uld judge you to
be about eight years old."

"'Tis the griddle-cake doth make children of us all," parodied Graham
recklessly, not at all abashed by his friend's criticism. "Come on,
Jack. I'm going to set the table, and I shall need your housewifely
aid."

When the girls came flocking down, the table was set, although not
altogether in the conventional fashion, and from the kitchen issued the
odor of frying pan-cakes, agreeable or otherwise, according to one's
mood. Graham sniffed it as ecstatically as if it had been the fragrance
of a rose-garden. Ruth hastily found her way to the open door, and tried
to think of something beside food.

"Ruth!" It was Peggy's voice sounding from the kitchen. Ruth looked
resolutely ahead, and did not move. There was Amy and Priscilla and
Claire to choose from. If she didn't answer, Peggy would of course
summon another assistant.

"Ruth!"

"Don't you hear Peggy calling you, Ruth?" Graham asked peremptorily. And
again Ruth's mood was resentful. How unkind and unfeeling everybody
seemed. The tears started to her eyes as she crossed the room. In the
kitchen Peggy was turning cakes on the smoking griddle, her cheeks
glowing from her exertion over the blazing fire.

"Here, Ruth. Watch these cakes, will you, while I see to the hash? I
wonder if those boys have got enough dishes on the table to eat out of.
And push back the coffee pot please. The coffee's done, anyway."

"Is breakfast nearly ready?" Graham put his head through the door. "I
told you I was starving you remember, three-quarters of an hour back.
Now the pangs of hunger are less cruel, but I'm gradually growing
weaker."

"You're a pathetic figure for a famine sufferer," scoffed Peggy. "Oh,
Ruth, that cake is burning."

"Upon my word, Ruth," exclaimed Graham, with mock severity, "that's
inexcusable. Burning up a perfectly good pan-cake when your brother is
suffering from hunger." It was of course, in keeping with the nonsense
he had been talking all the morning, but to poor Ruth it seemed as if he
were really finding fault.

"I'm doing the best I can," she replied rather sharply, and Peggy
noticed the suppressed irritation of her tone and wondered. Then, as
Graham advanced into the kitchen with the intention of helping to carry
in the breakfast, Ruth backed into a corner and screamed.

"What on earth is the matter now?" Graham knew the answer to his
question, even before he asked it, and was irritated. If it was amusi