“Or pocket book rolls—the same thing, only smaller,” said Ethel Blue.
“I haven’t made any since we were at Chautauqua; I shall have to look them up again,” confessed Dorothy.
“I remember,” said Ethel Brown. “You scald two cups of milk and then put into it three tablespoonfuls of butter, two teaspoonfuls of sugar and a teaspoonful and a half of salt. When it has cooled off a little add a dissolved yeast cake and three cups of flour and beat it like everything.”
“Command me on the day of the party,” offered Roger politely.
“We will,” giggled the girls, and they said it so earnestly that Roger gazed at them suspiciously.
“Cover it up and let it rise; then cut it through and through and knead in two and a half cups more flour. Let it rise again. Put it on a floured board, knead it, and roll it out to half an inch in thickness. Then cut out the rolls with a floured biscuit cutter. Brush one-half of each roll with melted butter and fold the round in halves.”
“Won’t they slide open?”
“Not if you pinch the edges together. Arrange them in your pan and cover them over so they can rise in comfort. Then bake them in a hot oven for from twelve to fifteen minutes,” ended Ethel Brown.
“They aren’t as easy as Della’s lightning biscuits, but they’re so good when they’re done that you don’t mind having taken the trouble about them.”
“Now for the sweeties,” insisted Roger. “I’m afraid you’ll forget them and my tooth is as sweet as ever it was.”