Good Cheer Stories Every Child Should Know | Page 5

kind of sweetmeat was finished, she skimmed it, and put it away
to cool in enormous bowls before potting. She did not use for this the
usual little glass or earthen jars, but great stone ones, like those in the
"Forty Thieves." Not only did these take less time to fill, but they were

safe from the children. The scum and the scrapings were something, to
be sure. But there was little Toto, who thought this was not enough. He
would have jumped into one of the bowls if they had not held him.
Mother Mitchel, who thought of everything, had ordered two hundred
great kneading troughs, wishing that all the utensils of this great work
should be perfectly new. These two hundred troughs, like her other
materials, were all delivered punctually and in good order. The pastry
cooks rolled up their sleeves and began to knead the dough with cries
of "Hi! Hi!" that could be heard for miles. It was odd to see this army
of bakers in serried ranks, all making the same gestures at once, like
well-disciplined soldiers, stooping and rising together in time, so that a
foreign ambassador wrote to his court that he wished his people could
load and fire as well as these could knead. Such praise a people never
forgets.
When each troughful of paste was approved it was moulded with care
into the form of bricks, and with the aid of the engineer-in-chief, a
young genius who had gained the first prize in the school of
architecture, the majestic edifice was begun. Mother Mitchel herself
drew the plan; in following her directions, the young engineer showed
himself modest beyond all praise. He had the good sense to understand
that the architecture of tarts and pies had rules of its own, and that
therefore the experience of Mother Mitchel was worth all the scientific
theories in the world.
The inside of the monument was divided into as many compartments as
there were kinds of fruits. The walls were no less than four feet thick.
When they were finished, twenty-four ladders were set up, and
twenty-four experienced cooks ascended them. These first-class artists
were each of them armed with an enormous cooking spoon. Behind
them, on the lower rounds of the ladders, followed the kitchen boys,
carrying on their heads pots and pans filled to the brim with jam and
sweetmeats, each sort ready to be poured into its destined compartment.
This colossal labour was accomplished in one day, and with wonderful
exactness.
When the sweetmeats were used to the last drop, when the great spoons

had done all their work, the twenty-four cooks descended to earth again.
The intrepid Mother Mitchel, who had never quitted the spot, now
ascended, followed by the noble Fanfreluche, and dipped her finger
into each of the compartments, to assure herself that everything was
right. This part of her duty was not disagreeable, and many of the
scullions would have liked to perform it. But they might have lingered
too long over the enchanting task. As for Mother Mitchel, she had been
too well used to sweets to be excited now. She only wished to do her
duty and to insure success.
All went on well. Mother Mitchel had given her approbation. Nothing
was needed now but to crown the sublime and delicious edifice by
placing upon it the crust--that is, the roof, or dome. This delicate
operation was confided to the engineer-in-chief who now showed his
superior genius. The dome, made beforehand of a single piece, was
raised in the air by means of twelve balloons, whose force of ascension
had been carefully calculated. First it was directed, by ropes, exactly
over the top of the tart; then at the word of command it gently
descended upon the right spot. It was not a quarter of an inch out of
place. This was a great triumph for Mother Mitchel and her able
assistant.
But all was not over. How should this colossal tart be cooked? That
was the question that agitated all the people of the Greedy country, who
came in crowds--lords and commons--to gaze at the wonderful
spectacle.
Some of the envious or ill-tempered declared it would be impossible to
cook the edifice which Mother Mitchel had built; and the doctors were,
no one knows why, the saddest of all. Mother Mitchel, smiling at the
general bewilderment, mounted the summit of the tart; she waved her
crutch in the air, and while her cat miaowed in his sweetest voice,
suddenly there issued from the woods a vast number of masons,
drawing wagons of well-baked bricks, which they had prepared in
secret. This sight silenced the ill-wishers and filled the hearts of the
Greedy with hope.
In two days an enormous furnace was built around and above the

colossal