Holiday Stories for Young People | Page 8

up from
head to foot."
"Well, if the club adopts the plan it will not be hard to make such
aprons. We must certainly have caps, and those should be thought of at
once."
Grandmamma was always my resort when I was at my wits' end, and so
I went to her with a question: "Had she anything which would do for
our caps?"
"There must be something in my lower left-hand wardrobe drawer,"
said grandmamma, considering. "Thee may bring me a green bag,
which thee will see in the far corner, and then we will talk about those
caps in earnest."
That wonderful green bag proved a sort of fairy find. There were
remnants of mull, Swiss, jaconet and other fabrics--white, plain and
barred. Grandmamma cut us a pattern. At four the seven girls were
assembled in her room. Jeanie on a hassock at her feet, the remainder
grouped as they chose.

How our fingers flew! It was just a quarter to six when every cap was
finished, and each girl had decided upon her special color. We hadn't
the ribbon to make our bows, and were obliged to wait till somebody
should go to the city to procure it; but each girl knew her favorite color,
and that was a comfort. Linda Curtis chose blue, and I would wear
rose-tints (my parents did not insist on my wearing Quaker gray, and I
dressed like "the world's people"), Veva chose old gold, and each of the
others had a preference.
"You will look like a field of daisies and clover, dearies," said
grandmamma.
"There!" cried Jeanie. "Why not have a four-leaved clover as our badge?
There isn't anything prettier."
The four-leaved clover carried the day, though one or two did speak for
the daisy, the maiden-hair fern and the pussy willow. All this was
before the subject of the national flower had been agitated.
"Where are my pupils?" Miss Muffet appeared promptly at the hour,
and wore a most business-like air as she began her instructions.
"Compressed yeast has found its way to Bloomdale, my dears," she
said, "so that I shall not have to begin by telling you how to make yeast.
That useful lesson may wait till another day. Before we do anything, I
will give you some rules for good family bread, and you may write
them down, if you please.
"1. Always sift your flour thoroughly."
Seven pencils wrote that rule in seven notebooks.
"2. Mix the dough as soft as it can be handled. You must never have it
too stiff.
"3. Set it to rise in a moderately warm place.
"4. You cannot knead bread too much. The more it is kneaded the
firmer, sweeter and lighter it will be."

When we had written this down Miss Muffet remarked:
"Mrs. Deacon Ead's bread always takes the prize at the county fair. It
looks like pound-cake. I don't want you girls to make flabby, porous
bread, full of air-holes. I want you to learn how to knead it till it is just
like an India-rubber cushion."
"If the dough is soft won't it stick to our fingers?" said Marjorie, with a
dainty little shiver.
"Powder your hands very lightly with flour. That will keep the dough
from sticking," said Miss Muffet, "and you will gain a knack after a
while.
"5. The oven must be steadily hot, but not too quick, for bread. Hold
your hand in it while you count thirty, and it will be right for putting in
your bread.
"6. Grease your pans.
"7. When taking bread from the oven loosen the loaves from the pans,
stand them upright, and let them lean against something to keep them
in that position. Cover them lightly with a cloth.
"8. Do not put them away until they are cold."
We all gathered about the table, but were disappointed that there was
nothing for us to do except look on.
She took two quarts of flour and sifted it thoroughly into a large
wooden bowl. In one pint of tepid water she dissolved a
half-tablespoonful of salt and half a yeast cake. Pouring this into a
hollow in the middle of the flour she gradually drew the flour into it
from all sides, working it with swift, light touches until it was a
compact mass. She pounced and pulled and beat this till it was as
smooth and round as a ball, dusted a little flour over it, covered it with
a thick cloth and set it aside.

"That is all that can be done to-night, girls," she said. "Be here every
one of you at six in the morning, if Milly can be up so early. The bread
will be ready then for another kneading. You must not overlook the fact,
girls, that bread is not