The Mary Frances Cook Book Part 1

The Mary Frances Cook Book.

by Jane Earye Fryer.

DEAR GIRLS:

This book tells the story of Mary Frances, a little girl whose great ambition was to help her mother. So anxious was she to do this that even the humble Kitchen People became her teachers and instructors. They talked to her, a thing never heard of before; helped her over the hard places, and explained mysterious secrets she could never otherwise have understood. They wove around a simple little book of recipes her mother had made for her the spell of Fairyland; they led her through a series of delightful adventures such as never happened to any girl before, in which she lived for three whole happy weeks, and out of which she emerged no longer a little girl, but a real little woman.

Some very wise people would call this a story book, some a manual training book, and others a cookery book, but Mary Frances knows better; she knows that it is a Book within a Book that introduced her to Aunty Rolling Pin and a lot of other dear, dear friends, such as no little girl ever had before, and whom she now wishes to introduce for the first time to all other little girls. (I know that she gained their consent to do this because she told me so.)

In the hope that Mary Frances' wish may be realized, this record of her adventures is sent out to the girls of America with the best wishes of

THE AUTHOR.

CHAPTER I

THE KITCHEN PEOPLE

ALL the Kitchen People were terribly excited.

"I see my finish!" puffed Tea Kettle from his perch on the stove.

"That's slang!" snapped Sauce Pan, who sat near by.

"Slang or no slang," said Tea Kettle, "I'll melt if somebody doesn't come fill me soon."

"Where's the cook? Where's the mistress?" asked Boiler Pan.

"Why, the cook's left--left this morning and the mistress's sick. What's that I smell burning?"

"That's the potatoes in the oven," said Toaster.

"Oh, my lid!" cried Tea Kettle holding his nose. "Pour on water! Quick!"

"Whew!" exclaimed Coffee Pot.

"Whew!" cried Pie Plate.

"Whew!" clanged Big Iron Pot.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Oh, my lid!"]

"Whew!" mimicked Sauce Pan. "Whew!--That won't help! If you say Whew!

to an oven door, will it open?--Somebody open the door!"

"Good idea, Saucy!" exclaimed Tea Kettle. "You might try it yourself!"

"Owoooh! O-w-o-o-o-h!" strained little Sauce Pan at the heavy door.

"O-w-o-o-o-h! I can't-t budge it! Cauch! Cawc! Ochee!" he coughed. "What smoke! Somebody else come try!"

"Get out of the way, then," said Big Iron Pot, making heavily toward the stove.

"Knew your arms were too short," laughed Tea Kettle, seeing Iron Pot couldn't reach the k.n.o.b.

"Well, they're as long as yours," said Iron Pot angrily.

"Kick it open!" sug-gest-ed Sauce Pan. "Everybody allowed one kick!"

"First go!" exclaimed Iron Pot.

Whack! came a m.u.f.fled sound. Then, "Oh, my poor feet! Oh! Oh!"

"What's the matter?" asked Sauce Pan.

"Nothing," said Big Iron Pot, hopping around on one little leg, and holding the other with his hands. "Only I wish you'd had 'First go!'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I wish you'd had 'First go!'"]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Well," declared Tea Kettle, "unless help comes soon, we may as well give up all hope of rescue. This is dreadful!"

"Listen, then," ticked Mantel Clock, who didn't mind the smoke. "I know a secret: the dear little girl----"

"Oh, yes, we know!" cried the Kitchen People.

"Well!" asked Mantel Clock, "what do you know?"

"The little girl--that there is a little girl----"

"Is that all you know?" demanded Mantel Clock. "Now, when people interrupt----"

"Just dying to tell," said Sauce Pan in a loud whisper.

"Please, please, tell us the secret," begged the Kitchen People.

"Well," Mantel Clock ran on, "the dear little girl that lives in our house is going to learn to cook. What d'you say if we all turn in and help her?"

"Goody-goody!" Aunty Rolling Pin laughed so she nearly rolled off the table.

Just then the kitchen door-k.n.o.b turned, and every one of the Kitchen People was as quiet as a

[Ill.u.s.tration]