"Well, I'll forgive you for taking away my toy, inasmuch as I do like pop-overs. Let me help you with them, Bettina; this is one place where you can use my strong right arm."
"Yes, indeed I can, Bob. I'll never forget those splendid pop-overs that you made the first time you ever tried. They look simple, but not very many people can make good ones. The secret of it is all in the beating," said she, as she stirred up the smooth paste, "and then in having the gem pans and the oven very hot."
"Well, these'll be good ones then," said Bob, as he set about his task. "You light the oven, Betty, and put the gem pans in it, and then before you have changed things from the dining-room to the alcove, I'll have these pop-overs popping away just as they ought to do!"
The percolator was bubbling and the pop-overs were nearly done when they heard Mr. MacGregor's step. "He's exactly on time," chuckled Bob. "That's the kind of a methodical fellow he is in everything."
"Well, there's no time when promptness is more appreciated than at meal-time," said Betty, decidedly. "I like him."
"Come on out here!" called Bob, cheerfully. "This is the place in which we begin the day! We'll show you the kind of a breakfast that'll put some romance into your staid old head. I made the pop-overs myself, and I know they're the best you ever saw—likewise the biggest—and they'll soon be the best you've ever eaten!"
When Bob had finished removing the pop-overs from their pans, the two men took their places at the table to the merry tune of the sizzling bacon Bettina was broiling.
"I never entertained a stranger so informally before," said she.
"And I was never such a comfortable guest as I am at this minute," said Mr. MacGregor, looking down at his breakfast, which consisted of:
Grapefruit
Oatmeal
Bacon Pop-Overs
Coffee