"We farm, we study, we bake, we brew, and are as merry as grigs all day
long. It's school-time now, and we must go; will you come?" said Sally,
jumping up as if she liked it.

"Our schools are not like yours; we only study two things,--grain and
yeast. I think you'll like it. We have yeast to-day, and the experiments
are very jolly," added Johnny, trotting off to a tall brown tower of rye
and Indian bread, where the school was kept.

Lily never liked to go to school, but she was ashamed to own it; so she
went along with Sally, and was so amused with all she saw that she was
glad she came. The brown loaf was hollow, and had no roof; and when she
asked why they used a ruin, Sally told her to wait and see why they chose
strong walls and plenty of room overhead. All round was a circle of very
small biscuits like cushions, and on these the Bread-children sat. A
square loaf in the middle was the teacher's desk, and on it lay an ear of
wheat, with several bottles of yeast well corked up. The teacher was a
pleasant, plump lady from Vienna, very wise, and so famous for her good
bread that she was a Professor of Grainology.

When all were seated, she began with the wheat ear, and told them all
about it in such an interesting way that Lily felt as if she had never
known anything about the bread she ate before. The experiments with the
yeast were quite exciting,--for Fraulein Pretzel showed them how it would
work till it blew the cork out, and go fizzing up to the sky if it was
kept too long; how it would turn sour or flat, and spoil the bread if care
was not taken to use it just at the right moment; and how too much would
cause the loaf to rise till there was no substance to it.