"
"What is the matter with her hand?"
"She burned it trying to save her child from burning."
"Did she save it?"
"No; and that is what makes her so queer. She has never been the same
since."
"My! how warm it is getting," said Florence. "I am glad we have broad
brimmed hats. Let's hurry home. There is your Mrs. Brown again."
"Oh, dear!" said Dimple. "Let us turn up this street; it is just as near
to go home this way." So they turned the corner and reached home before
Mrs. Brown knew which way they had gone.
"Suppose we watch Sylvy make cake," said Dimple, when they had delivered
their packages. "She always lets me watch her. And then we can scrape
the bowl. Don't you like to?"
"I never do at home," said Florence. "Our cook is so cross and mamma
does not like me to go into the kitchen."
"My mamma doesn't care; she lets me go whenever I please, and sometimes
I help Bubbles clean knives and do such things, so she can get through,
and play with me sooner."
"Sylvy, we are coming to watch you make cake; may we?"
"I'm not a carin'!" said Sylvy. "Git 'round on the other side of the
table."
"See her break the eggs," said Florence. "Could you do it, Dimple? I'd
be sure to get the yolks all mixed with the whites, and she just turns
one half into the other as easily.
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