t."

"Well, if the club adopts the plan it will not be hard to make such
aprons. We must certainly have caps, and those should be thought of at
once."

Grandmamma was always my resort when I was at my wits' end, and so I
went to her with a question: "Had she anything which would do for our
caps?"

"There must be something in my lower left-hand wardrobe drawer," said
grandmamma, considering. "Thee may bring me a green bag, which thee will
see in the far corner, and then we will talk about those caps in
earnest."

That wonderful green bag proved a sort of fairy find. There were
remnants of mull, Swiss, jaconet and other fabrics--white, plain and
barred. Grandmamma cut us a pattern. At four the seven girls were
assembled in her room. Jeanie on a hassock at her feet, the remainder
grouped as they chose.

How our fingers flew! It was just a quarter to six when every cap was
finished, and each girl had decided upon her special color. We hadn't
the ribbon to make our bows, and were obliged to wait till somebody
should go to the city to procure it; but each girl knew her favorite
color, and that was a comfort. Linda Curtis chose blue, and I would wear
rose-tints (my parents did not insist on my wearing Quaker gray, and I
dressed like "the world's people"), Veva chose old gold, and each of the
others had a preference.

"You will look like a field of daisies and clover, dearies," said
grandmamma.

"There!" cried Jeanie. "Why not have a four-leaved clover as our badge?
There isn't anything prettier."

The four-leaved clover carried the day, though one or two did speak for
the daisy, the maiden-hair fern and the pussy willow. All this was
before the subject of the national flower had been agitated.

"Where are my pupils?" Miss Muffet appeared promptly at the hour, and
wore a most business-like air as she began her instructions. "Compressed
yeast has found its way to Bloomdale, my dears," she said, "so that I
shall not have to begin by telling you how to make yeast. That useful
lesson may wait till another day. Before we do anything, I will give you
some rules for good family bread, and you may write them down, if you
please.

"1. Always sift your flour thoroughly."

Seven pencils wrote that rule in seven notebooks.

"2. Mix the dough as soft as it can be handled. You must never have it
too stiff.

"3. Set it to rise in a moderately warm place.

"4. You cannot knead bread too much. The more it is kneaded the firm