"But there are no fried. I baked them."
"Well, how funny!" laughed Carrie. "I thought we had it all fixed yesterday. I thought we were to have both fried and baked. Mother always did, you know. You see, we don't like them the same way. Never mind," she added with a beaming smile, quite misunderstanding the look on her cousin's face, "it does n't matter a bit and you must n't feel so bad. It 'll be all right to-morrow, I'm sure."
"Yes, and I want buckwheat cakes, please," piped up Rob.
"All right, you shall have them," agreed Cousin Helen with a smile.
Tom laughed.
"Maybe you don't quite know what you 're getting into, Cousin Helen," he suggested. "If you make buckwheat cakes for Rob—it means graham muffins for Rose."
"And she shall have them; the very next morning, too."
"Oh, no, that will never do. She demands them the same day."
"What!"
"Oh, I thought you didn't understand," chuckled Tom. "When you make one, you have to make both. Mother always did—she had to; 't was the only way she could suit both the twins, and I don't believe you 'll find any other way out of it. As for us—we don't mind; we eat them all!"