fiveminutes getting the ice-water. Florence felt that her guests had beenoutraged, and promised to find out the wretch, and punish him or her inthe most terrible manner. So the irate young ladies ate their lunchbefore it cooled, but forgot to criticise the dishes, so full were theyof wonder at this daring deed. They were just beginning to calm down,when a loud sneeze caused a general rush toward the sofa that stood in arecess of the dining room. A small boy, nearly suffocated withsuppressed laughter, and dust, was dragged forth and put on tr
ialwithout a moment's delay. Florence was judge, the others jury, and theunhappy youth being penned in a corner, was ordered to tell the truth,the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, on penalty of a soundwhipping with the big Japanese war-fan that hung on the wall over hishead.

  Vainly trying to suppress his giggles, Phil faced the seven ladies likea man, and told as little as possible, delighting to torment them, likea true boy.

  "Do you know who put those cards there?"

  "Don't you wish _you_ did?"

  "Phil Gordon, answer at once."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Was it Alf? He's at home Saturdays, and it's just like a horrid HarvardSoph to plague us so."

  "It was--not."

  "Did you see it done?"

  "I did."

  "Man, or woman? Mary fibs, and may have been bribed."

  "Man," with a chuckle of great glee.

  "Do I know him?"

  "Oh, don't you!"

  "Edith's brother Rex?"

  "No, ma'am."

  "Do be a good boy, and tell us. We won't scold, though it was a very,very rude thing to do."

  "What will you give me?"

  "Do you need to be bribed to do your duty?"

  "Well, I guess it's no fun to hide in that stuffy place, and smell nicegrub, and see you tuck away without offering a fellow a taste. Give me agood go at the lunch, and I'll see what I can do for you."

  "Boys are such pigs! Shall we, girls?"

  "Yes, we _must_ know."

  "Then go and stuff, you bad boy, but we shall stand guard over you tillyou tell us who wrote and put those insulting cards here."

  Florence let out the prisoner, and stood by him while he ate, in asurprisingly short time, the best of everything on the table, wellknowing that such a rare chance would not soon be his again.

  "Now give me some of that candy, and I'll tell," demanded the youngShylock, bound to make the best of his power while it lasted.

  "Did you ever see such a little torment? I can't give the nice bonbons,because we haven't decided who is to have them."

  "Never mind. Pick out a few and get rid of him," cried the girls,hovering round their prey, and longing to shake the truth out of him.

  A handful of sweeties were reluctantly bestowed, and then all waited forthe name of the evil-doer with breathless interest.

  "Well," began Phil, with exasperating slowness, "Alf wrote the cards,and gave me half a dollar to put 'em round. Made a nice thing of it,haven't I?" and before one of the girls could catch him he had boltedfrom the room, with one hand full of candy, the other of mince-pie, andhis face shining with the triumphant glee of a small boy who has teasedseven big girls, and got the better of them.

  What went on just after that is not recorded, though Phil peeped in atthe windows, hooted through the slide, and beat a tattoo on the variousdoors. The opportune arrival of his mother sent him whooping down thestreet, and the distressed damsels finished their lunch with whatappetite they could.

  Edith got the prize, for her pie was pronounced a grand success, andpartaken of so copiously that several young ladies had reason to thinkit well named "Nightmare" by the derisive Alfred. Emboldened by hersuccess, Edith invited them all to her house on the next Saturday, andsuggested that she and her cousin provide the lunch, as they had somenew dishes to offer, not down in the receipt-book they had been studyingall winter.

  As the ardor of the young cooks was somewhat damped by various failures,and the discovery that good cooking is an art not easily learned,anything in the way of novelty was welcome; and the girls gladlyaccepted the invitation, feeling a sense of relief at the thought of nothaving any dish to worry about, though not one of them owned that shewas tired of "messing," as the disrespectful boys called it.

  It was unanimously decided to wither with silent scorn the audaciousAlfred and his ally, Rex, while Phil was to be snubbed by his sistertill he had begged pardon for his share of the evil deed. Then, havingsweetened their tongues and tempers with the delicious bonbons, thegirls departed, feeling that the next lunch would be an event of unusualinterest.

  The idea of it originated in a dinner which Patty got one day, whenNancy, who wanted a holiday, was unexpectedly called away to the funeralof a cousin,--the fifth relative who had died in a year, such was themortality in the jovial old creature's family. Edith's mother was verybusy with a dressmaker, and gladly accepted the offer the girls made toget dinner alone.

  "No fancy dishes, if you please; the boys come in as hungry as hunters,and want a good solid meal; so get something wholesome and plain, andplenty of it," was the much-relieved lady's only suggestion, as sheretired to the sewing-room and left the girls to keep house in their ownway.

  "Now, Edie, you be the mistress and give your orders, and I'll be cook.Only have things that go well together,--not all baked or all boiled,because there isn't room enough on the range, you know;" said Patty,putting on a big apron with an air of great satisfaction; for she lovedto cook, and was tired of doing nothing.

  "I'll watch all you do, and learn; so that the next time Nancy goes offin a hurry, I can take her place, and not have to give the boys whatthey hate,--a picked-up dinner," answered Edith, pleased with her part,yet a little mortified to find how few plain things she could make well.

  "What do the boys like?" asked Patty, longing to please them, for theyall were very kind to her.

  "Roast beef, and custard pudding, with two or three kinds of vegetables.Can we do all that?"

  "Yes, indeed. I'll make the pudding right away, and have it baked beforethe meat goes in. I can cook as many vegetables as you please, and souptoo."

  So the order was given and all went well, if one might judge by thesounds of merriment in the kitchen. Patty made her best gingerbread,and cooked some apples with sugar and spice for tea, and at the strokeof two had a nice dinner smoking on the table, to the great contentmentof the hungry boys, who did eat like hunters, and advised mamma to sendold Nancy away and keep Patty for cook; which complimentary but rashproposal pleased their cousin very much.

  "Now this is useful cookery, and well done, though it looks so simple.Any girl can learn how and be independent of servants, if need be. Dropyour class, Edith, and take a few lessons of Patty. That would suit mebetter than French affairs, that are neither economical nor wholesome."

  "I will, mamma, for I'm tired of creaming butter, larding things, andbeating eggs. These dishes are not so elegant, but we must have them; soI may as well learn, if Pat will teach me."

  "With pleasure, all I know. Mother thinks it a very important part of agirl's education; for if you can't keep servants you can do your ownwork well, and if you are rich you are not so dependent as an ignorantlady is. All kinds of useful sewing and housework come first with us,and the accomplishments afterward, as time and money allow."

  "That sort of thing turns out the kind of girl I like, and so does everysensible fellow. Good luck to you, cousin, and my best thanks for acapital dinner and a wise little lecture for dessert."

  Rex made his best bow as he left the table, and Patty colored high withpleasure at the praise of the tall collegian.

  Out of this, and the talk the ladies had afterward, grew the lunch whichEdith proposed, and to the preparation of which went much thought andcare; for the girls meant to have many samples of country fare, so thatvarious tastes might be pleased. The plan gradually grew as they worked,and a little surprise was added, which was a great success.

  When Saturday came the younger boys were all packed off for a holiday inthe country, that the coast might be clear.

  "No hiding under sofas in my house, no meddling with my dinner, if youplease, gentlemen," said Edith, as she saw the small brothers safelyoff, and fell to work with Patty and the maid to arrange the dining-roomto suit the feast about to be spread there.

  As antique furniture is the fashion now-a-days, it was easy to collectall the old tables, chairs, china, and ornaments in the house, and makea pleasant place of the sunny room where a tall clock always s
tood; anddamask hangings a century old added much to the effect. A massivemahogany table was set forth with ancient silver, glass, china, and allsorts of queer old salt-cellars, pepper-pots, pickle-dishes, knives, andspoons. High-backed chairs stood round it, and the guests were receivedby a very pretty old lady in plum-colored satin, with a muslin pelerine,and a large lace cap most becoming to the rosy face it surrounded. A fatwatch ticked in the wide belt, mitts covered the plump hands, and areticule hung at the side. Madam's daughter, in a very short-waistedpink silk gown, muslin apron, and frill, was even prettier than hermother, for her dark, curly hair hung on her shoulders, and a little capwas stuck on the top, with long pink streamers. Her mitts went to theelbow, and a pink sash was tied in a large bow behind. Black satin shoescovered her feet, and a necklace of gold beads was round her throat.

  Great was the pleasure this little surprise gave the girls, and gay wasthe chatter that went on as they were welcomed by the hostesses, whoconstantly forgot their parts. Madam frisked now and then, and "PrettyPeggy" was so anxious about dinner that she was not as devoted to hercompany as a well-bred young lady should be. But no one minded, and whenthe bell rang, all gathered about the table eager to see what the feastwas to be.

  "Ladies, we have endeavored to give you a taste of some of the good olddishes rather out of fashion now," said Madam, standing at her place,with a napkin pinned over the purple dress, and a twinkle in the blueeyes under the wide cap-frills. "We thought it would be well tointroduce some of them to the class and to our family cooks, who eitherscorn the plain dishes, or don't know how to cook them _well_. There isa variety, and we hope all will find something to enjoy. Peggy, uncover,and let us begin."

  At first the girls looked a little disappointed, for the dishes were notvery new to them; but when they tasted a real "boiled dinner," and foundhow good it was; also baked beans, neither hard, greasy, nor burnt;beefsteak, tender, juicy, and well flavored; potatoes, mealy in spite ofthe season; Indian pudding, made as few modern cooks know how to do it;brown bread, with home-made butter; and pumpkin-pie that cut like wedgesof vegetable gold,--they changed their minds, and began to eat withappetites that would have destroyed their reputations as delicate youngladies, if they had been seen. Tea in egg-shell cups, election-cake andcream-cheese with fruit ended the dinner; and as they sat admiring thetiny old spoons, the crisp cake, and the little cheeses like snow-balls,Edith said, in reply to various compliments paid her:--

  "Let us give honor where honor is due. Patty suggested this, and didmost of the cooking; so thank her, and borrow her receipt-book. It'svery funny, ever so old, copied and tried by her grandmother, and fullof directions for making quantities of nice things, from pie like thisto a safe, sure wash for the complexion. May-dew, rose-leaves, andlavender,--doesn't that sound lovely?"

  "Let me copy it," cried several girls afflicted with freckles, or sallowwith too much coffee and confectionery.

  "Yes, indeed. But I was going to say, as we have no prize to-day, wehave prepared a little souvenir of our old-fashioned dinner for each ofyou. Bring them, daughter; I hope the ladies will pardon the homelinessof the offering, and make use of the hint that accompanies each."

  As Edith spoke, with a comical mingling of the merry girl and thestately old lady she was trying to personate, Patty brought from theside-board, where it had stood covered up, a silver salver on which layfive dainty little loaves of bread; on the top of each appeared areceipt for making the same, nicely written on colored cards, and heldin place by a silver scarf-pin.

  "How cunning!" "What lovely pins!" "I'll take the hint and learn to makegood bread at once." "It smells as sweet as a nut, and isn't hard orheavy a bit." "Such a pretty idea, and so clever of you to carry it outso well."

  These remarks went on as the little loaves went round, each girl findingher pin well suited to her pet fancy or foible; for all were different,and all very pretty, whether the design was a palette, a skate, a pen, aracquet, a fan, a feather, a bar of music, or a daisy.

  Seeing that her dinner was a success in spite of its homeliness, Edithadded the last surprise, which had also been one to Patty and herselfwhen it arrived, just in time to be carried out. She forgot to be Madamnow, and said with a face full of mingled merriment and satisfaction, asshe pushed her cap askew and pulled off her mitts:

  "Girls, the best joke of all is, that Rex and Alf sent the pins, andmade Phil bring them with a most humble apology for their impertinencelast week. A meeker boy I never saw, and for that we may thank Floy; butI think the dinner Pat and I got the other day won Rex's heart, so thathe made Alf eat humble pie in this agreeable manner. We won't sayanything about it, but all wear our pins and show the boys that we canforgive and forget as "sweet girls" should, though we do cook and haveideas of our own beyond looking pretty and minding our older brothers."

  "We will!" cried the chorus with one voice, and Florence added:--

  "I also propose that when we have learned to make something beside'kickshaws,' as the boys call our fancy dishes, we have a dinner likethis, and invite those rascals to it; which will be heaping coals offire on their heads, and stopping their mouths forevermore from makingjokes about our cooking-class."