"Not any, papa," said Patty, laughing merrily. "I know enough housekeeping
not to put yeast in a cake. I'd use baking-powder."

"Yes," said her father, quite undisturbed, "that is what I
meant,--baking-powder. Now how much of it would you use?"

"Well, about two teaspoonfuls," said Patty, feeling very important and
housewifely.

"Yes. Now suppose instead of two teaspoonfuls you put in two cupfuls."

"Why then I wouldn't have any cake at all! I reckon it would rise right up
the chimney and run down on the roof outside."

"Well, that shows just what I mean. There'd be a too great proportion of
baking-powder, wouldn't there?"

"Indeed there would," assented Patty, much interested in the conversation,
but a little bewildered.

"To try again," her father continued, "suppose your frock was so covered by
trimming that the material could scarcely be seen at all."

"Then," said Patty, who was rapidly learning her lesson, "then there'd be
too great a proportion of trimming for the frock."

"Ah," said her father, "you begin to see my drift, do you? And if you had
all tables in your house, and no chairs or bedsteads or bureaus, there'd be
too great a proportion of tables, wouldn't there?"