"Perhaps, after all, it is not an advantage to have so many helpers," said Tom.
"At any rate," said Mrs. Herbert; "you will have proved the truth of the proverb, 'Too many cooks spoil the broth'—I mean the toffee. And after all, in cookery, as in other things, nothing teaches like failure which is made the most of."
"Never mind, Mary," whispered Margaret, as the burnt toffee was carried off to cool. "We have made a good many excellent dishes when we two were the only cooks, and mother was the teacher; we will try toffee again another day, when we are by ourselves."
On that occasion I think we may perhaps venture to predict that the toffee will be a greater success.
THE RIVAL MOTHERS.
aid Mistress Bear to Mistress Fox,
"Your girl is very small."
Quoth Mistress Fox, "It is not so;
Your boy is not so tall."
"My boy is tall and sturdy too,"
Cried Mistress Bear with ire;
"And he's a handsome little lad,
The image of his sire."
"His sire! Ha, ha! why, all the world
Says, 'Ugly as a bear.'"
The very trees with laughter shook,
As thus they wrangled there.
"Ho, ho! dear ladies, what's the fuss?"
Two waggish bears stray'd by.
The gentle mothers told their tale,
A tear-drop in each eye.
"Call here the foxes," and they came.
One was an ancient sage.
"Now place the young folk back to back,
And simply state their age."
The dames obey'd, the infants laugh'd;
Spoke he, Reynard so wise,
"'Tis useless; size and beauty lie
In love's fond, partial eyes."