“Sometimes it is gingerbread, or maybe plump brown cookies”
“Isn’t she dear!” cried one and another, as they gazed admiringly at the quaint figure all dressed in white, which sparkled like frost on the window pane. Dainty bunches of rosebuds adorned her bonnet, and altogether she was a sweet picture.
“My dears,” she cried, well aware of the admiration she excited.
“I know I am sweet as well as you do, but lest I become over-proud I will show you my real self growing, which really isn’t anything to look at.”
As she talked she untied her bonnet strings and untwisted one of the curls that bobbed about her snowy neck. The audience was startled to hear a squeak like the dying gasp of a rubber balloon.
As the squeak lingeringly died away, Sugar grew thinner and taller, and presently there she was turned into a long yellow sugar cane.
A shout of laughter greeted this transformation, as Sugar Cane made an elaborate bow, beaming upon them as though delighted to see them.
“Allow me to make you acquainted with Mrs. Sugar’s better half,” he said.
“Butter half, you mean,” shouted Vinegar.