"See me," Mabel contributed, encouragingly, but Madget's miserable silence was unbroken.
"Let's not pay any attention to her," Peggy whispered. "She's got stage fright. I don't believe she's ever been in a crowd before."
"And such a crowd," Elizabeth groaned. "Where did they all come from?"
"Oh, from all around. These suppers are awfully popular, because you are allowed to eat all you can for thirty-five cents. All these women that have to do their own cooking all the time are so glad to have a meal that somebody else gets ready. Lots of poor old hermits that live alone like to come and stuff themselves in a civilized manner once in a while."
"Civilized!" Elizabeth cried, looking down at the three-pronged fork with which she had been vainly trying to spear her beans. "Sheets for tablecloths, and paper napkins, and these implements of torture."
"Civilization, as my history teacher loves to remark, is all a matter of comparison. Don't eat with your knife, Moses, dear. Nice little boys don't eat with their knives."
Moses looked around inquiringly.
"I ain't got no spoon," he said.
"Why don't you try a fork?"
"I ain't never et with a fork," he said. "Forks is for women."