d 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 scrap-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 butter in or not.

"Madam Hubbard, mim," said Lady Magnifico, "may I trouble you for a
glass 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, God, 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.