Cooking and castle-building

"Yes, mamma, this cake gave me no more trouble to make than would a loaf of bread. From the bread, when perfectly light and ready for the last moulding, I took three cups of dough, to which I added two cups of white sugar, one cup of butter, two eggs well beaten, one cup chopped raisins, one teaspoonful cinnamon, and half a teaspoonful of soda. As the dough was very light I pressed it into the cup, measuring it as full as possible. Placing these ingredients together in an earthen bowl, I worked them with my hand for half an hour. The mixture became quite soft, after being worked awhile. I put it into a well-buttered baking-dish, lined with white paper, and, placing it upon the table covered, let it stand two hours to rise. When light — which was shown by little bubbles of air dotting its surface, more than from its having risen — I placed it in a very moderate oven, not nearly so hot as bread requires, and every few minutes I opened the oven door just enough to peep in and see how it was baking. To my joyful surprise, — for it being my lirst attempt at bread-cake, I scarcely looked for success, — each time I peeped, I found it rising, rising, rising, slowly, and at last I shut the door, satisfied that I could leave it to bake unwatched. It was in the oven an hour and a half, and you see it came out very nice." "And how well it keeps," observed Emeline. " Indeed, I think age improves it, as it does many things." "And people also," I answered. "Did it ever occur to you, Emeline, how many men and women ripen and mellow — growing sweeter and more tender, as the autumn of life come on? This bread-cake," I continued, "when baked in suitable form, makes a very nice pudding, if steamed, and served hot, with wine or fruit sauce. To my taste it is more palatable than the ordinary plumpudding, while it is much less indigestible. Bread-cake, doughnuts, and buns—" "No buns for me," said Emeline. "I detest the whole rusk family. Many people like that half-and-half sort of food — a something between one thing and another — a link joining this thing to that ; but my taste is different. If I eat bread, I want it to be bread ; if cake, cake ; not a combination of both, resulting in neither." " But mamma," said Alice, " buns are bread etherealized ; light, airy things that I delight in eating, because of their very daintiness. M}^ recipe for buns reads in this manner : Whip together three ounces of sugar and three eggs, until well broken and mixed ; then pour upon them slowly, continuing the beating meanwhile, a pint of boiling milk. Add a pint of flour, and when lukewarm, a half-gill of yeast; Beat all well together, cover closely, and let stand over night. In the