Her grandmother gave her some and a little plate. Polly rubbed the plate
with melted butter. Then she rolled out the dough and put it on the
plate.
"That is very good, Polly. Now we will fill our pies. Here is the
mincemeat."
Polly tried to make her little pie look like grandmother's large one.
"Next we must put on the covers," said grandmother. "Roll yours out like
mine."
She had Polly stick a knife through her cover in four places. Ask your
mother why she did this.
Then she helped Polly put on her cover, for that was quite hard to do.
Last of all she showed her how to pinch together the edges.
"Now," said grandmother, "we will bake our pies. What shall you do with
yours?"
"I should like to take it home to show mother and father. May I?"
"Why, to be sure. They ought to have a bite of your first pie. Please,
Peter, carry this pail of sugar into the pantry for me. I do not need it
any more."
The pies were baked brown. As soon as hers was cool enough, Polly
carried it up the hill to mother.
"See, mother," she said, "I can cook now. Grandmother let me make a pie.
It is for you and father."
"How good it looks, Polly! We will try it for dinner. You have done this
well. I see that I must begin to teach you to cook.
"Bread comes first. The next time I sponge bread, you may try. Your
first good loaf you may take to grandmother."
"Oh, may I, mother? I want to learn to cook. Then I can cook for you and
father. I watched grandmother all the morning. I helped her, too."
"So did I help grandmother," said Peter.
"O Peter, what did you do to help?" asked Polly. "You spilled the milk
and then you spilled the flour. That isn't helping much."
"I did help," said Peter. "I helped all the morning. I worked very
hard."
"I am sure that you meant to, Peter," said mother. "But tell me what you
did."
"Why," said Peter, "why, I carried away the pail of sugar."
Polly laughed, but mother said, "That was kind, Peter. And you know that
you always help by being a good boy. So I really think that you are
right."