should say
we do! What kind will you have?"

"Nut loaf," quickly responded Mercedes, who knew from experience how
delicious Tabitha's nut loaves were.

"Angel cake," wheedled Susie, with her most engaging smile.

"Frosted with chocolate," added Inez.

"Devil's food," suggested Irene.

"Cookies," pleaded Rosslyn, who had a boy's fondness for that
particular delicacy.

"Dingerbread," lisped the baby.

And Tabitha laughed. "That's quite a collection, my dears."

"I should say so!" gasped Gloriana. "We can't make them all to-night.
In fact, it is nearly four o'clock now. There isn't time for both pie
and cake."

"Unless we do make gingerbread, as Janie suggested," said Tabitha
slowly, seeing the look of disappointment clouding the row of round,
serious faces watching them so expectantly.

"Wiv raisins," coaxed Rosslyn. "Lots of 'em!"

Instantly the faces brightened again. "Oh, yes, that's the way we like
it best," chorused the four older members.

"And let us seed them," pleaded Inez. "Mamma often lets us."

"She won't let us eat more'n twelve," added Irene hopefully, "and we
can work real fast."

"Well, you will have to if we have gingerbread for supper," said
Gloriana. "I supposed the raisins were already seeded. Will we have
time, Tabitha?"

"Yes, if everyone hustles, I reckon. Mercy, you know where things are
in the pantry. Supposing you get out the spices, sugar, flour, and
things. Susie and the twins stone the raisins; and, Rosslyn, you might
bring in some small wood for the stove. We'll use the range to-night,
because I have baked in that oven before and know how it works, but
won't know until I experiment with it, how the gasolene oven bakes."

While she was issuing orders, Tabitha flaxed blithely about the little
kitchen, lighting the fire, hunting up cooking utensils, and beginning
the process of making chocolate pie, leaving Gloriana to wrestle with
the mysteries of a raisin gingerbread.

Anxious for the coming treat, the children obediently flew to their
various tasks; and soon voices buzzed busily, while the little hands
tried their best to hurry.

"There!" breathed Tabitha at last, lifting a red, perspiring face from
an inspection of two beautifully frosted pies in the oven, "they are
done. Don't they look fine? Now you can put in your gingerbread
whenever you are ready, Glory. I'll set these on the wash bench
outside to cool, while I hustle up the rest of the supper."