.

"Now, children," said Polly, after Phronsie had made them take a bite of
her candy all around, "let's get the cake put away safe, for mamsie may
come home early.

"Where'll you put it?" asked Joel, wishing the world was all peppermint
candy.

"Oh--in the cupboard," said Polly, taking it up; "there, Joe, you can
climb up, and put it clear back in the corner, oh! wait; I must take
the posies off, and keep them fresh in water;" so the cake was finally
deposited in a place of safety, followed by the eyes of all the
children.

"Now," said Polly, as they shut the door tight, "don't you go to looking
at the cupboard, Joey, or mammy'll guess something."

"Can't I just open it a little crack, and take one smell when she isn't
looking?" asked Joel; "I should think you might, Polly; just one."

"No," said Polly, firmly; "not one, Joe; she'll guess if you do." But
Mrs. Pepper was so utterly engrossed with her baby when she came home
and heard the account of the accident, that she wouldn't have guessed
if there'd been a dozen cakes in the cupboard. Joel was consoled, as his
mother assured him in a satisfactory way that she never should think
of blaming him; and Phronsie was comforted and coddled to her heart's
content. And so the evening passed rapidly and happily away; Ben
smuggling Phronsie off into a corner, where she told him all the doings
of the day--the disappointment of the cake, and how it was finally
crowned with flowers; all of which Phronsie, with no small pride in
being the narrator, related gravely to her absorbed listener. "And don't
you think, Bensie," she said, clasping her little hand in a convincing
way over his two bigger, stronger ones, "that Polly's stove was very
naughty to make poor Polly cry?"

"Yes, I do," said Ben, and he shut his lips tightly together.

To have Polly cry, hurt him more than he cared to have Phronsie see.

"What are you staring at, Joe?" asked Polly, a few minutes later, as her
eyes fell upon Joel, who sat with his back to the cupboard, persistently
gazing at the opposite wall.

"Why, you told me yourself not to look at the cupboard," said Joel, in
the loudest of stage whispers.

"Dear me; that'll make mammy suspect worse'n anything else if you look
like that," said Polly.

"What did you say about the cupboard?" asked Mrs. Pepper, who caught
Joe's last word.

"We can't tell," said Phronsie, shaking her head at her mother; "cause
there's a ca----" "Ugh!" and Polly clappe