"It ought to be easy to make a nice big plain cake," said Bert. "I've
seen Dinah do it lots 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 something, too--just to start them
all to work--but Freddie was out of sight.
He had gone into the pantry, where the flour barrel stood.
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