peel.

"Let's have this receipt, too," begged Margaret, as Roger went to answer
the telephone.

"You can squeeze out the juice and pulp and add a quart of water to a
cup of juice, sweeten it and make grapefruit-ade instead of lemonade for
a variety. Then take the skins and cut out all the white inside part as
well as you can, leaving just the rind."

"The next step must be to snip the rind into these long, narrow
shavings."

"It is, and you put them in cold water and let them come to a boil and
boil twenty minutes. Then drain off all the water and add cold water and
do it again."

"What's the idea of two boilings?" asked James.

"I suppose it must be to take all the bitterness out of the skin at the
same time that it is getting soft."

"Does this have to stand over night?"

"Yes, this sits and meditates all night. Then you put it on to boil
again in a syrup made of one cup of water and four cups of sugar, and
boil it until the bits are all saturated with the sweetness. If you want
to eat them right off you roll them now in powdered sugar or
confectioner's sugar, but if you aren't in a hurry you put them into a
jar and keep the air out and roll them just before you want to serve
them."

"They certainly are bully good," remarked James, taking several more
pieces.

"That call was from Tom Watkins," announced Roger, returning from the
telephone, and referring to a member of the United Service Club who,
with his sister, Della, lived in New York.

"O dear, they can't come!" prophesied Ethel Blue.

"He says he has just been telephoning to the railroad and they say that
all the New Jersey trains are delayed and so Mrs. Watkins thought he'd
better not try to bring Della out. She sends her love to you, Ethel
Blue, and her best wishes for your birthday and says she's got a present
for you that is different from any plant you ever saw in a
conservatory."

"That's what Margaret's is," laughed Ethel. "Isn't it queer you two
girls should give me growing things when we were talking about gardens
this afternoon and deciding to have one this summer."

"One!" repeated Dorothy. "Don't forget mine. There'll be two."

"If Aunt Louise should find a lot and start to build there'd be
another," suggested Ethel Brown.

"O, let's go into the gardening business," cried Roger. "I've already
offered to be the laboring man at the beck and call of these young women
all for the small reward of having all the sweetpeas I want to p