“‘Me don’t like pepper,’ said Baby, in a disconsolate voice.
“‘Not “peppering,”—preparing,’ corrected Emmy, over Reginald’s shoulder. ‘Baby shan’t have any bad pepper. Brother didn’t read right.’
“‘We haven’t got any iron pot,’ suggested Alice.
“‘Nor any soap-cakes,’ said Nora.
“‘Soup-cakes, little goose!’ cried the discomfited Reggy. ‘Nobody eats soap. Well, then, we must think of something different. Let’s see what else these people had.’ And he read again,—
“‘We sat down to breakfast, some biscuits and a cocoa-nut full of salt butter being placed on the ground. We toasted our biscuit, and while it was hot applied the butter, and contrived to make a hearty meal.’
“‘Bully!’ cried Jack. ‘Buttered toast is first-rate!’
“‘But there isn’t any butter,’ said Emmy.
“‘Nor any biscuit,’ added Alice, timidly.
“‘I declare,’ shouted Reggy, closing the book with a flap, ‘how in the world is a fellow going to get supper for you as long as you keep standing round telling him there’s nothing to eat!’