"Children: You have done so well in your cooking lessons that I am going to give each of you a real cook book, for you know now how to use one. There are many other dishes beside those you have learned already that I am sure you will want to know how to make, too. All you have to do is to turn to any rule here and follow it carefully, exactly as you do in the books you have made yourselves. Mildred, here is your book— I present it with pride! It's a regular grown-up cook book, only it's a very easy one. And, Brownie, yours is a little girl's cook book; you will love it, and I present it with pride, too, my dear child! And Jack—"
"I do hope mine has plenty of cake in it, Mother, and lovely desserts all made with gelatine, and fancy salads with fixings on them; you know those are the things I really like to make," said Jack demurely.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," laughed his mother, "but yours is a regular boy's cook book, all about—"
"Camping!" interrupted Jack, as he saw its title. "Well, now, that's about the right kind of a book for me, after all. Say, Mother Blair, I think your prizes are great."
"So do I," murmured Mildred, who was deep in a rule for a perfectly delicious dessert with whipped cream and nuts in it.
But Brownie did not say a word. She was reading the story in her book about how some children learned to cook.
