"Everybody talks as if I was never done eating," said Donald Anderson, gravely; "and I don't think, myself, that I eat more than other people."
His wife knew that he was only pretending; but little Agnes, fancying that his feelings were really hurt, said softly,—
"You must want a great deal, Donald, because you're so dreadfully long!"
At which there was a general laugh, much to the speaker's confusion.
"Now that was very thoughtful of Mrs. Anderson," said Helen, as soon as she could speak. "I was in such a hobble, and longing to find out if Clarice could think of anything. For you must know, Liz, Clarice has all the brains for both of us. I have feet, and she has brains."
"Clarice has feet, too, only she has no shoes," remarked Agnes.
"I was puzzling my head over the same question, and could think of nothing but a huge rice pudding," Clarice answered, smiling at Helen; "and that would be light food for a hungry giant."
"Come along, boys," cried Donald, making for the door. "Even Clarice has a word to throw at me. I won't stay here another moment!"
"But, girls," exclaimed Lizzie, when the three young men were gone, "don't tell me that you have come to not having enough to eat! Oh, don't say that!"
"No, no, Liz there's always enough, I'm thankful to say; but it just happened I had no fresh meat to-day, except enough for papa. To-morrow is the day for the butcher's cart to come, and I took too little last time. It is hard to hit it off exactly. Last time I took too much, and some got bad!"