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we have a change. Baker's brcid, too.
Mother always had biscuits." -
"Yes, John, dear, and beautiful
ones, too. I'll cook some."
Which Nellie did. And the next
evening, after choking on two of
them, when she was not looking John
walked to the window, threw a third
biscuit wrathfully at a passing dog
and sent the animal yelping as if he
had been struck by a cannon balk
"Bread tomorrow, John," announc
ed Nellie, never losing her domestic
optimism. "I've found a lovely
recipe."
"All right don't make any more
biscuits, though."
"Why, John?"
"Well, you see that is, I like bread
best."
"I see!" said Nellie, biting her
tongue to keep from laughing out
right. ,
John came home the next evening
to find Nellie standing in dismay out
side the kitchen window. Upon its
sill rested a great pan. Overflowing
it on all sides were streams and trick
lings of sticky, pasty dough.
It had painted the sill and the side
of the house. It lay in wads and
chunks across the lilac bushes. There
was a pool of it on the grass.
"Why, Nellie! What is the mat
ter?" questioned her amazed help
meet. "The bread, John. I put in only
four cakes of yeast and that is what
it did. The flour can't have been any
good."
John groaned. After supper he
wandered restlessly about the house.
When "he talked it was about home
and mother.
The net day, as Nellie passed from
the kitch,en to the dining room, she
saw-ja tramp just leaving through the
open front door, her husband's sec
ond best overcoat under his arm.
Nellie did not run after him. - She
only smiled. She was, however, sober
faced enough when she told the an
noyed John of the incident.
t "You .seet J,ohu,,'5 he explained
plaintively, I'm fli alone hcre. I
can't watch every part of the hojise
all of the time."
"Yes, I see," said John rather sulk
ily. Then Nellie discerned that he
was making a great effort to muster
up the courage to say something. t
"Look here, Nellie," he blurted out
finally. "You're a sweet little woman
and allthat, but a fellow must eat."
"Yes, John," responded Nellie de
murely. "I don't want to offend you, but you
don't know how to cook."
"No, John, but can't I learn?"
"Who from?" asked John hope
fully. "I don't know, indeed," murmured
Nellie in a forlorn way.
"I do," cried John, "mother. We'll
have her here to teach you for a
month."
"No, John," dissented Nelile deliberately.--
"Eh?"
"Not for a month. If she will come
to stay, yes."
"But" --
"That's all, John," declared the
little lady firmly. "Do as you please,
but those are my terms.''
"Humph! got a mind of Tier own
when she's aroused," reflected John,
alone later. "Dear littleJ chick!" And
mother, after a stormy discussion
with .her son, came the next day;
What a glowing, loving heart to
heart talk over the doubting fearful
old mother the affectionate confiding
wife had ! How sadly Nellie spoke of
her dead mother. How tenderly of
this lonely woman whoni she asked
to share her heart and home.
And what a royal meal for John
that evening! How his eyes sparkled
at the goodly array of eatables! No
biscuits hke rocks, no doubtful roast,
no burned pudding!
"Ah," he observed, "let us see how
soon mother can make a graduate of
ypu in cookery, Nellie."
"Why, son," spoke Mrs. Marey, a
radiant smile on her face, "Nellie has
been "teaching nic all the iitterupou."
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