"
Here Esther, the early riser of the family, created a diversion by
coming in fully dressed and announcing that Mammy Lou was willing to
teach as many girls as cared to come after breakfast how to make
beaten biscuit.
"Take Libbie," giggled Bobby, whose sense of humor was easily
tickled. "She's collecting stuff for her hope chest and I should
think biscuit recipes would be just the thing. Do you want to learn
to cook, Betty? Esther has a kitchen hobby and rides it almost to
death."
"I do not!" retorted Esther indignantly. "Do I, Louise? Mother loved
to cook when she was a girl, and she says she likes to see me fussing
in the kitchen."
Betty was showing Libbie how to hold her crochet hook, and now she
looked up from her pupil.
"Why, I'd love to learn to make those wonderful biscuits Mammy Lou
makes," she said slowly, "but I really have to go into Washington to-day.
That is, if it will not upset any one's plans? I can easily walk
to the trolley line, and I won't be gone longer than a couple of
hours."
A trolley line ran about half a mile from the house, and to Betty
who had frequently walked ten miles a day while at Bramble Farm, this
distance seemed negligible.
"Let me go with you, Betty?" coaxed Bobby.
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