Mother Hubbard did her blundering best; but ill luck seemed to pursue the cooking.
"Needn't call that book the 'Young Housekeeper's Friend.' It's an enemy, a real bitter enemy," cried she, in great excitement. "Wood is hotter than coal, too. Mrs. Fixfax must have given it to me to plague me. How it does burn things up! I hope beefsteak is cheap. I won't ask anybody to eat this, all covered with ashes. I'll never try to broil any again on top of a stick of wood! I won't try that 'steamboat pudding.' Sounds as if 'twould burn, and I know it would. Let 'em go without pudding."
After the most tiresome afternoon she had ever spent in her life, Mother Hubbard went down with Fly, whom she dared not leave by herself, to call her boarders to dinner.
This was Mrs. Allen's "reception-day," the day on which she always staid at home, that her friends might be sure of finding her in.
"Not at home," Nathaniel had kept saying to visitors that afternoon. But one of them, a queenly-looking lady, would not be satisfied with the answer.
"Are the children here?" demanded she. "Those nieces and nephews?"
Nathaniel did not know exactly what reply to make; so he invited the lady into the parlor, and went to inquire.
Dr. Moonshine and Lady Magnifico were in the drawing-room, looking over engravings.
"Gnat, gnat, you troublesome insect," said the doctor. "I heard auntie tell you we were not to be disturbed."
"But what could I say?" asked the insect, humbly. "I couldn't tell her 'not at home.'"
"You must say, 'Beg to be excused;' those are the proper words," said my lady.
"Yes," added the doctor; "go, there's a good gnat, and sting 'em like sixty, if they don't start quick."
Nathaniel obeyed, looking as dignified as ever, though nothing but a strong sense of propriety kept him from smiling.
He had not crossed the hall before Mother Hubbard entered the parlor, dragging Fly, who was pinned to her skirts.
Mother Hubbard was flushed and excited, her nose dusted with flour, her cap pulled entirely over her forehead; and she was saying, in a loud tone, "I can't take any peace of my life, Fly Clifford, you know I can't, unless I get you fastened somehow."
"I don't 'low folks to _fassin_ me," responded Fly, shaking her lace cap in a blaze of wrath; "the next that _fassins_ me, I'll _scwatch who did it_!"