of times. She just mixes up her milk and eggs and butter, and sifts in the flour, and there you are."
"Much you know about it!" declared Nan. "If it isn't just put together right, it will be as heavy as lead."
"We might take the recipe out of mamma's cook-book," went on Bert; and then the cry went up with which I have opened this chapter.
The twins were soon in the kitchen, which Dinah had left spotlessly clean and in perfect order.
"We mustn't make a muss," warned Nan. "If we do, Dinah will never forgive us."
"As if we couldn't clean it up again," said Bert loftily.
Over the kitchen table they spread some old newspapers, and then Nan brought forth the big bowl in which her mother or the cook usually mixed the cake batter.
"Bert, you get the milk and sugar," said Nan, and began to roll up her sleeves. "Flossie, you can get the butter."
She would have told Freddie to get some-
