CHAPTER XVI

THE DOLLS' KITCHEN PARTY

"NOW, everything is ready," she said, glancing carefully at the table she had set with her little dishes; "I'll go up and bring the dolls. Wait a minute, Mary Frances," she added after a moment's pause. "Let's see if everything is ready. There's

Thimble Biscuits
Jam Cocoa

"Better look in the oven!"

"Oh, my, I'm glad you 'thought me,' Aunty Rolling Pin," cried Mary Frances, opening the oven door.

"Oh, dear me! Most of the Thimble Biscuits are burnt up and the big ones are just done, I guess!"

"The thicker things are, the 'slower' the oven, child. The thinner, the hotter the oven——"

"Aunty Rolling Pin," cried Mary Frances, not realizing she had interrupted, "there are enough Thimble Biscuits not burnt to go 'round. Isn't that good? And the dolls can't make themselves sick with them."

"It's not much of a waste," smiled Aunty Rolling Pin, "and (seeming to be seriously thinking) the dolls can't make themselves sick on them—eating too many, I suppose."

"Well," said Mary Frances, "you see, it's like this:

"When I my dolls invite to tea,
It is a pretty sight to see
The things one seldom gets to eat
All on the table spread, so sweet;
But to my dollies I explain,
Don't eat too much—you'll have a pain.
"Then, just to save them such a trial,
I let them sit and look a while
At cakes, and tarts, and candies, too.
Then eat them up myself—wouldn't you?
For thus they're saved from being ill,
And I, likewise, a doctor's bill.
But—just between you, dear, and me—
They couldn't eat at all, you see."

And away ran Mary Frances to bring the dolls.

* * * * * * *

"It was a lovely Tea Party, wasn't it, Angie?" sighed Mary Frances, putting her family to bed after it was all over.

"And you did 'behave a credit' to your mother. I feel sure now you will remember all I've taught you. Not one of you would eat soup from the point of a spoon, nor spread a whole slice of bread at once, nor leave your spoon in your cup, which is a great comfort to a mother. Only Peg, you poor child, you should not have spilled that cocoa down your best dress. But 'Children will be children,' I 'spose—and you're very dear children."

("I wouldn't have them, for the world, jealous of the Kitchen People—and I've neglected them shamefully of late.")

* * * * * * *

"I'm not much taken with those things called 'dolls,' Aunty Rolling Pin," said Sauce Pan, seating himself on the edge of the top closet-shelf, and crossing one leg over his knee. "They're not much use."