bowl.

This made Toinette laugh, which shook her spoon, and a drop of the hot
mixture fell right on the tip of Marie's nose as she sat with upturned
face waiting her turn for a second helping. Marie gave a little scream.

"What is it?" said the mother.

"Hot water! Right in my face!" sputtered Marie.

"Water!" cried Marc. "It's porridge."

"You spattered with your spoon. Eat more carefully, my child," said the
mother, and Toinette laughed again as she heard her. After all, there
was some fun in being invisible.

The morning went by. Constantly the mother went to the door, and,
shading her eyes with her hand, looked out, in hopes of seeing a little
figure come down the wood-path, for she thought perhaps the child went
to the spring after water, and fell asleep there. The children played
happily, meanwhile. They were used to doing without Toinette and did
not seem to miss her, except that now and then baby Jeanneton said:
"Poor Toinette gone--not here--all gone."

"Well, what if she has?" said Marc at last looking up from the wooden
cup he was carving for Marie's doll. "We can play all the better."

Marc was a bold, outspoken boy, who always told his whole mind about
things.