Brownie's slip said:
"If you were ordering breakfast to-morrow morning, what would be the nicest things you could think of? And could you make them all?"
And when Jack opened his folded paper he read:
"Plan a Sunday night supper with nothing but what you can make yourself."
"Ask me a hard one," Jack said, waving his paper around his head.
Mother Blair took a book and began to read to herself while the pencils scratched away on the pads and the receipt books were consulted over and over. It was only a few moments before, "Done!" said Mildred, and "Done!" said Brownie. Jack was a trifle slower, and they had to wait for him to finish. It was not so easy an examination as he had thought at first.
"Read the question first and then the answer; you begin, Mildred," said Mother Blair. So Mildred read her question, and then taking her pad read what she had put down:
"For luncheon I would have first, cream of celery soup, made by the rule I copied under cream soups; I learned how to make those when Mother was sick. After that I would have creamed eggs on toast. (You know I can make those, Mother; I made them just last week.) And with them I'd have hashed brown potatoes; that rule I know by heart. And then for dessert I'd stew those poor pears, like apple sauce, you know, only I wouldn't cut them up but keep them in halves the way Norah does; and I'd have the cookies with them."
"Good, Mildred—splendid! I did not know you could manage so well Now let's see what Brownie would have for breakfast."
"Cereal first; see the rule of cereal with dates,—only I'd leave out the dates this time—and then I'd have muffins; of course, I can make those. And coffee, and poached eggs. Do you think that is a good breakfast, Mother?"