“There is only one potato,” giggled Sally.
“Cut it in four pieces, so it will go into the little kettle, and put the bits into cold water till it is time to cook them.”
“No, indeed! just pare it and cut it up, and put it into the steamer over the pot. It is drier so, though it takes longer to cook.”
Here a scratching at the door caused Sally to run and open it, when Kit appeared with a covered basket in his mouth.
“Here’s the butcher’s boy!” cried Daisy, much tickled at the idea, as she relieved him of his load, whereat he licked his lips and began to beg, evidently thinking that it was his own dinner, for he often carried it to his master in that way. Being undeceived, he departed in great wrath and barked all the way down-stairs, to ease his wounded feelings.
In the basket were two bits of steak (doll’s pounds), a baked pear, a small cake, and paper with them on which Asia had scrawled, “For Missy’s lunch, if her cookin’ don’t turn out well.”
“I don’t want any of her old pears and things; my cooking _will_ turn out well, and I’ll have a splendid dinner; see if I don’t!” cried Daisy, indignantly.
“We may like them if company should come. It is always well to have something in the store-room,” said Aunt Jo, who had been taught this valuable fact by a series of domestic panics.
“Me is hundry,” announced Teddy, who began to think what with so much cooking going on it was about time for somebody to eat something. His mother gave him her work-basket to rummage, hoping to keep him quiet till dinner was ready, and returned to her housekeeping.
“Put on your vegetables, set the table, and then have some coals kindling ready for the steak.”
What a thing it was to see the potatoes bobbing about in the little pot; to peep at the squash getting soft so fast in the tiny steamer; to whisk open the oven door every five minutes to see how the pies got on, and at last when the coals were red and glowing, to put two real steaks on a finger-long gridiron and proudly turn them with a fork. The potatoes were done first, and no wonder, for they had boiled frantically all the while. They were pounded up with a little pestle, had much butter and no salt put in (cook forgot it in the excitement of the moment), then it was made into a mound in a gay red dish, smoothed over with a knife dipped in milk, and put in the oven to brown.