"Then don't try on any account, dear No. 6," exclaimed Aunt Judy. "I
like make-believe Cook Stories much better than real ones."

"So do I!" cried No. 7, "they're so much the more entertaining."

"And not a bit less useful," subjoined Aunt Judy, with a sly smile.

"Well, I didn't see much good in the real ones," pursued No. 7, in a
sort of muse.

"Let us tell you another make-believe one, then," cried No. 6, who
saw that Aunt Judy was moving off, and wanted to detain her.

"Then it's MY turn!" shouted No. 8, jumping up, and stretching out
his arm and hand like a young orator flushed to his work. And
actually, before the rest of the little ones could put him down or
stop him, No. 8 contrived to tumble out the Cook Story idea, which
had probably been brewing in his head all the time of Aunt Judy's
talk.

It was very brief, and this was it, delivered in much haste, and with
all the earnestness of a maiden speech.

"_I_ had a button boy too, and he was a--what d'ye call it--oh, a
RASCAL, that was it;--he was a rascal, and liked the currants in
mince-pies, so he took them all out, and ate them up, and put in
glass beads instead. So when the people began to ear, their teeth
crunched against the beads! Ah! bah! how nasty it was!"

No. 8 accompanied this remark with a corresponding grimace of