"Jappy's always ahead in everything," grumbled Percy, laboring away at
his dough. "How in the world do you make the thing roll out straight?
Mine humps up in the middle."

"Put some more flour on the board," said Polly, running over to him.
"There, now see, Percy, if that doesn't roll smooth." "It does with
you," said Percy, taking the rolling-pin again, to send it violently
over the long-suffering dough, "and--I declare, it's going to do with
me," he cried, in delight at the large flat cake staring up at him from
the board. "Now, says I, I'll beat you, Jappy!" And presently the whole
kitchen resounded with a merry din, as the several cakes and biscuits
were declared almost ready for their respective pans.

"But, I can tell you, this gingerbread boy is going in next," declared
Mr. King from Phronsie's baking-board. "It's almost done, isn't it,
child?"

"Not quite, Grandpapa," said Phronsie; "this eye won't stay in just like
the other. It doesn't look the same way, don't you see?" pointing to the
currant that certainly showed no inclination to do its duty, as any
well-bred eye should. "Wait just a moment, please; I'll pull it out and
stick it in again."

"Take another," advised the old gentleman, fumbling over the little heap
of currants on the saucer. "There, here's a good round one, and very
expressive, too, Phronsie."

"That's lovely," hummed Phronsie, accepting the new eye with very sticky
fingers. "Now, he's all ready," as she set it in its place, and took the
boy up tenderly. "Give me a pan, do, Polly."