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Second Day

What do you think was the first question Mrs. King heard the next morning, almost before she had opened her eyes?

It was, "Oh, Aunt Jane, are we going to cook again to-day?" "Cook?" said Aunt Jane, sleepily, "cook what? Oh, yes, I remember. I can tell you better after I have had a cup of coffee. I never know anything before breakfast." She relented so far, however, as to tell Grace at the table, in order to set her mind at ease, that she thought it would be best to postpone the next lesson until another day, and devote her energies to the making of aprons. "One apiece will be enough," said she, "for you couldn't very well be in the kitchen on washing and ironing days; so when the apron is soiled it can be made clean in the early part of the week, and you can use it again in the latter part. You may go in and ask Aunt Carroll and Mrs. Lane if they would like to have their little girls join the cooking-club, and then we shall know how many aprons will be needed."

There was not much doubt about the answer, but to make matters sure, all those invited came instantly rushing in, out of breath, to say that their mammas were very much obliged and when should they come and what should they bring with them and what kind of cloth would be needed for the aprons and how much? As all this was without a pause, of course the truthful historian is not allowed to introduce any punctuation. "Oh, I'll attend to all that," said Aunt Jane, as soon as she could get in a word. "The aprons shall be my present to the club. I'll go down town now and get the materials, and if you like, we'll have a sewing-bee afterwards, and you can help make them up. Many hands make light work, you know."

Agreed to on all sides.

Three pretty ginghams were chosen, two of each color, so that they could easily be distinguished; Mrs. King cut them out and ran them up on the sewing-machine, and the children finished them off under her direction. Good, serviceable aprons they were, high in the neck and coming down to the very bottom of the dress-loose and easy, yet not clumsy. They had sleeves gathered into a wristband and buttoned at the wrist, so that in summer they could be worn without a dress, if desirable, while in winter they would cover a close sleeve. When the little circle were waiting for their work, Aunt Jane said: "While I am cutting out I'll tell you something, if you like, about what happened to me in one of my experiments in cooking when I was about Grace's age." Chorus of voices, "Oh, do, do!" "We lived in the country then, and my mother had a large family of young children, and was so burdened with cares that life was very hard for her. Half the time we could not get any servant, and it was only as a great favor that a woman would come now and then to help with the washing. As I was the oldest daughter, I was brought up to think it my business to do what I could to help along, and being strong and quite intelligent for my age, I really was of great use. One summer we had an unusually fine crop of tomatoes in the garden, (tomatoes were not as common then as they are now, and were considered a great treat,) and my overworked mother was lamenting that she could not make up a quantity of catsup, which my father was very fond of. ""Let me do it, mamma,' I cried; 'I know I could if you would just show me how.' "As there was nothing complicated about the recipe, my mother consented, and I had a whole day set apart for the business. First, I was obliged to go and gather the tomatoes, as no one else had time for it; and I was so determined to do myself credit that I brought in one basketful after another until I had a wash-tub full. After that, they had to be looked over and cut up, and a variety of things put with them, I don't remember exactly what, but it was a very troublesome recipe. The end was that I had a large wash-boiler filled with the rich red mass, and it was set on the stove to boil. If I were doing the same thing now, I should divide the quantity into at least four parts and heat them in separate vessels; but I did not know what poor economy of time and trouble it is to cook too much of anything at once." "You hadn't any Aunt Jane to teach you," observed Jessie. "No; and my mother, who had the best practical good sense of any woman I ever saw, was in another part of the house taking care of a sick baby, and had to leave me to my own devices. As my catsup would of course take a long time even to 'come to a boil,' as it is called, there was no use in my standing in the hot kitchen watching it all the time, so I left a good fire under it and took my book out into the wood-shed, where it was cooler. I am sorry to be obliged to confess that at that time I was a regular bookworm, which I have since discovered to mean a person who selfishly pursues her own pleasure in reading, generally to the neglect of plain duties which are staring her in the face, if she would only raise her eyes to see them." "Oh, I know whom you mean, Aunt Jane," interrupted Grace, "just as well as if you said the name, though you are looking the other way so carefully!" "I made no personal remarks, Gracie; one bookworm is very much like another, as far as my observation goes. But, as I was saying, I took my book, which happened to be a delightful new story, (and story-books were very scarce with me in those days), and was soon absorbed in it. I don't know how long I read, but at last I thought of my tomatoes, and with the thought, or perhaps suggesting it, came a most powerful odor from the kitchen, which I knew betokened no good. Then I ran in fast enough, and there was my great boiler full of tomatoes" "Burnt, Aunt Jane?" said Rose. "The lower layer burned almost to a crisp, and the whole mass so penetrated through and through with the offensive taste, that there was nothing to be done but lift off the boiler and turn the whole contents into the swillpail! You may imagine the misery and mortification of that moment. My mother arrived on the scene at the same time, and I expected the reproaches I deserved; but she, remembering my patient toil through the early part of the day, and my good intentions, kindly tried to laugh it off, knowing that the consciousness of my failure would be punishment enough. 'I have heard of "cooking by the book," said she, 'but I never saw it done exactly in that way before.' "We had no tomato catsup that year." "Oh, Aunt Jane, that was too bad!" exclaimed the chorus. "Do you think we shall ever do anything like that?" "Nothing quite so bad, I hope, but I wouldn't advise you ever to take a very interesting book into the kitchen with you. Time flies so fast when we are reading, that it isn't safe to trust ourselves." "What am I going to make first, Mrs. King?" inquired "And I, and I?" chimed in several other voices.