perhaps
she wouldn't have thought much about it; for who would dream of little
daughters of respectable parents bringing matches to school?

It might be very funny to light a fire on one's own little hearth, and
bake one's own little biscuits for tea; but then it was certainly wrong.
If it hadn't been wrong, why didn't the little girls tell of it at home?
What made Flaxie seize a bunch of matches from the kitchen-shelf and
hide them in her pocket? What made Milly snatch that piece of dough when
Nancy's back was turned, and run away with it so fast? Children are
never sly, you know, when they are doing right.

If these biscuits turned out well, they were to bake some more
to-morrow, and have what Johnny called a "house-warming," and Freddy
had partly promised some fish. But this was only the very first day of
housekeeping, and they had invited nobody but Ada Blake to tea,--Ada and
her dolls.

It seemed as if recess would never come that afternoon, and when it came
it wasn't "any longer than your little finger." The fire was kindled the
very first minute, the thimble-biscuits rolled out, and then the three
children sat on the grass around their hearth to watch the baking. Seven
dolls sat there too, with their party-dresses on, waiting very politely.
There was a dictionary in the middle of the room for a table, with a
pocket-handkerchief spread on it for a table-cloth, and Milly had set
out all her best dishes there at noon, with a dot of butter, a pinch of
sugar, and some bits of cake.

"I guess our oven is slow; they don't bake much," said Milly, peeping at
the biscuits, which were placed in a row on a cabbage-leaf at a
respectful distance from the fire.

"Let's wish something while we're waiting," said hungry Flaxie, who had
only snatched a very hurried dinner. "I wish this world was one big
doughnut, with only us to eat it!"

"Pshaw!" sniffed Milly, "why didn't you wish something
good,--sponge-cake, with jelly between?"

"Wish yourself, Milly Allen, if you can do it so much better'n I can,"
retorted Flaxie, putting another stick on the fire.

"Well, lemme see; I wish you and I were sisters, Flaxie Frizzle, and Ada
was our aunt come from Boston."

"Well there, Milly Allen, that isn't half as nice as my doughnut! What's
the use to wish we were sisters, when we are twins now, and that's
almost as good?"

"Oh, I never!" laughed Ada. "Such a _nidea_ as _you_ being twins! You
weren't born the same day, either o