“Toss me a banana, will you, Dick?” This from Roy, who, having caused the last of his doughnut to disappear, was still swallowing convulsively. “I ate so many sandwiches,” he added, in an apologetic tone, “that I can’t do justice to the doughnuts. Doughnuts are awfully filling things, aren’t they?” “They certainly are,” agreed Dick and Chub together. “These will be fine for supper,” continued Dick. “Yes,” answered Roy, but with less enthusiasm. “Or breakfast,” suggested Chub. “I’m awfully fond of doughnuts for breakfast. With lots of coffee,” he added as an afterthought. Harry, who had listened to the remarks with a puckered brow and downcast eyes, struggling heroically with her own doughnut meanwhile, suddenly dropped her face into her hands and there was an audible sob. “Hello!” cried Chub. “What’s the matter, Harry?” There was no reply save more sobs. The three boys gazed from Harry’s heaving shoulders and bent head to each other’s faces and then back again in dismay. “It’s the doughnuts,” whispered Dick in a flash of comprehension. Then in loud, cheerful tones, “Have another doughnut, Roy?” he asked. “I’m going to.” “Sure,” said Roy. “Have one, Chub?” “You bet! I just didn’t want to eat them all now for fear there wouldn’t be any left for breakfast; but I dare say there’ll be enough. Good, aren’t they?” “Don’t think I ever tasted better,” said Dick. “Swell!” said Roy. “They’re not! They’re perfectly horrid!” Harry’s tearful eyes were gazing at them tragically. “It--it’s the almond!” “The--the what?” asked Roy. “The almond flav-flavoring,” faltered Harry. “I thought it would be nice to put some flavoring in--and I got too--too much, and they’re nasty!” “Nothing of the sort!” cried Chub, deftly tossing a half-devoured doughnut over his head and reaching for another. “They’re not bad at all, are they, fellows?” “I should say not!” exclaimed Dick. “I guess it was the flavoring I tasted that time. You see, I didn’t know they were flavored, Harry. If I’d known it, I’d have--er--understood.” “I put in too much,” sniffed Harry, dabbing her eyes with a diminutive handkerchief. “I didn’t know how much to use and so I put in four tablespoonfuls. They’re just as bitter and horrid as they can be!” “Oh, well, don’t you care, Harry,” Roy comforted. “You’ll know better next time.” “There isn’t going to be any--next time,” answered Harry, dolefully. “I’m never going to make any more.” But this elicited such a torrent of protestation, and it sounded so genuine, that Harry was comforted, and in the end relented. “Maybe they’d be better just plain,” she said, “without any flavoring at all.” “Well, we could try them that way next time,” said Chub, “and see. I suppose the trouble with almond is that it’s pretty strong. Now, vanilla or--or wintergreen--”