, too. Shall I go and ask?"

Yes, Horace and Dotty were both pleased with the idea.

"She's a foreigner," said Prudy, doubtfully; "but she talks our language
beautifully. She's a dear friend of auntie's, too."

"What I object to," said Horace, "is taking Toddlekins; but I may
possibly hire her to stay at home."

It was finally decided that Mrs. Pragoff should call next day and take
the children to church with her, and thence home to a Christmas dinner.
She laughed, as she rolled away in her carriage, thinking what droll
figures they were, and how Prudy blinked through her glasses.

"So I shan't have to cook but one meal more, and that will be
breakfast," thought Mother Hubbard, her tired heart leaping up with
something like joy.

They sat down to dinner at last.

"Tea urn been standing on the table all this while?" asked Dr.
Moonshine, resuming his critical manners; "'twould take the tea some
time to freeze on here, Mrs. Hubbard, if that is what you're trying to
do with it!"

Mrs. Hubbard pretended not to hear.

"She's blind of her ears, papa; you have to speak loud."

"What makes your child's face so red, doctor?" asked the landlady,
pouring hot water till it overran the cup; "don't the darling feel
well?"

"Yes'm, pitty well; only but the white tea gets in my cheeks and makes
'em too hot."

"White tea, I should think," remarked Dr. Moonshine; "why, Mother
Hubbard, the tea-leaf in your urn must feel rather lonesome."

Mother Hubbard took off the cover and peeped in.

"None there, as true as you live! I'll jump right up, doctor, and stew
two or three handfuls."

"Don't rise for me, ma'am; don't rise for me. We'll swallow the will for
the deed, ma'am; the will for the deed."

"It's always so, doctor," said Lady Magnifico, in an undertone; "we've
had to swallow these mistakes from time _immortal_."

Her ladyship meant "immemorial." She was surprised at the ease with
which she used large words.

"All the mistakes are owing to the eccentricity of genius," said the
doctor, bowing to Mother Hubbard. "Our landlady is what is called
'absent.' Here's a health to our _absent_ friend."

"You'll have to excuse the biscuit," said Mother Hubbard, nervously. "I
mixed 'em too tight, and I think the flour's half corn, they look so
yellow; it _can't_ be all soda."

"I presume not _all_ soda; some mixture of flour and water. But where
are they, ma'am?"

"O, I put them in the cupboard. I thought you'd like crack