"The best thing was, that there was plenty of pudding, and the children thought it was the very nicest they had ever eaten, particularly as the maid brought to each one the bowl of powdered sugar—so that they might help themselves to as much as they liked—that made a great difference, I can tell you! and they showered down the sugar in grand style—they put it on good and thick, just as much sugar as pudding, and that was what made it so very nice; besides, Edith had whispered to her mamma to give the company 'all the raisinest parts!! because that was the way to be polite to company,' and so her mother did—and they had a grand time picking out the raisins to eat by themselves—and the little spoons went so fast, chopping at the pudding, and clicking on the plates, that Edith's mother said it sounded like little stone-cutters at work—at which they grew perfectly red in their faces laughing at themselves.
"Didn't they have a fine time? I think so—and I laughed very much—oh!—I mean, Edith's papa laughed, when he came home and heard about the grand dinner-party, all out of one small beef-steak, and a poor man's pudding. There! how do you like that story?"
"Oh, papa! I know," exclaimed Bella, laughing, and patting his cheek. "I found you out! it was sister Edith! wasn't it? Dear me! what a funny girl! Did you ever!"
"Yes, it was her, and she was a funny girl—and you are a little darling—and now, kiss papa, and run off to bed."
FIFTH LETTER.
"A letter for Miss Bella Curtis; two cents!" bawled the postman.
He was in a hurry this time, and Bella had to run so fast for the money, that it was quite a wonder that she did not get thin after it—only she laughed, too, just as much—and perhaps that may be the reason.
She began to feel as if she was quite a big woman, to be giving the postman so much business to do; and she carried her new letter in great state to her sister, and listened to the reading of it with all her heart and both her ears.