“An’ I belave, mum,” said the cook, “that ’twas the dhivil, savin’ yer prisince; an’, saints presarve us! I ’ve heerd at home as how he hated dese new ways of cookin’, because dheres no foine place for him to sit in the corner of, bad luck to him! It was the dhivil, sure, mum. Did iver ye schmell the loike av that?”
Mrs. Burton snuffed the air, and in spite of the loathsome odor of burning grease she detected a strong sulphurous odor.
“An’ he went and tookted my last bun wif him too,” complained Toddie, who had been cautiously approaching the oven in which he had placed his pan. “Bad ole debbil! I fought he didn’t have noffin but roasted peoples at hizh tea-parties!”
The whole party was too much agitated and mystified to pursue their investigations further. The fire was allowed to die out and Mrs. Burton hurried up-stairs and to the front of the house with the children.
Mr. Burton on his way home was met by his wife and nephews, and heard a tale which had reached blood-curdling proportions. His descent to the scene of the disaster was reluctantly consented to by his wife; but he was unable to discover the cause of the accident, and he succeeded in getting his hands shockingly dirty. He hurried to his bed-chamber to wash them, and in a moment he roared from the head of the stairs:
“Boys, which of you has been up here to-day?”
There was no response for a moment; then Budge shouted:
“Not me.”
Mrs. Burton looked inquiringly at Toddie, and the young gentleman averted his eyes. Then Mr. Burton hurried down-stairs, looked at both boys and asked: “Why did you meddle with my powder-flask, Toddie?”
“Why—why—why, Aunt Alice wouldn’t put no powder in my buns to make ’em light after I rolled ’em heavy—said ’twouldn’t do ’em no good. But my papa says ’tain’t never no harm to try, so I dzust wented and gotted some powder out of your brass bottle dat’s hanging on your gun, an’ I didn’t say nuffin’ to nobody, ’cauzh I wanted to s’prise ’em. An’ while I was waitin’ for it to get done, bad ole debbil came an’ hookted it. Guesh it must have been real good else he wouldn’t have done it, ’cauzh he’s such a smart fief he can steal de nicest fings he wantsh—whole cakeshop windows full.”