A member of the “Pot and Kettle” had the privilege of giving private entertainments to a select few, provided due notice was given in advance, and upon that occasion the Club was his own and all other members were warned to keep off the premises. This gave the “Pot and Kettle” affairs a privacy like that which the member enjoyed in his own home, for it was the unwritten law of the Club that whatever passed within its doors was not to be spoken of elsewhere.
Egerton Savage had long ago discovered that no preparation was necessary to make entertainments successful at the “Pot and Kettle.” The number of a party given, to the steward and his wife, all a host had to do was to put on his white apron and await the arrival of his guests. But to give an added zest to this occasion the fortunate ones had been advised that the party was “for children only.”
And as children they came. Ogden Spencer, Larry Kane and Coley Van Duyn in a motor direct from the Cosmos Club arrived first and hurried upstairs with their packages from the costumers to dress; the Perrines and Betty Tremaine followed; then Mrs. Pennington, the chaperon, and a limousine full of débutantes; Jane Loring with Honora Ledyard and Bibby Worthington; and Dirwell De Lancey with Clifford Benson, and Freddy Sackett. Nina Jaffray had driven out alone. Most of the girls had dressed at home and arrived ready for the fray, and after a few finishing touches in the ladies’ dressing-room upstairs were ready to greet their host, at the foot of the stairs. Egerton Savage, his thin legs emerging from velvet knee breeches, as Little Boy Blue, met Little Miss Muffett, Old King Cole, Old Mother Hubbard, Peter Piper, Margery Daw, Bobby Shafto, Jack Spratt, Solomon Grundy, and all of the rest of the nursery crew. Nellie Pennington’s débutantes scattered about the building like a pack of inquisitive terriers, investigating every nook and cranny, peering into cupboards and closets and punctuating the clatter of arrival with pleasant little yelps of delight.
As they all assembled at last in the kitchen, large white aprons, which covered their costumes from neck to foot, were handed out and the real business of the evening was begun. Egerton Savage, chief-cook and arbiter, with a shrewd knowledge of the capabilities of débutantes, handed each of the young ladies a loaf of bread and a long toasting fork, their mission being to provide the toast, as well as the toasts of the night; and presently an odor of scorching bread pervaded the place.
Jane rebelled.
“I simply won’t be subjected to such an indignity, Mr. Savage,” she laughed. “I can cook—really I can.”
He eyed her askant and laughed.
“You must be Mistress Mary, Quite Contrary, aren’t you?”
“I am, and I won’t cook toast.”