"It is the steam, trying to get out, that makes the bubbles," said
mother. "You know that steam is strong. You have seen it lift the lid of
the teakettle.
"Now let us try the candy. Bring a cup, Polly. Bring a cup, Peter. Fill
them half full of cold water."
Mother dipped a spoon into the boiling candy. She poured part of the
spoonful into Polly's cup, and the rest into Peter's cup.
"Let it stand a minute. Then we will see if the candy is hard enough to
pull. After that you may eat it."
This was just what the children wished to do. They were glad because
mother had to try the candy again.
At last, it was poured into cake tins. It was set out of doors to cool.
There was a big tin for mother, a little tin for Polly, and a little tin
for Peter.
Peter and Polly could hardly wait for the candy to cool. They were in
such a hurry to begin pulling it. Polly stuck her finger into hers
before it was ready. It almost burned her.
A few minutes after this, mother said, "Yours is cool enough now. Mine
is not. Wash your hands again. Then you may begin."
What a sticky time there was!
Polly pulled her piece over and over quite well. Soon it began to grow
light colored. When it stuck to her hands, she ran out of doors. This
cooled the candy.
But Peter could not pull so fast. His piece stuck to both hands. It got
between his fingers. Mother scraped it off and he began again.
At last, he dropped part of it on the floor. Mother said, "Let it alone,
Peter. I will scrape it up. It is not good to put with yours now."
Peter said, "I guess I do not like to pull candy. I am going to make fly
paper of mine. It is sticky enough."
"Yes," said mother. "It is sticky. But you are doing very well."
"Mine is ready to cut up, I think," said Polly.
She laid it on the clean kitchen table. She pulled it out into a long,
thin strip. Then she took a pair of clean scissors. She cut the strip
into short pieces.
"That is just the way," said mother. "Put it on the buttered plate. You
are a good candy maker. Grandmother must have some of this. O Peter!
What are you doing?"
Poor Peter had somehow got his hand stuck to his hair.
"I am just trying to get my hand away," said Peter. "But it is stuck."
"I should think it is," said mother. "You must sit quite still until I
get my candy ready to cut. Then I will help you."
"O Peter! How funny you look!" laughed Polly. And indeed he did look
funny, with his hand held close to his hair.
"But I don't feel funny, Polly. You stop laughing at me."
Mother gently pulled his hair away from the candy. Then she scraped his
hands.
"Please save my candy, mother," said Peter.
"I cannot, Peter. It is not clean now."