A FEW days after all this excitement Billy went over to Mr. Goodrich’s farm, which was near that of Mr. Watson, to have a chat with the goats there. On his way to the pasture where the goats were grazing, he had to pass the kitchen door which happened to be open and through which came the delicious odor of hot ginger cookies.
“Yum, yum! How I do love ginger cookies,” thought Billy. “I’ll just take a peek, and see if I cannot get one.”
Cautiously creeping up the kitchen steps, he peeped in. Seeing no one but spying a whole bread board covered with the cookies which had just been taken from the pans to cool, he skipped across the floor and rolled three or four into his mouth, when he heard someone coming up out of the cellar and he made his escape in a hurry. He had reached the bottom of the steps when he saw two little boys coming from the barnyard carrying a basket of eggs between them. He crept under the steps so they would not see him. Within a few feet of the house, one stopped short, grabbed the other by the arm, exclaiming as he did so:
“Joe, I smell ginger cookies! Come, let’s hurry and get Augusta to give us some. Oh, Augusta,” raising his voice, “do give us some cookies! They smell too good for anything!”
“Yes, do, Gustie! I just love your cookies. They are so much better than our cook makes.”
Good-natured Augusta was about to give them half a dozen or so when she noticed that some had already been taken.
“No, I won’t give you any more. You have already helped yourselves to half a pan of them. Do you think I have nothing to do but make cookies for you two to eat like little pigs?”
“What are you talking about, Gusta? We just this minute came in the door. We never touched your cookies!”
“Honestly we didn’t,” said Joe, backing up Ned.