"Wan bed's not much," said little Jim airily.
"See that you makes it good then," was the answer.
"And don't you be burnin' the steak nor soggin' the potatoes," was her parting charge when she went to her washing on Monday, the first day of school.
"Sure and I won't," was the confident response. "I know how to cook steak and potatoes from watchin' Andy."
That night after school little Jim stepped into Mr. Farnham's store. "I'm needin' a few raisins for my cookin'," he said to Pat.
Pat looked surprised, but handed him the money and little Jim strutted out.
"What did Jim want?" asked Mike when he had opportunity.
"Raisins for his cooking." And both brothers grinned.
"I'll just be doin' the hardest first," said little Jim as, having reached home, he tossed off his hat, tied on his apron, and washed his hands. "And what's that but the puddin'?"
He slapped the pudding dish out on the table, opened his paper of raisins, ate two or three just to be sure they were good, and then hastily sought the cook book. It opened of itself at the pudding page, which little Jim took to be a good omen. "Puddin's the thing," he said.