he step-ladder on the chemical properties
of soda, to which Daisy did not listen, but Demi did, and understood it,
as he proved by the brief but comprehensive reply:

"Yes, I see, soda turns sour things sweet, and the fizzling up makes
them light. Let's see you do it, Daisy."

"Fill that bowl nearly full of flour and add a little salt to it,"
continued Mrs. Jo.

"Oh dear, everything has to have salt in it, seems to me," said Sally,
who was tired of opening the pill-box in which it was kept.

"Salt is like good-humor, and nearly every thing is better for a pinch
of it, Posy," and Uncle Fritz stopped as he passed, hammer in hand, to
drive up two or three nails for Sally's little pans to hang on.

"You are not invited to tea, but I'll give you some cakes, and I won't
be cross," said Daisy, putting up her floury little face to thank him
with a kiss.

"Fritz, you must not interrupt my cooking class, or I'll come in and
moralize when you are teaching Latin. How would you like that?" said
Mrs. Jo, throwing a great chintz curtain down on his head.

"Very much, try it and see," and the amiable Father Bhaer went singing
and tapping about the house like a mammoth woodpecker.

"Put the soda into the cream, and when it 'fizzles,' as Demi says, stir
it into the flour, and beat it up as hard as ever you can. Have your
griddle hot, butter it well, and then fry away till I come back," and
Aunt Jo vanished also.

Such a clatter as the little spoon made, and such a beating as the
batter got, it quite foamed, I assure you; and when Daisy poured some
on to the griddle, it rose like magic into a puffy flapjack that made
Demi's mouth water. To be sure, the first one stuck and scorched,
because she forgot the butter, but after that first failure all went
well, and six capital little cakes were safely landed in a dish.

"I think I like maple-syrup better than sugar," said Demi, from his
arm-chair where he had settled himself after setting the table in a new
and peculiar manner.

"Then go and ask Asia for some," answered Daisy, going into the
bath-room to wash her hands.

While the nursery was empty something dreadful happened. You see, Kit
had been feeling hurt all day because he had carried meat safely and yet
got none to pay him. He was not a bad dog, but he had his little faults
like the rest of us, and could not always resist temptation. Happening
to stroll into the nursery at that moment, he smelt the cakes, saw them
unguard