owing
afternoon for supper. For you cannot hurry mug-bread.

The next morning, by breakfast-time, a peep into the mug would show
whether the little "eyes" had begun to open in the mixture or not. Here
was where housewifely skill came in. Those eyes must be opened just so
wide, and there must be just so many of them, or else it was not safe to
proceed. It might be better to throw the setting away and start new, or
else to let it stand till noon. Gram knew as soon as she had looked at
it. If the omens were favorable, a cup of warm water and a variable
quantity of carefully warmed flour were added, and a batter made of
about the consistency for fritters. This was set up behind the funnel
again, to rise till noon.

More flour was then added and the dough carefully worked and set for a
third rising. About three o'clock it was put in tins and baked in an
even oven.

The favorite loaves with us were "cart-wheels," formed by putting the
dough in large, round, shallow tin plates, about a foot in diameter.
When baked, the yellow-brown, crackery loaf was only an inch thick. The
rule at Gram's table was a "cart-wheel" to a boy, with all the fresh
Jersey butter and canned berries or fruit that he wanted with it.

Sometimes, however, the mug would disappear rather suddenly in the
morning, and an odor as of sulphureted hydrogen would linger about, till
the kitchen windows were raised and the fresh west wind admitted.

That meant that a failure had occurred; the wrong microbe had obtained
possession of the mug. In such cases Gram acted promptly and said
little. She was always reticent concerning mug-bread. It had unspeakable
contingencies.

Ellen and Theodora shared the old lady's reticence. Ellen, in fact,
could never be persuaded to eat it, good as it was.

"I know too much about it," she would say. "It isn't nice."

Beyond doubt, when "mug-bread" goes astray at about the second rising,
the consequences are depressing.

If its little eyes fail to open and the batter takes on a greasy aspect,
with a tendency to crawl and glide about, no time should be lost. Open
all the windows at once and send the batter promptly to the
swill-barrel. It is useless to dally with it. You will be sorry if you
do. When it goes wrong, it is utterly depraved.

I remember an experience which Theodora and Ellen had with mug-bread on
one occasion, when Gram was away from home. Aunt Nabbie and Uncle Pascal
Mowbray came on from Philadelphia while sh