d some of her vexation by kicking the unlucky animal
aside from the pot, whose hot contents she was merely sniffing. Suppawn
and milk was the customary supper at the Mansion, and as its mistress
liked to have the pudding cooked for a long time and also continually
stirred during that operation, Alfaretta had become expert in the matter
of managing. The pot was duly put on at the hour appointed, and the
Indian meal carefully sifted into the salt, boiling water. When the
mixture appeared fairly smooth and Alfy's arm was tired the pot was set
upon the hearth and the young cook went to sleep. When the sleep was of
sufficient length to cool the porridge Ma'am Puss extracted her own
supper in advance of the family's, and nobody was the wiser. But to-day,
Alfaretta had forgotten to remove the pot from the stove while she did
her "noon dishes" and taken her intermediate nap, with the result that
the suppawn was burned and even the cat wouldn't touch it. And although
she had whisked it off the fire as soon as Monty had disappeared, her
trained nose told her that this was a supper spoiled for everybody. She
was very sorry for Madam, who would try to eat it, and always bore more
patiently with her young handmaid than that person wholly deserved, but
there was a silver lining to that cloud! Montgomery would never touch
suppawn if it were scorched: therefore, she need carry him none of it.

[Illustration: "MA'AM PUSS EXTRACTED HER OWN SUPPER IN ADVANCE OF THE
FAMILY'S"]

"Couldn't have got any milk up there, anyway, without spillin' it, Ma'am
Puss, an' you know it. Goody! Course he'll come down. He'll have to if
he gets starvin' hungry. No harm done--much. I wonder what he's been up
to now! Well, I can't help it. I didn't get him into no scrapes. An'
I'll work real hard the rest the afternoon, hemmin' that petticoat
Madam's give me to make over for myself. It'll be a real good petticoat
if I ever get it done, though it's about forty rods around the bottom, I
believe."

Full of good intentions, Alfaretta carefully set the burned pudding back
on the stove, wherein the wood fire had nearly gone out, and sat down to
her task of needlework. In reality, she was a very tired little girl.
Madam was daintily neat and vigorous for a woman of her years. Never
very robust, she still exercised what strength she had in a ceaseless
round of sweeping and dusting. All the empty old rooms were as orderly
as when there had been many servants to atte