to be tomato soup; it came in a can with directions outside and cost fifteen cents, which Mabel considered cheap because of the printed cooking lesson.
"If they'd send printed directions with their raw chickens and vegetables," said she, "maybe folks might be able to tell which recipe belonged to which thing."
"Well," laughed Marjory, "some cooks don't have to read a whole page before they discover that directions for making plum pudding don't help them to make corned-beef hash—you always forget to look at the top of the page."
"Never mind," said Jean, "she found a good recipe for salad dressing."
"That's true," said Marjory, "but before you use it you'd better make sure that it isn't a polish for hard-wood floors—there, don't throw the book at me, Mabel, I won't say another word."
The three mothers and Aunty Jane, grown suddenly astonishingly obliging, not only
