ll a little scalloped tin with some of the cake
mixture.

"N-no," said the child, eying it suspiciously; "that isn't like a
'gingerbread boy,' Polly; he'll like that best."

"Mamsie," said Polly, "we can't let her make a dreadful, horrid
'gingerbread boy' to send Mr. King! he never'll let Jasper come here
again."

"Oh, let her," cried Joel; "she can bake it, and Dave an' I'll eat it,"
and he picked up a raisin that had fallen under the table and began
crunching it with great gusto.

"That wouldn't be fair," said Polly, gloomily. "Do get her off from it,
mammy."

"Phronsie," said Mrs. Pepper, going up back of the child, who sat
patiently in her high chair waiting for Polly to let her begin, "hadn't
you rather wait and give your 'gingerbread boy' to Jasper for his
father, when he comes?"

"Oh, no, no," cried Phronsie, twisting in her chair in great
apprehension, "I want to send it now, I do."

"Well, Polly," said her mother, laughing, "after all it's best, I think,
to let her; it can't do any harm anyway--and instead of Mr. King's
not letting Jasper come, if he's a sensible man that won't make any
difference; and if he isn't, why, then there'd be sure to something come
up sometime to make trouble."

"Well," said Polly, "I suppose she's got to; and perhaps," as a
consoling idea struck her, "perhaps she'll want to eat it up herself
when it's done. Here, Phronsie," giving her a handful of the cake
mixture, which she stiffened with flour to the right thickness, "there,
you can call that a 'gingerbread boy;' see, won't it make a beautiful
one!"

"You needn't think," said Mrs. Pepper, seeing Phronsie's delighted face,
and laughing as she went back to her work, "but what that gingerbread
boy'll go?"

When the little cakes were done, eight of them, and set upon the table
for exhibition, they one and all protested that they never saw so fine a
lot. Polly was delighted with the praise they received, and her mother's
commendation that she was "growing a better cook every day." "How glad
Jasper'll be, won't he, mamsie?" said she.

The children walked around and around the table, admiring and pointing
out the chief points of attraction, as they appeared before their
discriminating eyes.

"I should choose that one," said Joel, pointing at one which was
particularly plummy, with a raisin standing up on one end with a festive
air, as if to say, "there's lots of us inside, you better believe!"

"I wouldn't," said Davie,