"Baby's been fretting a little; 'cause she's hungry, I guess," said Zillah, putting a bit of gingerbread in the little one's hand.
"Yes; mother said you should give her some cake; and she'll come directly and take her awhile. Now let's begin to eat, for I'm as hungry as a big black bear."
"So am I," piped the small voices of Don and Fan. "But father always asks a blessing first."
"Yes," assented Zillah, stopping short in her distribution of the good things; "and mother does it when he's away, but—" and she glanced from one to the other of the childish but grave faces of the little group.
"I'll do it," said Cyril, closing his merry blue eyes and folding his chubby hands. "O Lord, we thank thee for the ginger bread and turnovers and—and all the good things, Amen. Now gi me mine, Zil," opening his eyes wide and holding out both hands.
"Ladies first, you know," answered the sister, "and we must all spread our handkerchiefs in our laps to keep the greasy crumbs from our clothes."
"Oh, yes; I fordot. Help Ada and Fan and yourself, then Don too, and me last 'cause we're the gentlemen."
"No, myself last, because that's the way mother does."
"And mother and father always do everything right," commented Ada, beginning upon her sandwich.
They were rosy, healthy children and their appetites were keen; but they were not selfish or greedy, and the supply of food was more than amply sufficient for all.