<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
<div class='chaptertitle'>A MAN'S LUNCH</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i119a.jpg" width-obs="116" height-obs="277" alt=""Thank you, Miss Mary Frances."" title="" /></div>
<div class='cap'>"MOTHER writes that she is so glad you are
giving Billy such good lunches," said
Father, looking up from his letter. "I've
been waiting a long time for an invitation to lunch,
little daughter. Do you know, I'll be quite jealous of
Billy if my turn doesn't come soon!"</div>
<p>"Oh, Father," Mary Frances begged, "won't you
come to-morrow? I didn't think you could get away
from the store,—and I don't know so very much to
cook."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Miss Mary Frances, I'll be most happy
to lunch with you to-morrow," said Father, in a real
so-ci-e-ty tone.</p>
<p>When Mary Frances went into the kitchen next
morning, she said:</p>
<p>"I guess I'll make the dessert first; rice pudding is
good cold."</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i119b.jpg" width-obs="290" height-obs="173" alt=""It is ex-cel-lent cold."" title="" /></div>
<p>"It is ex-cel-lent cold," spoke the deep voice of
Baking Dish, "es-pec-i-ally if made by<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="center"><span class="smcap">No. 24.—Rice Pudding.</span></div>
<div class="blockquot">
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Ingredients">
<tr><td align='left'>3 tablespoons rice</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>¼ cup sugar</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>1/8 teaspoon salt</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>sprinkling nutmeg</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>4 cups milk, or 3 cups milk and 1 cup water</td></tr>
</table></div>
<p>1. Pick over the rice, and wash by putting in a strainer and shaking
in a pan of water.</p>
<p>2. Butter the baking dish.</p>
<p>3. Stir rice, sugar and salt into the milk.</p>
<p>4. Pour into the baking dish.</p>
<p>5. Sprinkle with nutmeg.</p>
<p>6. Cover with a lid, and bake slowly 2 hours.</p>
<p>7. Uncover and brown ½ hour.</p>
</div>
<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Note.</span>—Seeded raisins may be added before browning. If desired, a
thin narrow shaving of the outside rind of a lemon may be used as flavoring.
Put this in the milk with the rice.</p>
</div>
<p>"Why, thank you, Baking Dish," exclaimed Mary
Frances. "Will you kindly say it over slowly? I'll
do it then, keeping time with your directions."</p>
<p>This he did, and as Mary Frances slipped him into
the oven, "I'm sure this will be good," he said; "I
can always tell."</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i120a.jpg" width-obs="119" height-obs="205" alt=""I'm sure this will be good"" title="" /></div>
<p>"I'm very glad," said Mary Frances, gratefully.</p>
<p>"Now for the Boiled Mutton," she said. "I guess,
Iron Pot, you can tell me about that."</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i120b.jpg" width-obs="348" height-obs="199" alt="Slipped him into the oven." title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Yes, ma'am," said Iron Pot, importantly climbing
from the shelf, and eying critically the piece of meat
Mary Frances had placed on the table.</p>
<p>"That's a pretty nice cut of meat—pretty nice.
It will be all right to cook it as I will tell you. But,
really, mutton is less greasy if it is boiled long enough
before needed to let the gravy cool. Take off the cake
of fat which will form on the top when cold. Of
course, take the meat out as soon as it is tender, and
after 'skimming' the gravy, put it in again to re-heat."</p>
<p>"I haven't time!" said Mary Frances, anxiously.</p>
<p>"You can put yours in a bowl, and stand the bowl
in ice water to cool the liquor quickly, and do the same
thing that way, now——"</p>
<p>"You give the recipe?" asked Mary Frances.</p>
<p>Iron Pot looked pleased, and began:</p>
<div class="center"><span class="smcap">No. 25.—Boiled Mutton.</span></div>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>About 3 pounds rack of mutton or "yearling."</p>
<p>1. Wipe with a damp cloth.</p>
<p>2. Pour 3 cups boiling water into a large pot.</p>
<p>3. Throw in 2 peeled onions.</p>
<p>4. Put in the meat. Cover.</p>
<p>5. Boil 10 minutes.</p>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i121a.jpg" width-obs="117" height-obs="212" alt="Stand the bowl in ice water." title="" /></div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i121b.jpg" width-obs="395" height-obs="215" alt="Iron Pot looked pleased." title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>6. Draw pot to back of stove where it will simmer, or just bubble,
until meat is tender when tried with a fork, which will be
in about 1½ hours.</p>
<p>7. Take out the meat.</p>
<p>8. Skim off the fat from the surface of the liquor; or if there is
time, cool, and remove the hardened fat.</p>
</div>
<p>"Correct!" exclaimed Sauce Pan, bending over
Mary Frances' book. "And the gravy is made——"</p>
<p>"Saucy!" began Iron Pot, in a boiling rage; but
he suddenly stopped, as Mary Frances shook her finger
at him.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i122a.jpg" width-obs="128" height-obs="189" alt=""Saucy!"" title="" /></div>
<p>"It's all right this time," she said.</p>
<p>"It is your place, Sauce Pan——"</p>
<p>"It is my place," said Sauce Pan, trying not to let
Iron Pot see how pleased he was to tell about</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">No. 26.—Sauce or Gravy for Boiled Mutton.</span></p>
<p>1. After cooling and skimming off the fat, measure the water in
which the meat was boiled.</p>
<p>2. To each cupful, allow</p>
<p>1 tablespoon flour, ¼ teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon vinegar.</p>
<p>3. Moisten these with a little cold water.</p>
<p>4. Stir them into the boiling gravy.</p>
<p>5. Add 1 tablespoon finely minced parsley.</p>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i122b.jpg" width-obs="417" height-obs="233" alt=""Correct!" exclaimed Sauce Pan." title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Thank you both, my friends," said Mary Frances,
lifting Iron Pot.</p>
<p>"My, but you're heavy!"</p>
<p>"'Tis true," said Iron Pot, sadly, "all my old-fashioned
friends, like Iron Tea Kettle—glancing toward
the new Tea Kettle—and Caldron, are gone. But,"
he added, brightening up, "it has been proved that
for boiling meats, no modern 'light-weights' could 'do
them up so brown!'"</p>
<p>"We'll prove it again," laughed Mary Frances.
"I do believe I'll have a splendid lunch for Father—a
regular big man's lunch. Listen!</p>
<div class='center'>
Boiled Mutton Parsley Sauce<br/>
Boiled Potatoes<br/>
Rice Pudding Coffee<br/></div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i123a.jpg" width-obs="107" height-obs="211" alt=""A splendid lunch for Father."" title="" /></div>
<p>"And now I'll set the table! I think I'll use the
very best silver, and the prettiest dishes—it will please
father, I know."</p>
<p>This is the way Mary Frances set the table for her
father and Billy's lunch. Mary Frances sat in her
mother's place.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i123b.jpg" width-obs="403" height-obs="189" alt=""My, but you're heavy!"" title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i124.jpg" width-obs="528" height-obs="740" alt="table setting" title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Just as Mary Frances was finishing getting the
lunch, the 'phone bell rang and Billy answered.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG src="images/i125a.jpg" width-obs="82" height-obs="279" class="split" alt=""Hello!"" title="" />
<ANTIMG src="images/i125b.jpg" width-obs="331" height-obs="197" class="split" alt=""Hello!"" title="" /></div>
<p>This is what Mary Frances heard:</p>
<p>"Hello!"</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"Yes!"</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"Too bad, Father, can't you?"</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"Well, I'll tell her, but I hate to, awfully. She's
been hard at work all the morning."</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"I?—Oh, I attended to the fire for her, then went
upstairs to make those drawings."</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"Oh, yes; I'll look after her, all right."</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"Yes, she is—a regular 'brick!'"</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"All right. Good-bye!"</p>
<p>—————</p>
<p>"Sis!"</p>
<p>"I know, Billy," Mary Frances sobbed. "I know!—Father<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</SPAN></span>
can't come, and everything is ready. Oh,
dear! Oh, oh,—de—ar!"</p>
<p>"Oh, I say, Sister," said Billy; "I'll pretend I'm
Father—won't that do? And—oh, yes! I'll show you
how to fold a napkin into 'Cinderella's slipper!'"</p>
<p>"Where did you learn how?" Mary Frances began
to dry her tears.</p>
<div class='poem'>
"Not on land, and not on sea<br/>
Did this knowledge come to me.<br/>
When I learned, I had on my hat—<br/>
Where was I? Now, riddle me that?<br/>
<b>* * * * *</b><br/>
No, lady fair, not up in the air—<br/>
On a boat in the river."<br/></div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i126a.jpg" width-obs="118" height-obs="237" alt=""Oh, dear! Oh, oh,—de—ar!"" title="" /></div>
<p>"Silly Billy!" exclaimed Mary Frances. "Please
show me the trick now, will you?"</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i126b.jpg" width-obs="418" height-obs="202" alt=""I'll show you how to fold a napkin."" title="" /></div>
<p>"Yes," said Billy, "and then I'll eat Father's
share, as well as mine, of a very 'grand' lunch—if my
nose isn't deceiving me."</p>
<p>"Well," said Mary Frances, "that will help some;
but please fold the napkin."</p>
<p>And Billy showed her this:</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i127.jpg" width-obs="548" height-obs="740" alt="napkin folding" title="" /></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Mary Frances was so pleased with the Cinderella's
slipper that she folded all the napkins on the lunch
table.</p>
<p>"Looks like a hotel table," said Billy.</p>
<p>"Well, Billy," said Mary Frances, "I know fancy
folded napkins aren't so nice for home—but you don't
mind."</p>
<p>"Indeed, no," said Billy; "I feel proud."</p>
<div class='center'><b>* * * * * * *</b></div>
<p>While they were at lunch there came a knock and
a boy from the store handed in a box of candy and a
little note addressed to</p>
<div class="center"><i>Miss Mary Frances.</i></div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i128a.jpg" width-obs="117" height-obs="217" alt="A box of candy and a little note" title="" /></div>
<p>"Ahem," said Billy, as Mary Frances opened the
box, and offered him some candy "since Father couldn't
come, he sent a sweet guest in his place."</p>
<p>"It isn't very nice to eat up your guest," laughed
Mary Frances.</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i128b.jpg" width-obs="481" height-obs="184" alt=""What's better than a cream chocolate?"" title="" /></div>
<p>"Mary Frances," asked Billy, "what's better than
a cream chocolate?"</p>
<p>"Two cream chocolates, I guess," said Mary Frances,
passing the box—"but, Billy, listen:</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i129.jpg" width-obs="528" height-obs="736" alt="Letter" title="" /></div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</SPAN></span></p>
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