"Qk, hum mm ! Q ,jali,^ak,jah." A Joke on Aunt Maria 71 When Aunt Maria and Mary Frances came into the kitchen later, the old lady was talking. '^Very creditable, child," she said, looking at the shelves, all in order, ''very creditable indeed. I can't understand it — with no one to show you how to " ''I have my little book," said Mary Frances. "Book!'' sniffed Aunt Maria, putting the breakfast cereal on to cook. "Book! A hook can't tell you exactly when a piece of toast is brown enough, or a potato just done enough to be mealy, nor how to keep a pan from burning. Book! It's talent! That's what it is! Blood will tell. You inherited it from me. I never burnt pans — never in my life — there's no excuse for it." ''Yes, ma'am," said Mary Frances, thinking of the ruined breakfast. "Go up, and open the beds to air," commanded Aunt Maria. When Mary Frances got back, she could scarcely see across the kitchen for smoke. "Fire!" screamed Aunt Maria, making for Boiler Pan on the stove. "I thought the house was on fire," she panted, " pre !" screamed flunt j^ana . A Joke on Aunt Maria 73 snatching it up. ''Oh, — oh, I wish I had my smelhng salts ! The porridge is all burnt up ! What a disgrace ! ' ' Mary Frances felt very sorry for her, but when she saw Sauce Pan and Coffee Pot holding their queer little fists over their mouths to keep from laughing out, and when she remembered how funny the old lady looked making across the kitchen in two steps, she ran back into the dining room to laugh. "I must stop," she'd say to herself — and the more she'd say it, the more she'd laugh. ''This is dreadful, Mary Frances," she'd scold herself; "but, oh, my, wasn't it funny!" — and away she'd go again. At length she went back upstairs until Aunt Maria called, "Breakfast!" Even at the table she couldn't look at Aunt Maria without laughing. "What's the matter?" asked Brother. "Oh, don't ask me!" Mary Frances begged, hiding her face. She didn't dare go into the kitchen until after her aunt had gone, for fear of disgracing herself laughing. >he ran into the dinind room tp laudh To keep from laughing out. 74 The Mary Frances Cook Book When she did go out to look up her next lesson in her little book, Boiler Pan walked dolefully up to her, holding out a piece of sand-paper. He looked so funny with a big black spot on one eye! Bowing, he began to recite: "Of course, you never burn your pans, Of course, no more do I; But, should such sad things happen, A piece of this just try." "I will!" exclaimed Mary Frances; and in less than a twinkle had rubbed all the burnt spots off. "My, — that's better; thank you," brightly beamed Boiler Pan. Mary Frances sat down on the rocking chair, and opened her book. "Tea! Omelet!" she exclaimed. "Isn't that nice!" Just then came a knock at the kitchen door. CHAPTER XII THE TRAMP MARY FRANCES peeped out of the open window. A tramp! ''Oh, dear, — shall I open the door?" thought the frightened little girl. ''Please, Miss/' — the oldest, hungriest-looking tramp she ever saw looked down at her, taking off his worn out cap. "Please, Miss — a cup o' tea — anything? I am that tired and faint." He caught hold the railing. "Tea! — my next lesson!" thought Mary Frances.

AI-modernized reading of the original text

"Qk, hum mm ! Q ,jali,^ak,jah." A Joke on Aunt Maria When Aunt Maria and Mary Frances came into the kitchen later, the old lady was talking. '^Very creditable, child," she said, looking at the shelves, all in order, ''very creditable indeed. I can't understand it — with no one to show you how to " ''I have my little book," said Mary Frances. "Book!" sniffed Aunt Maria, putting the breakfast cereal on to cook. "Book! A book can't tell youu exactly when a piece of toast is brown enough, or a potato just done enough to be mealy, nor how to keep a pan from burning. Book! It's talent! That's what it is! Blood will tell. You inherited it from me. I never burnt pans — never in my life — there's no excuse for it." ''Yes, ma'am," said Mary Frances, thinking of the ruined breakfast. "Go up, and open the beds to air," commanded Aunt Maria. When Mary Frances got back, she could scarcely see across the kitchen for smoke. "Fire!" screamed Aunt Maria, making for Boiler Pan on the stove. "I thought the house was on fire," she panted, A Joke on Aunt Maria ssnatching it up. "Oh, — oh, I wish I had my smelling salts! The porridge is all burnt up! What a disgrace!" Mary Frances felt very sorry for her, but when she saw Sauce Pan and Coffee Pot holding their queer little fists over their mouths to keep from laughing out, and when she remembered how funny the old lady looked making across the kitchen in two steps, she ran back into the dining room to laugh. "I must stop," she'd say to herself — and the more she'd say it, the more she'd laugh. ''This is dreadful, Mary Frances," she'd scold herself; "but, oh, my, wasn't it funny!" — and away she'd go again. At length she went back upstairs until Aunt Maria called, "Breakfast!" Even at the table she couldn't look at Aunt Maria without laughing. "What's the matter?" asked Brother. "Oh, don't ask me!" Mary Frances begged, hiding her face. She didn't dare go into the kitchen until after her aunt had gone, for fear of disgracing herself laughing. >he ran into the dinind room tp laudh To keep from laughing out. The Mary Frances Cook Book When she did go out to look up her next lesson in her little book, Boiler Pan walked dolefully up to her, holding out a piece of sand-paper. He looked so funny with a big black spot on one eye! Bowing, he began to recite: "Of course, you never burn your pans, Of course, no more do I; But, should such sad things happen, A piece of this just try." "I will!" exclaimed Mary Frances; and in less than a twinkle had rubbed all the burnt spots off. "My, — that's better; thank you," brightly beamed Boiler Pan. Mary Frances sat down on the rocking chair, and opened her book. "Tea! Omelet!" she exclaimed. "Isn't that nice!" Just then came a knock at the kitchen door. CHAPTER XII THE TRAMP MARY FRANCES peeped out of the open window. A tramp! ''Oh, dear, — shall I open the door?" thought the frightened little girl. ''Please, Miss/' — the oldest, hungriest-looking tramp she ever saw looked down at her, taking off his worn out cap. "Please, Miss — a cup o' tea — anything? I am that tired and faint." He caught hold the railing. "Tea! — my next lesson!" thought Mary Frances.

The Mary Frances cook book