me, that doesn't have to be cooked. Understand?
_Cooked_,'' she finished, as she carried the
beefsteak away and took possession of the hitherto
despised cold lamb.

Once more Billy made a mad search through
cupboards and shelves. This time she bore back
in triumph a can of corn, another of tomatoes, and
a glass jar of preserved peaches. In the kitchen
a cheery bubbling from the potatoes on the stove
greeted her. Billy's spirits rose with the steam.

``There, Spunkie,'' she said gayly to the cat,
who had just uncurled from a nap behind the
stove. ``Tell me I can't get up a dinner! And
maybe we'll have the peach fritters, too, ``she
chirped. ``I've got the peach-part, anyway.''

But Billy did not have the peach fritters, after
all. She got out the sugar and the flour, to be
sure, and she made a great ado looking up the
rule; but a hurried glance at the clock sent her
into the dining-room to set the table, and all
thought of the peach fritters was given up.



CHAPTER X

THE DINNER BILLY GOT