"'Why, Polly, don't you see how much spring-work I have to do? How can I stop to cook a supper for a dozen little girls?'
"'O, but I'll cook it myself,' said I. 'I can make gingerbread and cup-custards.'
"'And what will you do for bread?' said she.
"I didn't think there would be any trouble about that. 'There was always bread enough,' I said. 'Little girls didn't eat much, and twelve wouldn't make the least difference!'
"Well, but mother wanted to know what I could give them for sauce. The dried apples were all gone, and she couldn't let me have any preserves; she was keeping those for sickness.
"I said I would give them some molasses. I liked molasses, and thought everybody else did.
"Mother smiled.
"'But if I let you have a party,' said she, 'you can't do your knitting. You know I'm in a hurry for you to finish father's socks.'
"That was what made me think of turning it into a knitting-work party. I spoke up in a moment, and said I,—