"I don't know," said Jimmieboy. "What?"
"An old copy-book with nothing in it. That's pretty good!"
At this moment the telephone bell rang, and he had to go see what was wanted.
"Excuse me for a moment, Jimmieboy," the Imp said, as he started to leave the room. "I've got to send a message for somebody. I'll turn on one of the picture-books, so that while I am gone you will have something to look at."
The Imp then fastened a wire to the battery, turned on the current, and directing Jimmieboy's attention to the sheet of white canvas at the end of the library, left the room.
[to be continued.]
[GIRLS AND CHAFING-DISHES.]
BY CHRISTINE TERHUNE HERRICK.
Never before was the chafing-dish so popular as now. And yet, in spite of the books that have been written directing how it is to be used, and the classes that have been formed for learning its capabilities, there is still a very general impression that its chief function is to cook Welsh-rarebit. As there is a prejudice against these as unwholesome, it is not strange, perhaps, that young girls and lads have had little practice with the chafing-dish. It has been rather reserved for their seniors, whose digestions may be supposed to have become case-hardened. But there are many other delicious dishes besides Welsh-rarebit which may be cooked over an alcohol flame. Even this much-abused compound, if properly prepared, and eaten at a reasonable hour, need not cause dyspepsia. It has gained a bad name because it is usually devoured late at night, and not followed by the vigorous exercise that is necessary if one would digest cheese comfortably.