"I can't cook the first solitary thing," admitted Florence; "but I
had a cousin that used to make bread when she was ten years old."
"Much good that does you," remarked Alan disrespectfully. "My
grandmother was a splendid cook, but I never found that it helped
Molly any."
"I can cook," said Jean, with manifest pride; "I know how to do
meat and lots of things; but I don't suppose I should, if I hadn't
had to."
"I always wanted to get into the kitchen, when I was a little
girl," said Florence. "We had one girl that used to let me roll
out pie-crust and stir up muffins; but mamma caught me one day,
with a new gown all covered with flour and bits of dough, and
after that there was no kitchen for me."
"Ask Alan how he boiled some meat once," said Molly.
Alan hung his head in confusion.
"I'll tell you, if he won't," went on his sister mercilessly. "Two
years ago we had some company just before Thanksgiving, and mamma
wanted to boil some meat for mince pies. We hadn't any girl, so
when we went to ride, she told Alan, to watch it and put in more
water when it needed it, so it shouldn't burn. He went off to play
ball and forgot it, and--"Molly made an impressive pause.
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