re," warned Allee, following in her sister's
steps, nevertheless.

"Cakes always make her cross," answered Peace, ignoring her share of the
compliment. "Gail says it makes her nervous thinking p'r'aps the oven
will be too hot or too cool, or the dough not just right, or something.
But Faith hardly ever gets so cross that she won't let us clean out the
pans."

They entered the room in search of the cooking dishes it was so often
their privilege to scrape, but the warm kitchen was in spick and span
order, with nothing of the kind in sight; and Allee suggested hopefully,
"Maybe they are in the pantry."

"And maybe Faith is, too," whispered Peace, cautiously opening the door
and peeping within. "No, she ain't, but she has made four big cakes.
My! Don't they look fine? One choc'late loaf, two caramel layers, and
one white square one. Looks like a graveyard with them all set even in a
row, doesn't it? There ought to be three frosting pans to lick."

"I don't see a single any," remarked Allee, poking into every nook and
cranny in hope of finding their treat. "I guess she licked them all
herself."

"That's too mean of her," cried Peace, joining in the hunt with no
better success. "She could have saved those dishes for us as well as
not. What have you found?"

Allee at that moment had unearthed two mysterious little packages, and
in trying to investigate one of them, she dropped it, and the bag's
contents were scattered all over the floor.

"Candies!" gasped Peace. "Sh! Don't cry! I'll help you pick them up.
They must be for Minnie Eastman's birthday cake. I s'pose that is the
white frosted one. The candies aren't hurt a mite, Allee. Stop
snivelling. Let's see what is in that other sack. Sugar, green sugar!
Looks poison, doesn't it? But it tastes all right. Oh, see what I've
done! My little United States map fell right on top of the white cake."

"It fits, too," gulped tearful Allee. "Looks as if it b'longed there."

"It's going to b'long!" cried Peace with sudden decision. "I shall trace
around it with this pointed knife and then fix it up like Hope does her
_paper mush_ maps. See, the frosting is soft enough to work easy."

"You better not," Allen protested. "Faith might not like it."

"Faith's tickled to death when she can find some new way of dec'rating
her cakes, and as this is Minnie's birthday cake she'll be awfully
pleased, 'cause she got the highest mark in geography of anyone in their
room, Hope says."