So Grace ran off to get her mother's answer, tripping over a footstool as she went, banging her head against the edge of the door in her haste to get round it, and catching her sleeve in a corner of the banisters. She always began everything with the same wild enthusiasm, but was somewhat apt to grow weary of the new em- ployment before she had thoroughly tried it. " Yes, of course," she called out, while she was still on her way down stairs, " mamma says you couldn't do her a greater favor. May we begin now?" " I think we will wait until after dinner," said her aunt. "Then we shall not be interrupted, nor be in Rhoda's way." As it was summer, the family dined in the middle of the day, and as soon as propriety would allow, the im- patient children announced that they were ready. " But I think I see the need of some preparations first," said Aunt Jane. " "Washing our hands ? Oh, Aunty, we all washed them just the last thing before dinner!" " And you ate your breakfast yesterday, but that didn't prevent your wanting it again this morning! The very last thing a neat cook does before she goes to work is to 8 SIX LITTLE COOKS. wash her hands and clean her nails carefully ; and, not to disturb Ehoda more than is necessary, you may do it in your own rooms. But I see something else that is wanted — or rather, I dortt see it, because it isn't here!" 4< Oh, I know," said Mabel. " Aprons 1" " But we haven't any," said Grace. " I never wear aprons with my calico dresses." " But an apron is almost as necessary for cooking — for neat cooking, I mean, — as a pair of hands. I have one in my trunk that will do for A my, and you can borrow a couple more from your mother. To-morrow I'll get some gingham and make you each one; that is, if you should ever care to try it again." "Oh, Aunty!" and "Oh, mamma!" broke in chorus from three pairs of rosy lips. " Well — we shall see. And now there is one thing more I should like to have you do. Bring a little blank book, in which you can write down the recipes we try, and if any of them should prove not to be good, we'll cross them off without mercy." The book was quickly brought, and Grace wrote down from her aunt's dictation, as follows: AUNT JANE'S COOKING GLASS. No. 1. — SUSAN'S CAKE. Three cups flour, two of sugar, two- thirds of a cup of butter, one cup of sour milk, three eggs, one teaspoonful soda, two of cream tartar. Two cups seeded raisins, or one of well-washed currants✪ Susan's Cake, added, makes a delicious fruit cake. No. 2. — BAKED CUSTARD. One quart milk, six eggs— omitting two whites — (five will do when they are scarce, and omit one white) — six tablespoonfuls granulated sugar, flavoring to taste✪ Baked Custard. Bake in small cups. No. 3. — POPOVERS. One cup flour, one of milk, one egg, a piece of butter the size of a walnut, a pinch of salt✪ Popovers. Bake in gem pans. " What a funny name, Aunty — popovers 1 " exclaimed Mabel, when Grace had finished writing. " Perhaps you call them muffins here," replied her aunt, " but I like -the old-fashioned name. At all events, I know they are very good." "Why do you call it Susan's cake, Aunt Jane? " asked Grace. u Because our old German cook, Susan, showed me how 10 8IXLITTLBOOOKS. to make it," said Mrs. King (by the way, Mrs. King was Aunt Jane's company name,) " and I iiever happened to meet with it anywhere else."

AI-modernized reading of the original text

So Grace ran off to get her mother's answer, tripping over a footstool as she went, banging her head against the edge of the door in her haste to get round it, and catching her sleeve in a corner of the banisters. She always began everything with the same wild enthusiasm, but was somewhat apt to grow weary of the new employment before she had thoroughly tried it. " Yes, of course," she called out, while she was still on her way down stairs, " mamma says you couldn't do her a greater favor. May we begin now?" " I think we will wait until after dinner," said her aunt. "Then we shall not be interrupted, nor be in Rhoda's way." As it was summer, the family dined in the middle of the day, and as soon as propriety would allow, the impatient children announced that they were ready. " But I think I see the need of some preparations first," said Aunt Jane. " "Washing our hands ? Oh, Aunty, we all washed them just the last thing before dinner!" " And you ate your breakfast yesterday, but that didn't prevent your wanting it again this morning! The very last thing a neat cook does before she goes to work is to wash her hands and clean her nails carefully ; and, not to disturb Rhoda more than is necessary, you may do it in your own rooms. But I see something else that is wanted — or rather, I dortt see it, because it isn't here!" 4< Oh, I know," said Mabel. " Aprons 1" " But we haven't any," said Grace. " I never wear aprons with my calico dresses." " But an apron is almost as necessary for cooking — for neat cooking, I mean, — as a pair of hands. I have one in my trunk that will do for A my, and you can borrow a couple more from your mother. To-morrow I'll get some gingham and make you each one; that is, if you should ever care to try it again." "Oh, Aunty!" and "Oh, mamma!" broke in chorus from three pairs of rosy lips. " Well — we shall see. And now there is one thing more I should like to have you do. Bring a little blank book, in which you can write down the recipes we try, and if any of them should prove not to be good, we'll cross them off without mercy." The book was quickly brought, and Grace wrote down from her aunt's dictation, as follows: No. 1. — SUSAN'S CAKE. Three cups flour, two of sugar, two- thirds of a cup of butter, one cup of sour milk, three eggs, one teaspoonful soda, two of cream tartar. Two cups seeded raisins, or one of well-washed currants, added, makes a delicious fruit cake. No. 2. — BAKED CUSTARD. One quart milk, six eggs— omitting two whites — (five will do when they are scarce, and omit one white) — six tablespoonfuls granulated sugar, flavoring to taste. Bake in small cups. No. 3. — POPOVERS. One cup flour, one of milk, one egg, a piece of butter the size of a walnut, a pinch of salt. Bake in gem pans. " What a funny name, Aunty — popovers 1 " exclaimed Mabel, when Grace had finished writing. " Perhaps you call them muffins here," replied her aunt, " but I like -the old-fashioned name. At all events, I know they are very good." "Why do you call it Susan's cake, Aunt Jane? " asked Grace. u Because our old German cook, Susan, showed me how 10 SIX LITTLE COOKS. to make it," said Mrs. King (by the way, Mrs. King was Aunt Jane's company name,) " and I iiever happened to meet with it anywhere else."

Records on this page

Susan's CakeBaked CustardPopovers

Six little cooks