"It--will--be--the--day--of--my--life--ever--to--be--remembered--"

Potato Masher ran his words together clumsily--"But I should be very much obliged to you if you would first wash my face."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "First wash my face."]

"Why, certainly," said Mary Frances. "I didn't like to suggest it."

"Thank you kindly, Miss. 'Tis a pleasure to serve you," said the little fellow, as he perched himself on the sugar box, when Mary Frances brought him back to the table.

"All ready?" asked the little girl.

"Cla.s.s proceed!" said Potato Masher, with a school teacher air.

Only twice did he interrupt her as she followed every direction given in the recipes: once, to remind her of the potatoes in the oven; and again, to tell her to pour the soup very slowly, lest she burn herself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Cla.s.s proceed"]

"It's mag-nif-i-cent!--this Potato Lunch," said he, as Mary Frances carried the last smoking dish to the dining table. "'Tis a proud day for the 'a.s.sistant Chef'--meaning myself."

He made a pompous little bow toward the Kitchen Folks.

"I little thought she'd be on time. I was afraid I'd have to strike before she was ready," declared Mantel Clock, beginning to strike twelve just as Billy came in.

"Menus!" exclaimed the boy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Menus!" exclaimed the boy.]

"Jimminy! 'Billy's Potato Lunch,'" he read. "Oh, I say--if I'd known I'd have dressed for the occasion!"

"Don't make fun, Billy," begged Mary Frances.

"'Make fun,'" cried Billy. "Just taste that soup--and see if anyone could make fun. It's fit for the President."

"Oh--Billy!" Mary Frances laughed.

"Maybe you think I don't mean it," said Billy, helping himself to mashed potatoes. "Why didn't you invite some company?"

"I didn't know that Potato Masher--I mean, I didn't know it would turn out so well," blushed Mary Frances.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I little thought she'd be on time."]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Invite somebody--can't I bring Bob and Eleanor over some day soon to lunch?"

"Yes,'" said Mary Frances, "if Aunt Maria----"

"Oh, by the way," said Billy "I 'most forgot! Aunt Maria had word her brother is sick at Upland, and she went to see him this morning, and can't possibly be back in time for breakfast. I guessed we'd make out O.

K. I told her--I was thinking of our lunches, you know."

"Billy--really?" asked Mary Frances, "but I'm sorry for Aunt Maria's brother."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Thank you kindly, Miss."]

CHAPTER IX

MARY FRANCES GETS BREAKFAST

MARY FRANCES was a long time getting to sleep that night for thinking about breakfast.

She had her little cook book, and Mother's last letter under her pillow.

"Billy writes your lunches are 'scrumptious,'" ran her mother's letter.

"I cannot tell how much comfort my little girl is to me."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Mother's last letter.]

"I've 'most a mind to tell Mother about the cook book," thought Mary Frances, "but won't she open her eyes when I tell her I've made everything--if I can keep the secret! I do hope I wake up in time.

Father said he'd call me to breakfast, when he said "Good-night," but I want to slip down, and have everything ready when he comes."

So she fell asleep, and dreamed she made an Angel Cake as big as a mountain, and that Jubey stole it, and fed all the hungry cats in the World.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Jubey fed all the hungry cats in the world.]

She had fixed the curtain so that the first sunlight would fall on her face, and it seemed only a breath of time until she felt it call her.

How sleepy she was!

"I'll get down before the Kitchen Folks are awake," she whispered.

She carried her little shoes in her hand and stole softly downstairs, stopping in the dining-room to put them on.

"Nonsense, you!" she recognized the voice of Tea Kettle.

"Just wait till I read it out of my little book," mimicked a new voice.

"For shame, you saucy Pan!" exclaimed Big Iron Pot.

"Just wait until I read it!"

Mary Frances peeped into the kitchen. In the middle of the floor stood little Sauce Pan, pretending to read out of a book:

"'How to Make Potato Pie Out of Sauer-kraut.'"