“And I want to make some, too,” put in Flossie.
“No, dear, you are too little,” Nan replied. “But you can watch me, and, when you get a little older, you will know how.”
“But I want to make some myself,” insisted Flossie. However, they would not let her, so she had to be content to sit in a chair near the kitchen table and watch while Nan’s mother showed her how to mix the dough and roll out the crust, cutting it into little circles which, when filled with cut-up peaches and baked, would be tarts.
But when Nan had a batch of the tarts ready to go into the oven, she left the kitchen a minute, and this was just the chance Flossie had been waiting for.
“I know how to make peach tarts,” said the little girl to herself. “I’ll show ’em I can make tarts just as good as Nan.”
All the things Nan had used were on the table, flour, milk, mixing bowls, and the like. Flossie sifted some flour into a brown bowl, poured in some milk, added a little salt and lard, and then began to stir the mixture.
But she found that the table was too high for her to reach in comfort, even while standing on a chair.
“I’ll set the bowl on the floor,” decided Flossie. “Then I can stir my tarts and then I’ll cut them out, like Nan did, and put in the peaches and bake ’em.”
She lifted the bowl off the table and was climbing down out of the chair when suddenly she slipped. Just as Nan opened the door to come back and clean up, she saw Flossie fall to the floor with the bowl of dough.
Crash! What a sound it was!