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Today we'll be continuing little Men by Louisa May Alcott.

Chapter Five patty Pans.

What's the matter, Daisy?

The boys won't let me play with them.

Why not?

They say girls can't play football.

They can, for I've done it.

And Mrs.

Bear laughed at the remembrance of certain youthful frolics.

I know I can play.

Demi and I used to and have nice times, but he won't let me now because the other boys laugh at him.

And Daisy looked deeply grieved at her brother's hardness of heart.

On the whole, I think he it's.

Right, dearie.

It's all very well when you two are alone, but it is too rough a game for you with a dozen boys, so I'd find some nice little play for myself.

I'm tired of playing alone.

And Daisy's tone was very mournful.

I'll play with you by and by, but just now I must fly about and get things ready for a trip into town.

You shall go with me and see Mama, and if you like, you can stay with her.

I should like to go and see her and baby Josie, but I'd rather come back.

Please.

Demi would miss me and I love to be here.

Auntie, you can't get on without your Demi, can you?

And Aunt Jo looked as if she quite understood the love of the little girl for her only brother.

Course I can't.

We're twins and so we love each other more than other people, answered Daisy with a brightening face, for she considered being a twin one of the highest honors she could ever receive.

Now, what will you do with your little self while I fly around?

Asked Mrs.

Bear, who was whisking piles of linen into a wardrobe with great rapidity.

I don't know.

I'm tired of dolls and things.

I wish you'd make up a new play for me, Auntie Joe, said Daisy, swinging listlessly on the door.

I shall have to think of a brand new one, and it will take me some time.

So suppose you go down and see what Asia's got for your lunch, suggested Mrs.

Bear, thinking that would be a good way in which to dispose of the little hindrance for a time.

Yes, I think I'd like that.

If she isn't cross, daisy slowly departed to the kitchen, where Asia the black cook reigned undisturbed.

In 5 minutes, Daisy was back again with a wide awake face, a bit of dough in her hand, and a dab of flour on her little nose.

Oh, Auntie, please, could I go and make ginger snaps and things?

Asia isn't cross, and she says I may, and it would be such fun.

Please do, cried Daisy, all in one breath.

Just the thing.

Go and welcome.

Make what you like and stay as long as you please, answered Mrs.

Bear, much relieved, for sometimes the one little girl was harder to amuse than the dozen boys.

Daisy ran off, and while she worked, aunt Joe racked her brain for a new play.

All of a sudden she seemed to have an idea, for she smiled to herself, slammed the doors of the wardrobe, and walked briskly away, saying, I'll do it if it's a possible thing.

What it was.

No one found out that day, but Aunt Jo's eyes twinkled, so when she told Daisy she had thought of a new play and was going to buy it, that Daisy was much excited and asked questions all the way into town without getting answers that told her anything.

She was left at home to play with the new baby and to light her mother's eyes while Aunt Joe went off shopping.

When she came back with all sorts of queer parcels and corners of the carry all.

Daisy was so full of curiosity that she wanted to go back to Plumfield at once, but her aunt would not be hurried and made a long call in Mama's room, sitting on the floor with baby in her lap, making Mrs.

Brooke laugh at the pranks of the boys and all sorts of droll nonsense.

How her aunt told the secret, Daisy could not imagine, but her mother evidently knew it, for she said, as she tied on the little bonnet and kissed the rosy little face inside, be a good child, my Daisy, and learn the nice new play Auntie has got for you.

It's a most useful and interesting one, and it is very kind of her to play it with you because she does not like it very well herself.

The last speech made the two ladies laugh heartily and increased Daisy's bewilderment as they drove away.

Something ratled in the back of the carriage.

What's that?

Asked Daisy, pricking up her ears.

The new play?

Answered Mrs.

Jo solemnly.

What is it made of?

Cried Daisy.

Iron, tin, wood, brass, sugar, salt, coal, and a hundred other things.

How strange.

What color is it?

All sorts of colors.

Is it large?

Part of it is and part isn't.

Did I ever see one?

Ever so many, but never one so nice as this?

What can it be?

I can't wait.

When shall I see it?

Daisy bounced up and down with impatience.

Tomorrow morning, after lessons.

Is it for the boys, too?

No, all for you and Bess.

The boys will like to see it and want to play one part of it, but you can do as you like about letting them.

I'll let Demi if he wants to.

No fear that they won't all want to, especially stuffy.

Mrs.

Bear's eyes twinkled more than ever as she patted a queer knobby bundle in her lap.

Let me feel.

Just once, prayed Daisy.

Not a feel.

You'd guess in a minute and spoil the fun.

Daisy groaned and then smiled all over her face, for through a little hole in the paper she caught a glimpse of something bright.

How can I wait so long?

Couldn't I see it today?

Oh, dear, no.

It has got to be arranged and ever so many parts fixed in their places.

I promised Uncle Teddy that you shouldn't see it till it was all in apple pie order.

If uncle knows about it, then it must be splendid, cried Daisy, clapping her hands, for this kind, rich, jolly uncle of hers was as good as a fairy godmother to the children, and was always planning merry surprises, pretty gifts and droll amusements for them.

Yes, Teddy went and bought it with me, and we had such fun in the shop choosing the different parts.

He would have everything fine and large, and my little plan got regularly splendid when he took hold.

You must give him your very best kiss when he comes, for he is the kindest uncle that ever went and bought a charming little coupe.

Bless me.

I nearly told you what it was.

And Mrs.

Bear cut that most interesting word short off in the middle and began to look over her bills, as if afraid she would let the cat out of the bag if she talked anymore.

Daisy folded her hands with an air of resignation and sat quite still, trying to think what play had a coup in it.

When they got home, she eyed every bundle that was taken out, and one large heavy one, which Franz took straight upstairs and hid in the nursery, filled her with amazement and curiosity.

Something very mysterious went on up there that afternoon, for Franz was hammering and Asia trotted up and down and Aunt Jo flying around like a willow, the wisp with all sort of things under her apron, while little Ted, who was the only child, admitted because he couldn't talk plain babbled and laughed and tried to tell what the something pity was.

All this made Daisy half wild, and her excitement spread among the boys, who quite overwhelmed Mother Bear with offers of assistance, which she declined by quoting their own words to Daisy girls can't play with boys.

This is for Daisy and Bess and me, so we don't want you.

Whereupon the young gentleman meekly retired and invited Daisy to a game of marbles horse football, anything she liked, with a sudden warmth and politeness which astonished her innocent little soul.

Thanks to these attention, she got through the afternoon, went early to bed, and next morning did her lessons with an energy which made Uncle Fritz wish that a new game could be invented every day.

Quite a thrill pervaded the schoolroom when Daisy was dismissed at 11:00, for everyone knew that now she was going to have the new and mysterious play.

Many eyes followed her as she ran away, and Demi's mind was so distracted by this event that when Franz asked him where the desert of Sahara was, he mournfully replied, in the nursery.

And the whole school laughed at him.

Aunt Joe, I've done all my lessons and I can't wait one single minute more.

Cried Daisy, flying into Mrs.

Bear's room.

It's already come on.

Tucking Ted under one arm and her work basket under the other, aunt Joe promptly led the way upstairs.

I don't see anything, said Daisy, staring about her.

She got inside the nursery door.

Do you hear anything?

Asked Aunt Joe.

Catching Ted back by his little frock.

As he was making straight for one side of the room, daisy did hear an OD crackling and then a purry little sound as of a kettle singing.

These noises came from behind a curtain drawn before a deep bay window.

Daisy snatched it back, gave one joyful oh, and then stood gazing with delight at what do you think?

A wide seat ran round the three sides of the window.

On one side hung and stood all sorts of little pots and pans grid, irons and skillets.

On the other side, a small dinner and teaset, and on the middle part, a cooking stove.

Not a tin one that was of no use, but a real iron stove, big enough to cook for a large family of very hungry dolls.

But the best of it was that a real fire burned in it.

Real steam came out of the nose of the little tea kettle, and the lid of the little boiler actually danced a jig.

The water inside bubbled so hard a pane of glass had been taken out and replaced by a sheet of tin with a hole for the small funnel, and real smoke went sailing away outside, so naturally that it did one's heart good to see it.

The box of wood with a HOD of charcoal stood nearby.

Just above hung dust pan, brush and broom.

A little market basket was on the low table at which Daisy used to play, and over the back of her little chair hung a white apron with a bib and a droll mob cap.

The sun shone in as if he enjoyed the fun.

The little stove roared beautifully, the kettle steamed, the new tins sparkled on the walls, the pretty china stood in tempting rose, and it was altogether as cheery and complete a kitchen as any child could desire.

Daisy stood quite still after the first glad.

Oh, but her eyes went quickly from one charming object to another, brightening as they looked, till they came to Aunt Joe's merry face.

There they stopped as the happy little girl hugged her, saying gratefully, oh, Auntie, it's a splendid new play.

Can I really cook at the deer stove and have parties and mess and sleep and make fires that truly burn?

I like it so much.

What made you think of it?

Your liking to make ginger snaps with Asia made me think of it, said Mrs Bear, holding Daisy, who frisked as if she would fly.

I knew Asia wouldn't let you mess in her kitchen very often, and it wouldn't be safe at this fire up here, so I thought I'd see if I could find a little stove for you and teach you to cook.

That would be fun and useful too.

So I traveled round among the toy shops, but everything large cost too much, and I was thinking I should have to give it up.

When I met Uncle Teddy.

As soon as he knew what I was about, he said he wanted to help and insisted on buying the biggest toy stove we could find.

I scolded, but he only laughed and teased me about my cooking when we were young, and said I must teach bess as well as you, and went on buying all sorts of nice little things for my cooking class, as he called it.

I'm so glad you met him, said Daisy, as Mrs.

Jo stopped to laugh at the memory of the funny time she had with Uncle Teddy.

You must study hard and learn to make all kinds of things, for he says he shall come out to tea very often and expects something uncommonly nice.

It's the sweetest, dearest kitchen in the world, and I'd rather study with it than do anything else.

Can't I learn pies and cake and macaroni and everything?

Cried Daisy, dancing round the room with a new saucepan in one hand and the tiny poker in the other?

All in good time.

This is to be a useful play.

I'm to help you, and you are to be my cook, so I shall tell you what to do and show you how.

Then we shall have things fit to eat, and you'll be really learning how to cook on a small scale.

I'll call you Sally and say your new girl just come, added Mrs.

Joe, settling down to work while Teddy sat on the floor, sucking his thumb and staring at the stove as if it was a live thing whose appearance deeply interested him.

That will be so lovely.

What shall I do first?

Asked Sally, with such a happy face and willing air that Aunt Joe wished all new cooks were half as pretty and pleasant.

First of all, put on this clean cap and apron.

I am rather old fashioned, and I like my cook to be very tidy.

Sally tucked her curly hair into the round cap and put on the apron without a murmur, though usually she rebelled against bibs.

Now you can put things in order and wash up the new china.

The old set needs washing also, for my last girl was apt to leave it in a sad state after a party.

Aunt Joe spoke quite soberly, but Sally laughed, for she knew who the untidy girl was who had left the cup sticky.

Then she turned up her cuffs and with a sigh of satisfaction began to stir about her kitchen, having little raptures now and then over the sweet rolling pin, the darling dish tub, or the cunning pepper pot.

Now, Sally, take your basket and go to market.

Here's the list of things I want for dinner, said Mrs.

Joe, giving her a bit of paper when the dishes were all in order.

Where is the market?

Asked Daisy, thinking that the new play got more and more interesting every minute.

Asia, is the market.

Away went Sally, causing another stir in the schoolroom as she passed the door in her new costume and whispered to Demi with a face full of delight, it's a perfectly splendid play.

Old Asia enjoyed the joke as much as Daisy and laughed jollily as the little girl came flying into the room with her cap all on one side, the lids of her basket rattling like castanets and looking like a very crazy little cook.

Miss Aunt Joe wants these things and I must have them right away, said Daisy importantly.

Let's see, honey.

Here's two pounds of steak, potatoes, squash, apples, bread and butter.

The meat ain't come yet.

When it does, I'll send it up.

The other things are all handy.

Then Asia packed one potato, one apple, a bit of squash, a little pad of butter and a roll into the basket, telling Sally to be on the watch for the butcher's boy because he sometimes played tricks.

Who is he?

And Daisy hoped it would be Demi, you'll see, was all Asia would say, and Sally went off in great spirits, singing a verse from dear Mary Howet's Sweet story and rhyme.

Away went little Mabel with the wheaton cake so fine the new made pot of butter and a little flask of wine.

Put everything but the apple into the store closet.

For the present, said Mrs Jo.

When the cook got home, there was a cupboard under the middle shelf and on opening the door, fresh delights appeared.

One half was evidently the cellar for wood, coal and kindlings were piled there.

The other half was full of little jars, boxes and all sorts of droll contrivances for holding small quantities of flour, meal, sugar, salt and other household stores.

A pot of jam was there, a little ten box of gingerbread, a cologne bottle full of current wine and a tiny canister of tea.

But the crowning charm was two dolls, pans of new milk with cream actually rising on it, and a wee skimmer already to skim it with.

Daisy clasped her hands at this delicious spectacle and wanted to skim it immediately, but Aunt Joe said, not yet.

You'll want the cream to eat on your apple pie at dinner and must not disturb it till then.

Am I going to have pie?

Cried Daisy, hardly believing that such bliss could be in store for her.

Yes, if your oven does well, we will have two pies, one apple and one strawberry, said Mrs Jo, who was nearly as much interested in the new play as Daisy herself.

Oh, what next?

Asked Sally, all impatience to begin.

Shut the lower draught of the stove so that the oven may heat.

Then wash your hands and get out the flour, sugar, salt, butter and cinnamon.

See if the pie board is clean and pair your apple ready to put it in.

Daisy got things together with his little noise and spilling as could be expected from so young a cook.

I really don't know how to measure for such tiny pies.

I must guess at it.

And if these don't succeed, we must try again, said Mrs Jo, looking rather perplexed and very much amused with the small concern before her.

Take that little pan full of flour, put in a pinch of salt and then rub in as much butter as will go on that plate.

Always remember to put your dry things together first, and then the wet it mixes better so.

I know how I saw Asia do it.

Don't I?

Butter the pie plates too.

She did the first thing, said Daisy, whisking the flour about at a great rate.

Quite right.

I do believe you have a gift for cooking.

You take to it so cleverly, said Aunt Joe approvingly.

Now a dash of cold water, just enough to wet it.

Then scatter some flour on the board, work in a little and roll the paste out.

Yes, that's the way.

Now put dabs of butter all over it and roll it out again.

We won't have our pastry very rich or the dolls will get dyspeptic.

Daisy laughed at the idea and scattered the dabs with a liberal hand.

Then she rolled and rolled with her delightful little pin, and having got her paste ready, proceeded to cover the plates with it.

Next, the apple was sliced in sugar and cinnamon lavishly sprinkled over it, and then the top crust put on with breathless care.

I always wanted to cut them round, and Asia never would let me.

How nice to do it my ownty Donty self, said Daisy, as the little knife went clipping round the doll's, plate poised on her hand.

All cooks, even the best, meet with mishaps sometimes, and Sally's first one occurred then, for the knife went so fast that the plate slipped, turned a somersault in the air, and landed the dear little pie upside down on the floor.

Sally screamed.

Mrs Jo laughed.

Teddy scrambled to get it, and for a moment confusion reigned in the new kitchen.

It didn't spill or break because I pinched the edges together so hard, it isn't hurt a bit, so I'll p**** holes in it and then it will be ready, said Sally, picking up the capsized treasure and putting it into shape with a childlike disregard of the dust it had gathered in its fall.

My new cook has a good temper, I see, and that is such a comfort, said Mrs Jo.

Now, open the jar of strawberry jam, fill the uncovered pie and put some strips of paste over the top, as Asia does.

I'll make a D in the middle and have zigzags all round.

That'll be so interesting when I come to eat it, said Sally, loading the pie with Quirrels and flourishes that would have driven a real pastry cook wild.

Now I put them in.

She exclaimed, when the last grimy knob had been carefully planted in the red field of jam, and with an air of triumph, she shut them into the little oven.

Clear up your things.

A good cook never lets your utensils collect.

Then pair your squash and potatoes.

There's only one potato.

Giggled Sally.

Cut it in four pieces so it will go into the little kettle, and put the bits into cold water till it is time to cook them.

Do I soak the squash too?

No, indeed.

Just par it and cut it up and put it into the steamer over the pot.

It is drier so, though it takes longer to cook here.

A scratching at the door caused Sally to run and open it when Kit appeared with a covered basket in his mouth.

Here's the butcher boy.

Cried Daisy.

Much tickled at the idea, she relieved him of his load, wheret he licked his lips and began to beg, evidently thinking that it was his own dinner, for he often carried it to his master in that way.

Being undeceived, he departed in great wrath and barked all the way downstairs to ease his wounded feelings.

In the basket were two bits of steak, dolls, pounds, a baked pear, a small cake and paper with them on which Asia had scrawled for Missy's lunch.

If her cooking don't turn out well.

I don't want any of her old pears and things.

My cooking will turn out well, and I'll have a splendid dinner.

See if I don't.

Cried daisy indignantly.

We may like them if company should come.

It is always well to have something in the storeroom, said Aunt Joe, who had been taught this valuable fact by a series of domestic panics.

Me is hungry, announced Teddy, who began to think what was so much cooking going on, it was about time for somebody to eat something.

His mother gave him her work basket to rummage, hoping to keep him quiet till dinner was ready and returned to her housekeeping.

Put on your vegetables, set the table, and then have some coals kindling ready for the steak.

What a thing it was.

To see the potatoes bobbing about in the little pot, to peep at the squash getting soft so fast in the tiny steamer, to whisk open the oven door every 5 minutes to see how the pies got on.

And at last, when the coals were red and glowing, to put two real steaks on a fingerlong grid iron and proudly turn them with a fork.

The potatoes were done first, and no wonder, for they had boiled frantically all the while they were pounded up with a little pestle, had much butter and no salt put in.

Cook forgot it in the excitement of the moment.

Then it was made into a mound in a gay red dish, smoothed over with a knife, dipped in milk, and put in the oven to brown.

So absorbed in these last performances had Sally been, that she forgot her pastry till she opened the door to put in the potato.

Then a wail arose, for alas, alas, the little pies were burnt black.

Oh, my pies, my darling pies.

They are all spoiled.

Cried poor Sally, wringing her dirty little hands as she surveyed the ruin of her work.

The tart was especially pathetic, for the Quirrels and zigzags stuck up in all directions from the blackened jelly, like the walls and chimney of a house after a fire.

Dear, dear, I forgot to remind you to take them out.

It's just my luck, said Aunt Joe remorsefully.

Don't cry, darling, it was my fault.

We'll try again after dinner, she added, as a great tear dropped from Sally's eyes and sizzled on the hot ruins of the tart.

More would have followed if the steak had not blazed up just then, and so occupied the attention of cook that she quickly forgot the lost pastry.

Put the meat dish and your own plates down to warm while you mashed the squash with butter, salt and a little pepper on top, said Mrs.

Jo, devoutfully hoping that the dinner would meet with no further disasters.

The cunning pepper pot soothed Sally's feelings, and she dished up her squash in fine style.

The dinner was safely put upon the table, the six dolls receded three on a side.

Teddy took the bottom, and Sally the top.

When all were settled, it was a most imposing spectacle, for one doll was in full ball costume, another in her nightgown.

Jerry, the worsted boy, wore his red winter suit, while Annabella, the noseless darling, was airily attired in nothing but her own kid skin.

Teddy, as father of the family, behaved with great propriety, for he, smilingly, devoured everything offered him, and did not find a single fault.

Daisy beamed upon her company like the weary, warm but hospitable hostess, so often to be seen at larger tables like this, and did the honors with an air of innocent satisfaction, which we do not often see elsewhere.

The steak was so tough that the little carving knife would not cut it.

The potato did not go round, and the squash was very lumpy.

But the guests appeared politely unconscious of these trifles, and the master and mistress of the house cleared the table with appetites that anyone might envy them.

The joy of skimming a jug full of cream mitigated the anguish felt for the loss of the pies, and Asia's despised cake proved a treasure in the way of dessert.

That is the nicest lunch I ever had.

Can't I do it every day?

Asked Daisy as she scraped up and ate the leavings all round.

You can cook things every day after lessons, but I prefer that you should eat your dishes at your regular meals and only have a bit of gingerbread for lunch today being the first time.

I don't mind, but we must keep our rules this afternoon.

You can make something for tea if you like, said Mrs.

Jo, who had enjoyed the dinner party very much, though no one had invited her to partake.

Do let me make flapjacks for Demi.

He loves them so, and it's such fun to turn them and put sugar in between.

Cried Daisy, tenderly wiping a yellow stain off Annabella's broken nose, for Bella had refused to eat squash when it was pressed upon her as good for lumatism, a complaint which it is no wonder she suffered from, considering the lightness of her attire.

But if you give Demi goodies, all the others will expect some also, and then you will have your hands full.

Couldn't I have Demi come up to tea alone, just this one time?

And after that I could cook things for the others if they were good, proposed Daisy with a sudden inspiration.

That is a capital idea, Posey.

We will make your little messes rewards for the good boys, and I don't know one among them who would not like something nice to eat more than almost anything else.

If little men are like big ones, good cooking will touch their hearts and soothe their tempers.

Delightfully, added Aunt Joe with a merry nod toward the door, where stood Papa Bear, surveying the scene with a face full of amusement.

That last hit was for me.

Sharp woman, I accept it, for it is true, but if I had married thee for thy cooking heart's, dearest, I should have fared badly all these years, answered the professor, laughing as he tossed Teddy, who became quite apoptic in his endeavors to describe the feast he had just enjoyed.

Daisy proudly showed her kitchen and rashly promised Uncle Fritz as many flapjacks as he could eat.

She was just telling about the new rewards when the boys, headed by Demi, burst into the room, snuffing the air like a pack of hungry hounds, for a school was out, dinner was not ready, and the fragrance of Daisy's steak led them straight to the spot.

Prouder little damsel was never seen than Sally as she displayed her treasures and told the lads what was in store for them.

Several rather scoffed at the idea of her cooking anything fit to eat, but Stuffy's heart was one at once.

Nat and Demi had firm faith in her skill, and the others said they would wait and see.

Hull admired the kitchen, however, and examined the stove with deep interest.

Demi offered to buy the boiler on the spot to be used in a steam engine which he was constructing, and Ned declared that the best and biggest saucepan was just the thing to melt his lead in when he ran.

Bullets hatchets and such trifles.

Daisy looked so alarmed at these proposals that Mrs.

Jo, then and there, made and proclaimed a law that no boy should touch, use, or even approach the sacred stove without a special permit from the owner thereof.

This increased its value immensely in the eyes of the gentleman, especially as any infringement of the law would be punished by forfeiture of all right to partake of the delicacies promised to the virtuous.

At this point the bell rang and the entire population went down to dinner, which meal was enlivened by each of the boys, giving Daisy a list of things he would like to have cooked for him as fast as he earned them.

Daisy, whose faith in her stove was unlimited, promised everything if Aunt Joe would tell her how to make them.

This suggestion rather alarmed Mrs.

Jo, for some of the dishes were quite beyond her skill.

Wedding cake, for instance, bullseye candy and cabbage soup with herrings and cherries in it, which Mr.

Bear proposed as his favorite and immediately reduced his wife to despair, for German cookery was beyond her.

Daisy wanted to begin again the minute dinner was done, but she was only allowed to clear up, fill the kettle, ready for tea, and wash out her apron, which looked as if she had a Christmas feast.

She was then sent out to play till 05:00, for Uncle Fritz said that too much study, even at cooking stoves, was bad for little minds and bodies, and Aunt Joe knew by long experience how soon new toys lose their charm if they're not prudently used.

Everyone was very kind to Daisy that afternoon.

Tommy promised her the first fruits of his garden, though the only visible crop just then was pigweed.

Nat offered to supply her with wood free of charge.

Stuffy quite worshipped her.

Ned immediately fell to work on a little refrigerator for her kitchen, and Demi, with a punctuality beautiful to see in one so young, escorted her to the nursery just as the clock struck five.

It was not time for the party to begin, but he begged so hard to come in and help that he was allowed privileges few visitors enjoy.

Rekindled the fire, ran errands and watched the progress of his supper with intense interest.

Mrs.

Joe directed the affair.

She came and went, being very busy putting up clean curtains all over the house.

Ask Asia for a cup of sour cream, then your cakes will be light without much soda, which I don't like, was the first order.

Demi tore downstairs and returned with the cream, also a puckered up face, for he had tasted it on his way and found it so sour that he predicted the cakes would be uneatable.

Mrs.

Jo took this occasion to deliver a short lecture from the Stepladder on the Chemical Properties of Soda, to which Daisy did not listen.

But Demi did, and understood it, as he proved by the brief but comprehensive reply.

Yes, I see.

Soda turns sour things sweet, and the fizzling up makes them light.

Let's see you do it, Daisy.

Fill that bowl nearly full of flour and add a little salt to it, continued Mrs.

Jo.

Oh, dear.

Everything has to have salt in it, seems to me, said Sally, who was tired of opening the pill box in which it was kept, salt is like good humor, and nearly everything is better for a pinch of it posy.

And Uncle Fritz stopped as he passed, hammer in hand, to drive up two or three nails for Sally's little pans to hang on.

You are not invited to tea, but I'll give you some cakes and I won't be cross, said Daisy, putting up her flowery little face to thank him with a kiss.

Fritz, you must not interrupt my cooking class, or I'll come in and moralize when you're teaching Latin.

How would you like that?

Said Mrs.

Jo, throwing a great chintz curtain down on his head.

Very much.

Try it and see.

And the Amiable father Bear went singing and tapping about the house like a mammoth woodpecker.

Put the soda into the cream, and when it fizzles, as Demi says, stir it into the flour and beat it up as hard as ever.

You can have your griddle hot, butter it well and then fry away till I come back.

And Aunt Joe vanished.

Also, such a clatter as the little spoon made and such a beating as the batter got.

It quite foamed, I assure you.

And when Daisy poured some onto the griddle, it rose like magic in a puffy flapjack that made Demi's mouth water, to be sure, the first one stuck and scorched because she forgot the butter.

But after that first failure, all went well, and six capital little cakes were safely landed in the dish.

I think I like maple syrup better than sugar, said Demi from his armchair, where he had settled himself after setting the table in a new and peculiar manner.

Then go and ask Asia for some, answered Daisy, going into the bathroom to wash her hands while the nursery was empty.

Something dreadful happened, you see, Kit had been feeling hurt all day because he had carried meat safely and yet got none to pay him.

He was not a bad dog, but he had his little faults like the rest of us, and could not always resist temptation.

Happening the stroll into the nursery at that moment, he smelt the cakes, saw them unguarded on the low table, and never stopping to think of consequences, swallowed all six and one mouthful.

I'm glad to say that they were very hot, and burned him so badly that he could not repress a surprised yelp.

Daisy heard it, ran in, saw the empty dish, also the end of a yellow tail disappearing under the bed.

Without a word she seized that tail, pulled out the thief and shook him till his ears flapped wildly, then bundled him downstairs to the shed, where he spent a lonely evening in the coal bin.

Cheered by the sympathy which Demi gave her, daisy made another bowl full of batter and fried a dozen cakes, which were even better than the others.

Indeed, Uncle Fritz, after eating two, sent up word that he had never tasted any so nice, and every boy at the table below envied Demi at the flapjack party above.

It was a truly delightful supper, for the little teapot lid only fell off three times and the milk jug upset.

But once the cakes floated in syrup and the toast had a delicious beef steak flavor, owing to cooks using the gridiron to make it on, demi forgot philosophy and stuffed like any Carnal boy, while Daisy planned sumptuous banquets and the dolls looked on, smiling affably.

Well, dearies, have you had a good time?

Asked Mrs.

Jo, coming up with teddy on her shoulder.

A very good time.

I shall come again soon, answered Demi with emphasis.

I'm afraid you've eaten too much by the look of that table.

No, I haven't.

I only ate 15 cakes, and they were very little ones, protested Demi, who had kept his sister busy supplying his plate.

They won't hurt him.

They are so nice, said Daisy, with such a funny mixture of maternal fondness and housewifely pride that Aunt Joe could only smile and say, well, on the whole, the new game is a success.

Then I like it, said Demi, as if his approval was all that was necessary.

It is the dearest play ever made.

Cried Daisy, hugging her little dish tub as she proposed to wash up the cups.

I just wish everybody had a sweet cooking stove like mine, she added, regarding it with affection.

This play ought to have a name, said Demi gravely removing the syrup from his countenance with his tongue.

It has.

Oh what?

Asked both children eagerly.

Well, I think we will call it Patty Pans and Aunt Joe retired, satisfied with the success of her last trap to Catch a Sunbeam.

Thank you for joining Bite at a Time Books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlisle and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of Little Men.

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