"How old are you, now, anyway?" asked Tea Kettle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A joyful surprise!"]

"I've been told I'm very old-- My grandsire was a Tory-- Often bought and often sold, But that's another story."

"What an honor!" snickered Sauce Pan.

"How rude!" said Coffee Pot.

"No, child," came the deep voice of Baking Dish, "only modern--without reverence for the old and----"

"One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten--eleven!"

struck in Mantel Clock, very loudly.

"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed Mary Frances to herself, "it's time to commence lunch. I do thank Mantel Clock for reminding me.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Struck in Mantel Clock very Loudly.]

"Let me see," said she, going into the kitchen as if she had just come downstairs, although she felt very guilty. "I must find to-day's lesson."

She read quietly for some time, pretending not to notice that she found the book open with the spout of Tea Pot lying against one of the pages.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Lying against one of the pages.]

"I can make White Sauce in a jiffy, and I'll heat some canned salmon in it," she exclaimed, picking up Sauce Pan quite carelessly. "He needs a lesson, and I don't need his help," she thought. "I'll treat him quite in-dif-fer-ent-ly."

"The salmon ought to have been opened an hour or two ago," said a sharp little voice.

Mary Frances looked around to see who her new helper could be, but could discover no one.

"How do you know?" she asked, more to find out who was speaking than to gain information.

"Who'd know better?" came the little voice, so sharp it was little more than a squeak. "I'm Can Opener!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Who'd know better?"]

"Oh, so you are!" cried Mary Frances, spying him. "I'm glad to see you.

Now, why open the salmon an hour ago?"

"All canned goods ought to be opened an hour or two before needed, and turned out," explained Can Opener, "to get well aired."

"Thank you," said Mary Frances, "I'll open the salmon right away--then see to the apples--then the White Sauce."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The apples]

She had only just finished the White Sauce, when the door-bell rang. She stopped to take the Baked Apples out of the oven, before answering. It was Billy with Robert and Eleanor who lived down the street.

"h.e.l.lo, Sister," said Billy, "I told you I'd bring company home to lunch some day. Anything ready?"

"By good luck, Billy, yes," said Mary Frances, kissing Eleanor, and taking her coat and hat, while Billy did the same for Robert.

"I know now why Mother likes Father to telephone when he's bringing home company to dinner," laughed Mary Frances.

"Oh, don't you worry, folks," said Billy, "everything'll be all right."

"That's the highest compliment a boy can pay, Mary Frances, you know,"

said Eleanor.

"I wish I could cook," she sighed, when Mary Frances dished the dessert of Baked Apples, and the three praised everything on the table.

"I wish you could, Sis," exclaimed Robert.

"Maybe some day I'll teach you some of the things I can make," said Mary Frances.

"Oh, Mary Frances, will you?" cried Eleanor.

"If your mother says so," nodded Mary Frances.

[Ill.u.s.tration: It was Billy with Robert]

[Ill.u.s.tration: and Eleanor.]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"I know she will," declared Eleanor. "She hates to cook, but she'll let me learn. She never goes into the kitchen if she can help it. And no wonder. Our kitchen is an awful place to go into, Maggie is so cross.

She wouldn't let me try."

"Pity the poor Kitchen People," thought Mary Frances.

"Oh, we'll have fun!" she said aloud.

"When will you want me to come?" Eleanor asked.

"Some time, when I get near the end of my book, I'll let you know."

"Won't that be lovely! I'll bring my own bowl and spoon."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I'll read," said Sauce Pan. "What was the last?"]

CHAPTER XIV

A PATENT DISH-WASHING