Prudy Keeping House Part 6

"I don't know, and don't care," fumed the doctor. "Baked in a _slow_ oven, most likely, with a top crust. Let the chocolate slide."

"Well, I will. And now I'll make the omelette. Eggs? yes; there are eggs enough; but dear me, where's the milk? This _condemned_ kind my lady tells about won't do to make omelettes. I shouldn't dare try it."

"Well, well, give us a little bread and b.u.t.ter. I've got past being particular."

"O, Dr. Moonshine, such biscuits as I'm going to bake for you at five o'clock! But now I really can't find a speck of bread!"

"I'll warrant it! I always heard that when old Mother Hubbard went to her cupboard she found the shelves were all bare."

"Then you needn't have come here to board. Won't crackers and raisins do?"

They had to do; and the boarders tried to be satisfied in view of the coming dinner.

All the afternoon Mother Hubbard spent between the cake-board and the mouth of the oven.

"Queen of the rolling-pin, can't you hush up this fire?" said Dr.

Moonshine, looking at the thermometer; "we're nearly up to 'b.u.t.ter melts,' and I suppose you know that's ninety degrees."

"Dr. Moonshine," replied Mother Hubbard, nervously, "I can't help it if the b.u.t.ter does melt. We've got to have something to eat."

"Papa, pin up my dress," said the baby. "I want to do sumpin. I want some pastry to paste a book with."

"You're a real failure, Toddlekins. Your teeth have come, and you talk and keep talking. I'm afraid Mother Hubbard will charge me full price for your board. You hear what she calls for, ma'am? Can you make her a little paste? Here's an old Patent Office Report; and I'll run the risk of her spoiling it. I'll cut some pictures for her out of these papers."

"Lucky I don't keep a file of my newspapers," thought Mrs. Fixfax, listening from the next room. "If I did, those children would hear from me."

"Yes, I'll make her some paste," said Mother Hubbard, dropping the aerating egg-beater, and setting the spice-box on the stove.

Dr. Moonshine laughed. Mother Hubbard had never dreamed a boarder could be so disagreeable. She s.n.a.t.c.hed off the spice-box, and setting a kettle on the stove, boiled paste enough to paper the walls of a room.

Meanwhile Fly was making free with the nutmegs and soda, and the little cook could not remember how far along she had got with the cake.

"Children don't annoy you, I hope," said the doctor, seating the baby at the side of the table, opposite Mother Hubbard, and giving her a stick with a rag wound around the end of it, in order to paste pictures into a sc.r.a.p-book.

"Thank you, doctor. I never did like children half as well as dogs,"

replied Mother Hubbard, forcing a smile. Then she tasted her cake slyly, to make sure whether she had put the b.u.t.ter in or not.

"Madam Hubbard, mim," said Lady Magnifico, "may I trouble you for a gla.s.s of water?"

"Mamma Hubbard, may I have a hangfiss to wipe off the pastry?"

Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard, and got a goblet for the lady; to the closet, and found a rag for the baby.

By that time she smelt something burning; it was eggs. She had left the patent egg-beater on the stove by accident, and its contents were as black as a shoe.

"O, what a frightful, alarming odor!" cried Lady Magnifico. "If somebody doesn't throw up a window! Madam, do tell us what's afire now!"

"Mother Hubbard's got a dumb chill," said the doctor; "she won't speak."

But Prudy was saying under breath, "Please, G.o.d, let me keep pleasant.

They don't mean any harm, and I _should_ be ashamed to get angry just about a play."

"What ails you, Mother Hubbard? 'You look as blue as the skimmiest kind of skim-milk.'"

"Do I? Well, no wonder, with such troublesome boarders. Suppose you and my lady go down to the parlor. I don't believe I'm a bit interesting, you know. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

"Agreed! Sharp five, remember."

"There," said Mother Hubbard, taking off her spectacles; "now I can cook."

Could she?

"Little folks we is to keep house--isn't we?" buzzed the little torment that was left behind. "Hush! don't you talk, Prudy. When you shake the table, then I make blots with my pastry."

Prudy said nothing, but thoughtfully tasted the cake again. How could she tell whether she had left out the soda?

"Are you _blind of your ears_, Prudy, Can't you hear nuffin what I say?

Rag's come off the stick. Please to tie it on. And _I_ want to eat some o' that dough."

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.

CHAPTER V.

MOTHER HUBBARD'S 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.