AT THE COOKING CLASS
“Oh, am I late? I’m so sorry! My dear Miss Cooke, have I kept your class waiting? Now don’t look at me like that! Cheery and blithe, please. And Milly,—just wait a minute till I fold up this veil; they get so rubbishy if you don’t,—truly, I started early enough, but, you see, I met Roddy Dow, and—we took a walk around the block,—it’s such a sunny, shiny, country kind of a day, we just had to. Of course, I told him I was in a hurry to get to class, and I babbled on about all the whipped angel food and eggless omelets we’re going to learn to make, and he said,—girls, what do you think he said? He said I was fluffy-minded! Me! the greatest living example of a young woman with earnest aims and high ideals! Well,—so I said—yes, yes, Miss Cooke, I am folding it up as fast as I can,—I’ll be ready in a minute,—don’t make that foolish noise, pretty lady. Shall I sit here by Flossy Fay? Oh, what winsome looking creatures! Live crabs? Are they? And we’re to learn to make “Crab Flakes à la Pittsburg?” Oh, how perfectly gorgeous! Do you know, Flossy, I met that Pittsburg man last night,—that Mr. Van Roxie. Yes, the one with one lung and thirty millions. He’s too ducky for words! He didn’t approve of me at first,—I sat next to him at dinner, you know,—because I asked him whether he’d rather talk politics or have a lover’s quarrel. He looked at me sort of gimletty,—if you know what I mean,—and he said I was a Pink and White Mistake! Me! the Only Original Magazine-Cover Girl! Well—so I said,—yes, Miss Cooke, I’m listening. Certainly I know what you said; you said,—well, you said something about eggs. No, I don’t recall exactly what,—to me, there’s always an air of mystery about eggs, anyway. And, besides, most all the recipes are eggless, nowadays,—it’s the latest fad. Oh, cream the yolks? Now, isn’t that funny? My new mauve messaline has a cream yoke,—that heavy lace, you know,—I think they call it,—My heavens and earth! Miss Cooke! One of the crabs is loose! Oh, girls, get up on your chairs! That’s right, Flossy,—climb up on this table, by me!
“O-o-ooh! Police! Turn in an alarm, somebody! Miss Cooke! Don’t try to pick him up! He’ll attack you,—and rend you limb from limb!
“Don’t you step on him! I’m a termagant S. P. C. A. and I won’t see a poor dumb crab cruelly treated in my presence! There! He’s run under that cupboardy thing! You’ll have to poke him out again!
“Oh, Flossy, don’t jump about so! This table will break down; it feels wriggly now.
“Please, Miss Cooke, don’t scold me! I can’t help feeling nervous when that terrifying monster is walking abroad. Well, I will keep still, but maybe I won’t resign from this Cooking Class, if we have to have such frisky viands!
“And, Miss Cooke, I hate to seem intrusive,—but there’s another crab flew the coop,—and he’s grabbing your apron string,—it’s untied.
“Oh, I thought that would make you jump ‘Calm yourself,’—as you said to me; ‘he won’t hurt you, if you pick him up properly,’—you said.
“Oo-oo-ee-ee! They’re all out! The whole dozen! Oh, Miss Cooke, scramble up here, for your life!
“Cissy Gay, if you get up here, too, this table will break down! Get on the big table; never mind the eggs. Will you look at those awful beasts! They’re all over the floor. Oh, I’m so frightened! I wish Roddy Dow had come in with me! I wish Mr. Willing was here. I even wish I had that Pittsburg man to take care of me! Let’s all scream, and maybe the Janitor will come. Oh, there you are! Please, Janitor, brush up these crabs somebody spilled, won’t you?
“Well! I never saw a man afraid, before! Get down off that chair, Dolan! What do you mean? I’ll report you to the owner of this building! No, they won’t hurt you! You just pick ’em up by one hind leg, and they can’t bite. I’d do it myself,—only I’ve just been manicured.
“Talk about new-fangled housekeeping devices,—what is most needed is a crab pick-upper. That would fill a longer felt want than all their fireless napkins and paper cookers.
“You know, they cook now in paper bags. No, I don’t know much about it, but I’m going to learn. They say it’s a great time-saver. I suppose they just take the paper bags of rice or beans or anything, as they come from the grocer’s, and put them on to boil. I expect they take the strings off before they send the bags to the table. It’s largely theoretical, of course. All these new movements are.
“But I’m for ’em! This cooking class, now; I only wish I could have brought Mr. Dow.
“Sitting this way, cross-legged on a kitchen table, with a frilly, bibby apron on, I know I look exactly like a Gibsty picture. And it’s all wasted on you girls!
“Crabs all corralled? Thank you, Dolan. Now, Miss Cooke, shall we go on with the lesson?
“Oh, you’re sorry, but the time is all used up!
“Well, never mind, Cooksy-Wooksy. I think they must have been suffragette crabs,—they agitated so terribly.
“And I don’t mind missing this lesson,—I’ve had enough deviled crabs for one day!”
ÆSOP UP TO DATE
THE MILKMAID AND HER PAIL OF MILK
A milkmaid having been a Good Girl for a long Time, and Careful in her Work, her mistress gave her a Pail of New Milk all for herself.
With the Pail on her Head she tripped Gayly away to the Market, saying to Herself:
“How Happy I am! For this Milk I shall get a Shilling; and with that Shilling I shall buy Twenty of the Eggs Laid by our Neighbor’s fine Fowls. These Eggs I shall put under Mistress’s old Hen, and even if only Half of the Chicks grow up and Thrive before next Fair time comes Round, I shall be able to Sell them for a Good Guinea. Then I shall Buy me a Monte Carlo Coat and an Ermine Stole, and I will Look so Bewitching that Robin will Come Up and Offer to be Friends again. But I won’t make up Too Easily; when he Brings me Violets, I shall Toss My Head So-and—”
Here the Milkmaid gave her Head the Toss she was thinking about, and the Pail of Milk was Dislodged from its resting-Place on her Head.
But, being a Member of a Ladies’ Physical Culture Club, she Deftly Caught the Pail and Replaced It.
All Turned Out as she had planned, and when Robin married her he gave her an Electric Automobile.
Moral:
Don’t Discount Your Chickens Before they are Hatched.