"Let us each tell our dish, and not change. We shall never learn if we don't keep to one thing till we do it well. I will choose mince-pie, and bring a good one, if it takes me all the week to do it," said Edith, heroically taking the hardest thing she could think of, to encourage the others. Fired by this noble example, each girl pledged herself to do or die, and a fine list of rich dishes was made out by these ambitious young cooks. Then a vote of thanks to Patty was passed, her biscuit unanimously pronounced the most successful contribution, and the vase presented to the delighted girl, whose blushes were nearly as deep as the color of the flowers behind which she tried to hide them. Soon after this ceremony the party broke up, and Edith went home to tell the merry story, proudly adding that the country cousin had won the prize. "You rash child, to undertake mince-pie. It is one of the hardest things to make, and about the most unwholesome when eaten. Read the receipt and see what you have pledged yourself to do, my dear," said her mother, much amused at the haps and mishaps of the cooking-class. Edith opened her book and started bravely off at "Puff-paste;" but by the time she had come to the end of the three pages devoted to directions for the making of that indigestible delicacy, her face was very sober, and when she read aloud the following receipt for the mince-meat, despair slowly settled upon her like a cloud. One cup chopped meat; 1-1/2 cups raisins; 1-1/2 cups currants; 1-1/2 cups brown sugar; 1-1/3 cups molasses; 3 cups chopped apples; 1 cup meat liquor; 2 teaspoonfuls salt; 2 teaspoonfuls cinnamon; 1/2 teaspoonful mace; 1/2 teaspoonful powdered cloves; 1 lemon, grated; 1/4 piece citron, sliced; 1/2 cup brandy; 1/4 cup wine; 3 teaspoonfuls rosewater. "Oh me, what a job! I shall have to work at it every day till next Saturday, for the paste alone will take all the wits I've got. I _was_ rash, but I spoke without thinking, and wanted to do something really fine. We can't be shown about things, so I must blunder along as well as I can," groaned Edith. "I can help about the measuring and weighing, and chopping. I always help mother at Thanksgiving time, and she makes splendid pies. We only have mince then, as she thinks it's bad for us," said Patty, full of sympathy and good will. "What are you to take to the lunch?" asked Edith's mother, smiling at her daughter's mournful face, bent over the fatal book full of dainty messes, that tempted the unwary learner to her doom. "Only coffee. I can't make fancy things, but my coffee is always good. They said they wanted it, so I offered." "I will have my pills and powders ready, for if you all go on at this rate you will need a dose of some sort after your lunch. Give your orders, Edith, and devote your mind to the task. I wish you good luck and good digestion, my dears."