"Father," says Grace, "I want to have a party next week."
"You sha'n't go to havin' your parties, Grace. I always have to eat bits and ends a fortnight after you have one, and I won't have it so." And so Uncle Lot walked out, and Aunt Sally and Miss Grace proceeded to make the cake and pies for the party.
When Uncle Lot came home, he saw a long array of pies and rows of cakes on the kitchen table.
"Grace—Grace—Grace, I say! What is all this here flummery for?"
"Why, it is to eat, father," said Grace, with a good-natured look of consciousness.
Uncle Lot tried his best to look sour; but his visage began to wax comical as he looked at his merry daughter; so he said nothing, but quietly sat down to his dinner.
"Father," said Grace, after dinner, "we shall want two more candlesticks next week."
"Why, can't you have your party with what you've got?"
"No, father, we want two more."
"I can't afford it, Grace—there's no sort of use on't—and you sha'n't have any."