"I didn't know the cat was in there. Well, she'll find out her mistake. I'm not going in till I get this pie done, any way. The baby's all right, and that's enough."
As soon as mamma's hands were at liberty, she thought she would just look in and see what kept the darling so quiet. "All right," indeed! What a spectacle she beheld!
On the bricks before the fire, her pretty white skirts much too near the ashes, sat Baby Lila, having a glorious time. She had found her dear little plate empty; but the brown pitcher was full enough. She had dropped the plate, dipped the feather-duster into the yeast, and proceeded to spread it about, on her clean clothes, on the bricks, on the floor, everywhere.
So, when mamma opened the door, she saw this wee daughter besmeared from head to foot, the yeast dripping over her head and face as she held the duster aloft in both hands.
Just then papa came in by another door. "O John! do you see this child! What if she had put the duster into the fire instead of the yeast!" Mamma shuddered as she took little Lila into her lap for another bath and change of clothes. Papa standing by said,—
"You don't seem to mind having all that to do again."
"Indeed I don't. To think how near she was to that fire! I can never be thankful enough that she dusted the yeast instead of the coals. But how do you suppose she ever got over there?"
S. D. L. H.
