Evening star., 1921-12-18

lark of it. Mrs. Jones is in the
nursery giving the children their sup
per. Let's go up and watch"
1 must say that the affair I found
under way in the nursery wasn't ex-
actly my idea Of lark. 1t listened
more like a riot in an orphan asylum.
There were only three of the Jones
kiddies. running from Baby Brother.
aged two and half, up to Big Sister,
who was six; but they were all regis
tering discomfort with things in gen.
eral. 1t was a chorus of complaint.
pitched in high c. or thereabouts on
the scale. gathered that something
was the matter with the way their
cereal had been cooked. Big Sister
yelled defiantly that she wouldn't eat
"'at OIL stuff. Lumps in it an all!'
Baby Brothers remarks I couldn't
quite get. but they were emphatic.
Also. he added to the din by pounding
on his plate with his spoon.
Mrs. Jones, a meek little woman
with mild brown eyes. wasn't doing
much to restore peace. "Oh. dear"
she sighed as Jones towed me in. Il
can't do a thing with them. Blaine.
do wish nurse hadn't left. and my
nerves are all upset from that ex-
perience in the car Oh! I didn't
notice some one was with you. Has
the agency sent"
This is Miss Dodge. dearie," breaks
IN. Jones. "She has como to have
supper with US. you know"
"Supper!" gasps Mrs. Jones. "Oh
yes-er-of course! How nice"
isn't it?" says I. But after all
I'm afraid I can't stay. Perhaps
could help with the children. though
I ought to know how; I had enough
younger brothers and sisters. It's the
cereal, isn't it? Yes. there are Jumps
Needs little more cooking. If yor
had hot plate handy I might"
+ X 4 \
eating like little, lambs. While
Mrs. Jones and I were getting them
into their cots, Mr.. Jones started
gayly for the kitchen. announcing that
he was going to cook supper for Us
and that must stay.
"we'n camp out, eh?" he declared
'I did once when I was a boy. Go,
to be quite a cook, and I don't be-
lieve I've forgotten"
IT wish he wouldn't" sighs Mrs
Jones.
''Oh, let him try" says I. "All men
think they're wonderful cooks, you
know, until they actually tackle the
job"
But It seems she was right. Hall
an hour later, when we eased our
selves OWN to the ground floor in the
little elevator, we found clouds OF
smelly smoke drifting about. The
dining room was thick with it. it was
dense as we rushed through the but.
ler's pantry, and in the kitchen we
could barely make out Blainey Jones
with his head stuck out Of an open
window, while on the gas stove a pan
of fat blazed merrily and billowed
and belched vile fumes like the stack
Of a fertilizer works. managed tC
turn of the gas, smother the young
bonfire with rug. and lead Mr.. Jones
into the library, which had been shut
of from the smudge.
He was sight. There were smutty
blisters on his face and hands, his
hair and clothes were splashed with
grease. and his eyes were red and
weepy.
What on earth have you been do.
ing, dearie?' asked Mrs. Jones.
Eggs" says he. IT was poachins
some eggs. Must have had too much
fat, for 1t boiled over and blazed up"
But, dearie." protests Mrs. Jones
zone doesn't poach eggs in hot fat
How silly"
'Eh?" says he. turning on he,
sharply. 'silly don't see 1t. Yor
may not poach eggs that way. but J
do. Always did. And just be.
cause"
There's the door buzzer" inter
rupts Mrs Jones. Some one il at the
front door. You'll have to go. dearie.'
Dearie went. wiping the grease