"You're standing on your tiptoes," cried little David, getting
down on the floor by Joel to investigate. "Isn't he, Polly? Come
and see."

"I'm not either," cried Joel, flatly; "hear my heels." And he
slapped them down on the floor smartly. "Children, don't
quarrel," said Polly, finding her voice, "and come to supper. I
don't b'lieve you know what we've got."

"What?" asked Joel, indifferently, feeling quite sure of the dry
bread and possible molasses.

"Come and see," called Polly, trying to speak gayly.

"I see," piped David, craning his neck. Since he couldn't be as
tall as Joel, it was well to turn his attention to other matters.
"_Cake!_"

"Yes," said Phronsie, poking her head up again to shake it very
gravely, "it's cake. And please may I have some, Mammy?" holding
out her hand.

"So you shall," said her mother; "dear knows, I can't expect you
to wait any longer for it. Polly, give her a good piece."

When Joel saw Polly handing out cake with white frosting on top,
his black eyes stuck out, and he rushed without delay for his
seat, teasing for a piece at once. But on Polly's assuring him
that the bread must be eaten first, he began at once on the