CHAPTER XIII
A DOLL-AND-LITTLE-GIRL PARTY
Mother Blair had an old school friend coming out to spend the day, and she had written that she must bring her little five year old daughter with her. This wasn't a bit convenient for the Blairs, because Miss Betty was to give a luncheon for the older people, and Mildred had planned to go to town for the day; and, of course, Jack couldn't be bothered to help take care of a child. That, surely, wasn't man's work, he declared.
So Brownie saw that she must entertain the small Helen all by herself, and she sat down to think what she should do for her.
"Five years old," she said to herself. "That means dolls, I guess. I'm pretty old for dolls, but of course I could get Araminta down from the attic, only she's packed up so nicely that I hate to disturb her. I wonder if five year olds play games? Mother Blair, do you think we could play in the attic with Helen's doll and Araminta, if I get her out, or what can we do?"
"Helen has had a bad cough, dear, and I'm afraid her mother would think that she must stay where there were no draughts. Why don't you have a little bit of a party for her? We could ask four other children about her age – "
"Oh, Mother, I know! I'll have a dolls' party, and cook cunning things in tiny little dishes just big enough for dolls to eat. That would be perfectly lovely, and I know Mildred would help me make some of them the day before."
"That would really be ever so much fun," Mother Blair said. "Run and ask Norah if she has any very little tins and molds that you can use, and I'll look up some receipts for you. Brownie, that dolls' party is what I call a really bright idea."
Norah was not at all busy just then so she got a kitchen chair and hunted on the top shelf in the tin closet and found several things for Brownie. One was a little tumbler of heavy glass, half the size of a small jelly glass; it had been used in traveling one summer when the Blairs were younger. Then there were six muffin tins fastened together like a pan which were never used because they made muffins so tiny that Jack said six were only a bite. And beside these she found a little tin cutter meant to cut vegetables into shapes for soup; this one was a tube with a star on the end, or rather the outline of one. Norah said that it would make lovely little cookies, each one the size of a five cent piece. Brownie was delighted with it.
"But, Norah, we won't want muffins," she said. "I remember when I was five, I couldn't have even one for breakfast – not till I was about seven, I guess it was. And Mother says Mrs. Lane is just as partickler as can be about Helen."
"I know something you can make in 'em," nodded Norah. "Not muffins. You just wait. You make it out of rice, and rice is awful good for children."
So Brownie ran into her mother's room to tell her what they had found and plan the meal with her.
"Suppose you have a really nice luncheon for both the dolls and the girls," she said. "You can have the low sewing table and set it with small plates and little napkins and have low chairs around it; the four children could sit on two sides of the table and Helen at one end and you at the other, and the company could all hold their children in their laps and you need not have any doll at all because you are hostess. How would that do?"
"Perfectly lovely, Mother. And now what shall we have to eat?"
"How would you like a hot first course – perhaps some kind of chicken and potatoes, with jelly and little cups of cocoa!"
"Oh, yes, Mother; and tiny sandwiches!"
"Yes, indeed; and then some dessert that children like; will that be enough, do you think?"
"Well, if they are not so very hungry, I think it will be."
Mother Blair laughed. "I think it is all their mothers would want them to eat for luncheon, anyway. Now what did Norah find for you?"
Brownie told about the little muffin tins, and said Norah said they could have something made of rice in them; and there was a little star cooky cutter and a little bit of a tumbler.
Mrs. Blair said they were all exactly what would be needed.
"I rather think Norah meant to use the muffin tins for these, Brownie. See how easy they are to make, and so good, too."
RICE PATTIES
1 heaping tablespoonful of rice.
2 cups of cold water.
½ teaspoonful salt.
1 teaspoonful butter.
½ an egg.
1 large cupful of cooked chicken, cut into bits.
1 small cup of thick white sauce. (See your rule.)
Wash the rice and put it over to cook in the double boiler in the water; add the salt; when it has cooked twenty minutes without stirring, taste it and see if it is soft, and notice if the water has boiled away so it is dry; if it is done, take off the cover and stand the boiler in the oven or on the back of the stove till each grain of rice is full and there is not a drop of water left. Then mix with the egg after you have beaten it and divided it, and put a spoonful into each muffin pan after it has been buttered; press this on the sides and bottom like a thick pie crust; warm the butter and put a little on the edges of each and put them in the oven till brown. Make the white sauce, heat the chicken in it and fill the patties at the last moment; put a bit of parsley on top of each one.
"We used to have these patties often for lunch and Norah would put in creamed fish or left-over vegetables, or eggs. We have not had them for ever so long, and we must remember and have them again, they are so good. And Brownie, remind me to have chicken for dinner the night before the party, so there will be some to warm up the next day."
"Wait one minute, Mother, please. I want to ask Norah if these are what she had thought of for us."
Strangely enough they were, only she had intended to have the rice shells filled with scrambled eggs. "But the chicken's better," she said. "Trust your mother for thinkin' of it."
Brownie ran back again. "I just wanted to be sure she hadn't thought of anything nicer," she said. "And she hadn't. These are going to be perfectly lovely."
"Now for the potatoes; what kind do you think you would like?"
"I can make nice ones, chopped and fried," said Brownie proudly.
"I don't believe we had better give those small children anything fried, dear; I'm pretty sure their mothers would not like that. What would you think of the potato puff Norah makes out of left-over mashed potato?"
"Just the thing. I wouldn't have to boil the potatoes and peel them and mash them. Left-overs are always so convenient!"
"Then we must be sure to have mashed potato for dinner the night before the party, or there won't be any left over," said Mrs. Blair, laughing. "Now, write down this receipt; only remember I am making it small for you; for the family you must take two cups or more of potato, and one egg."
POTATO PUFF
1 cup of mashed potato.
¼ teaspoonful salt.
¼ cup of milk.
½ of a beaten egg.
1 teaspoonful of butter.
Mix the potato with the milk and salt and heat it, beating it well. Then stir in the butter after warming it till soft, and last the egg. Put in a small dish and bake in a hot oven till brown.
"I think it would be nice to bake this in one of the small brown earthenware dishes, Brownie; they always look well on the table, and a tin or agate pan wouldn't do at all; you know you must serve it right in the pan you bake it in."
"Isn't it funny, you have one-half an egg in the potato and one-half in the rice patties, Mother. Do you do that on purpose?"
"No, it just happened to be so, but it's an economical thing, Brownie, because eggs are so high now-a-days that one has to remember to use them carefully. The sandwiches come next. What kind do you think would be best?"
"Not cheese, Mother; dolls and children don't eat cheese; I know that! And not nut; nor ham; nor hard-boiled egg. I can't think of any kind that would do."
"White bread and brown bread put together, just with plain butter, you know; I think those would be lovely for children."
"So they would; I can make those. And we can cut them out in little, little circles."
"I think you could use an egg cup and press it down hard; that would make little circles."
"Just the thing. Now comes the cocoa, and I can make that all alone; may we use the little after dinner coffee cups to drink it out of? We'll be very careful."
"Well, if you'll be very careful indeed," Mother Blair said, hesitating.
"Oh, yes, we'll be just awfully careful. And what about jelly?"
"You can have a glass of jelly out of the closet made over for you in this way:"
MADE-OVER JELLY
A glass of currant jelly warmed in a saucepan till it melts.
1 teaspoonful of granulated gelatine.
½ cup of cold water.
2 tablespoonfuls of boiling water.
Put the gelatine into the cold water, stir it well and let it stand for ten minutes; then stir again and add the boiling water and the hot jelly; stir till it is smooth and strain through a coarse bag into two or more small glasses. Put on ice till firm.
"While the jelly is melting you get the rest of the things ready and then it takes only a moment to put them all together. Norah always has a bag because she washes out and puts away those that the table salt comes in. When you have used it don't forget to wash it out for her, will you, dear?"
"No, Mother. Mildred and I never forget to wash up and put things away ever since she said we couldn't come into the kitchen at all unless we always did that. Do you remember how cross she was?"
"I don't wonder, Brownie. Some day when you have a kitchen of your own you will be cross, too, if little girls come in and use your pots and pans and leave them all sticky and messy."
"Of course I will. It makes me feel real cross now just to think of it. I guess we'd better plan the dessert before I get worse."
"Perhaps we had," laughed Mother Blair. "Those children must have something very simple, indeed, and I really can't think of anything better for them than cornstarch pudding."
"Well," said Brownie doubtfully, "that certainly won't hurt them."
"I know you don't like it very well, and grown people don't care for it either, but it is good for children, and if you learn to make it for them you can easily change the rule a little bit and make it in half a dozen different ways which grown-ups do like. I'll give you two or three rules for your book and you can try them all. Here is the first, for your party:"
PLAIN CORNSTARCH PUDDING
2/3 cup of scalded milk; put in the double boiler.
1½ tablespoonfuls of cornstarch.
½ tablespoonful of sugar.
1 pinch of salt.
2 tablespoonfuls of cold milk.
1 egg.
¼ teaspoonful vanilla.
While the milk is heating till it scalds (that is, till the top wrinkles, but it does not quite boil), mix the cornstarch, sugar and salt in the cold milk and then pour slowly into the scalded milk, stirring well all the time till it grows thick; put on the cover and let it cook eight minutes. Beat the egg without separating it and stir this in and cook one minute; take it off the stove, add the vanilla, pour it into a mold and let it get firm; serve with cream.
"You see that isn't bad at all; but to make it ever so much better try this:"
CHOCOLATE CORNSTARCH PUDDING
Melt a square of unsweetened chocolate by putting it into a saucer over the steam of the tea-kettle; stir this in just before adding the egg. Pour into a pretty mold on ice; turn it out and heap whipped cream around it.
ALMOND CORNSTARCH PUDDING
Use almond flavoring instead of vanilla, and when you take the pudding off the fire, stir in a cup of chopped almonds. Serve with whipped cream.
"That last one sounds, oh, so good, Mother. Can't I make that for Sunday dinner?"
"Yes, indeed you can, and Father will love it, I know. Now, Brownie, let me tell you just one thing more about the dessert for the party; put the pudding into egg cups, and fill them just half full; then you see when you turn them out they will be lovely little molds, one for each child; and you can have the cream in the small silver pitcher to pass with them."
"What a nice party it will be," sighed Brownie. "I'm so glad Helen is only five, because if she were older we couldn't have these cunning, cunning things."
The party really was lovely. The little table had six low seats around it, a hem-stitched lunch cloth over it and a small vase of flowers in the center. The little girls, each with her best doll in her lap, sat around it, too impressed to talk. First they had rice patties filled with hot creamed chicken on little plates, and spoonfuls of brown potato puff; with these the little round sandwiches were passed, brown on one side and white on the other, and tiny cups of cocoa, and helpings from the little glass of jelly which Brownie had turned out in a pretty red mold on a little bit of a glass dish. After they had eaten all they possibly could of these things Norah came in with some more small plates and each one had a little mold of delicious cold pudding, with cream to put on it and two small star-shaped cookies to eat with it. Oh, it was all so good! And the best thing about it was that Brownie really made every single thing they had all by herself, except the cookies. Mildred had made those the day before for her. "I'm so sorry I'm too big to come to the party," she said, "but at least I can make doll-cookies."
"'Doll and little-girl cookies,' you mean," corrected Brownie.
CHAPTER XIV
WHEN NORAH WAS AWAY
One day a messenger boy went around to the kitchen door with a telegram for Norah, telling her that her sister had broken her arm and she must come at once and take care of the children; as there were nine of them, including a tiny baby, Norah felt she must take the very first train, and so in only an hour she was off, and the Blairs' kitchen was empty.
"However, it isn't as though we didn't know how to cook," said Brownie, when she came home from school and found out what had happened. "Every single one of us can cook – even Jack."
"Even Jack," called her brother from the dining-room. "I heard that, Brownie Blair, and I'll tell you this: I can cook just as well as any one in this family, if I do say it."
"Prove it, then," laughed his mother, "I got the lunch alone to-day because you were all away; but suppose, instead of having regular dinners while Norah is gone, we have hot suppers, and you three get them without me. Do you think you could manage it? And I will get lunch and breakfast."
"Oh, no, Mother Blair. We will all get breakfast together, and wash the dishes and make the beds before we go to school; we can get up earlier. And every single day we will get supper all alone and you can go out calling or walking or whatever you like."
"Perhaps you'll let me help once in a while," suggested their mother meekly.
"Not once. Of course if you want to make one thing for supper to surprise us some time and have plenty of time to do it while you are getting lunch, we might let you do that. A cake, I mean, or gingerbread, just to help out at night; none of us can make many kinds of cake."
"Well, I think most girls know how to make too many kinds of cake and very few kinds of more sensible things, soups and vegetables and so on; and of the two I believe the regular every-day dishes are the more important. You see, you can learn to make cake at any time."
"I think this is a rattling good time for Mildred to learn," declared Jack. "Chocolate layer cake and cocoanut cake and fruit cake are great, and she'll never learn younger, Mother."
"Well, she may make a great big cake for you on Saturday for Sunday night supper, if she wants to; but if she does, I shall expect you to do your share of the cooking every day."
"Emergency cooking is all right; men ought to know how to do that," Jack replied stoutly. "I'm perfectly willing to cook bacon for breakfast, or scramble eggs, or cook fish for supper, or make a stew; anything I cooked in camp I can do with one hand tied behind my back!"
"This is your chance then, to show what you learned last summer. Perhaps if you do splendidly well Father Blair will want to take you again," said his mother. "Now hurry back to school and I will do these dishes and plan the supper and get it all ready for you – on paper, – and then if you want me to, I'll disappear and you may cook it all alone."
"Of course, Mother Blair. Don't you pay any attention to us at all; just come in with Father at half past six and it will be all ready," Mildred said as she hurried away.
That afternoon when the kitchen was all tidy Mother Blair sat down with a pencil and a sheet of paper and wrote out all about the supper. This is what she planned to have, and after each dish she wrote the name of the one who was to make it:
Cream dried beef (Mildred)
Corn bread (Jack)
Cocoa (Brownie)
Fresh apple-sauce (Mildred)
Cake (see cake box)
When the three younger Blairs came home and supper time approached, they found this pinned up in the kitchen, and with it the only receipts they needed:
CREAMED DRIED BEEF
1 box of shaved dried beef (or ¼ of a pound if you buy it at the butcher's).
1 tablespoonful butter.
1 tablespoonful flour.
1 cup of hot milk.
2 shakes of pepper.
Cut the beef up into tiny bits; pour boiling water over it and let it stand one minute; pour it off and squeeze the meat dry.
Put the butter in the frying-pan and let it melt; when it bubbles, add the flour and stir till smooth; add the hot milk and pepper, and last the meat; stir till it thickens like cream; serve on squares of hot buttered toast.
"Easy!" said Mildred as she read the receipt over. "Same old white sauce; it's funny how that is used over and over. I think I'll let that wait till just before supper time to make, and get the apple-sauce going. That sounds easy, too."
APPLE SAUCE
6 large, tart apples.
1 cup of sugar.
½ cup water.
¼ teaspoonful cinnamon.
Wipe the apples, cut in quarters, peel and core them. Cut up small and put in a saucepan with the water; cook gently till they are soft, and then add the sugar. When they are transparent and rather smooth they are done; take them up, and either serve as they are, or if you wish, put them through the colander. Sprinkle with cinnamon.
While Mildred was making this, Brownie laid the table, just as she had learned weeks before; then she got out her receipt-book and made the cocoa by that, while Jack made the corn bread by his own camp rule, reciting it aloud as he mixed the different things and shook down the fire and saw that his oven was hot.
"You learn a lot of things camping, Mildred," he said when he finished and cleared up his mixing bowl and other things and wiped off the table. "I never had any idea how careful you had to be to keep things ship shape till I lived with Father up in the woods. He made me clean up after every single thing I made, and wouldn't let me leave a thing around. I thought it was just sort of fussing at first, but after a while I found out it saved time. There weren't half as many dishes to do after a meal, if you cleaned up as you went along, and when you were in an awful hurry to fish or something it helped a lot."
"I know; Mother always tells Brownie and me to do that way. One day we were cooking and I wanted the egg beater; Brownie had used it and left it in the dish pan to soak, so I had to stop and wash it. Then after I used it I put it back in the pan, and Norah needed it and she had to wash it; and that was the way it went all the time till we learned that we must wash up every pot and pan and dish and spoon just the very minute we were through with them. It seems a lot of bother at first but you don't mind after a little. And then, Jack, while we have to wash the dishes at night it will save time to do them as we go along now."
When the toast was made and buttered, Mildred kept it hot while she quickly creamed the dried beef. The cocoa was all ready and so was the brown corn bread, and exactly at half past six o'clock supper was all ready to go right on the table, and everything was as nice as possible. "But then," said Father Blair complacently, "what else can you expect? This corn bread, Jack, tastes to me like that of the good old times."
"And this beef, Mildred, is exactly right, and so is the cocoa."
And so were the apple-sauce and cake, when they came on the table. The cake, especially, seemed particularly good, though it was only the same kind Mildred had often made herself, – the one in her own cook book under the title "Christmas Cake."
"I do think nice cake is just as good as can be," said Mildred, taking a second piece. "I believe I'll learn to make several kinds right away while Norah is gone."
"That's the kind of talk I like to hear," said Jack appreciatively.
In the morning Jack made the fire and started the cereal in plenty of time, while the rest finished dressing. This was the very simple rule he used:
OATMEAL
1 cup of meal.
1 quart of boiling water.
1 teaspoonful salt.
When the water boils hard, add the salt and stir in the meal quickly; put it all into the double boiler and let it cook at least half an hour; take off the cover and let it stand till it gets a little dry (about five minutes). Serve with cream, and, if you like, sliced bananas and a little sugar.
Mother Blair and Mildred laid the table, Brownie got the fruit out of the refrigerator and arranged it and put on the finger-bowls, and then they went into the kitchen to see what should be done next.
"I'm going to cook bacon," announced Jack; "I've got it all ready; you might make the toast, Mildred, and Mother can make the coffee and we'll be all ready in one jiffy."
After breakfast they washed the dishes; or rather Jack washed them and Brownie wiped them, and they laid the lunch table after taking the crumbs up off the floor and table; meanwhile Mother Blair and Mildred made the beds and put the house in order, and when it was time for school everything was done.
"That's easy enough," Jack said as they left. "Rather fun, I think, too. I don't care if Norah stays away quite a while."
For supper that night they found their mother had planned this:
Spanish tomatoes (Mildred)
Stuffed baked potatoes (Brownie)
Biscuits (anybody)
Pancakes and maple syrup (Jack)
"Spanish tomatoes sounds good," said Mildred, reading her easy rule.
SPANISH TOMATOES
6 tomatoes, peeled and chopped, or 1 can.
3 chopped green peppers (first cut each in two and take out the seeds).
½ an onion (chop with the peppers).
¼ teaspoonful salt.
3 shakes pepper.
1 large teaspoonful chopped parsley.
Mix all together and cook about twenty minutes, slowly, or till they look like a thick paste. Pour over buttered toast.
Mother Blair had put a can of tomatoes on the kitchen table and the peppers with it, so it took only a few moments to get this first dish ready; then while it stood waiting to go over the fire and cook, Mildred made the biscuits and popped them into the oven. Brownie washed and baked the potatoes and when they were done she stuffed them beautifully and just browned them at the last moment, and Mildred made the toast to go under the tomatoes.
Everything was delicious, and while Jack made the cakes and brought them in, one plateful after another, all hot and steaming, the family said what fun it all was.
"Isn't it queer that some girls just hate to cook, and think it's simply dreadful when they have no maid and have to do their own work?" said Mildred. "When I'm grown up – I'm going to have a house – no, a flat, I guess, that's cunninger, – and do every single bit of my own work."
"Do," said Brownie enthusiastically; "and I'll come and stay with you and help you."
"So will I," laughed their father.
"And so will I," said Mother Blair. "But you'll have to hurry up and learn lots more, Mildred; there are just hundreds of things you can learn to cook, and all of them are ever so good."
"I'm going to learn every single one," said Mildred solemnly.
As the week went by, the children found they were really learning ever so many of the "hundreds" of good things their mother spoke of. Among them were these, the rules for which they put right in their books with the rest:
EGGS IN RAMEKINS
4 eggs.
4 rounds of buttered toast.
Sprinkle of salt and pepper.
Butter any small dishes; put in the toast rounds, break an egg carefully on each, sprinkle with salt and pepper and bake in the oven till the eggs are done.
EASY MEAT PIE
1 cup chopped cooked meat
1 cup boiling water.
1 teaspoonful chopped parsley.
1 teaspoonful chopped onion.
½ teaspoonful salt.
1 teaspoonful butter.
2 cups mashed potato.
(If the potato is left-over, and so is cold, add ½ a cup of hot milk to it and beat it up till it is smooth and hot.)
Mix the meat, water, and seasoning all together in a saucepan and let it cook till it gets rather dry, stirring it often. Butter a baking dish and cover the sides and bottom with the potato, half an inch thick. Put the meat in the center, and then put the rest of the potato over the top and make it nice and smooth. Put bits of butter all over the top and brown in the oven.
CREAMED SALMON
1 can of salmon (medium size).
1 large cup of white sauce, well seasoned with salt and pepper.
Open the can, drain the fish of oil and take out the skin and bones; mix lightly, lay on squares of buttered toast; put slices of lemon and bits of parsley all around the edge of the platter. (You can use any sort of cooked fish instead of salmon.)
HOT SARDINES
1 box large sardines.
4 slices of toast
Juice of ½ a lemon.
Sprinkles of salt, pepper and dry mustard.
Open the sardines and lift them out carefully; drain the oil off. Put them on a tin plate in the oven to get very hot while you make toast and cut it into strips; cut the crust off and butter them a little. When the sardines are hot put one on each strip of toast, sprinkle with lemon juice, salt, pepper and mustard (only a tiny bit of mustard), and serve at once on a hot dish with parsley all around.
Besides these good things the children made all sorts of potatoes and muffins and everything else they had learned, and they really had a beautiful time. But the most fun of all was on Saturday when they had the cooking to do for two days and plenty of time in which to do it.