When Molly had made her clear soup on Saturday she had looked regretfully at the couple of pounds of meat and vegetables that were strained from it, wishing she knew to whom to give it, as her own family was not large enough to need it, and hoping some one might ask for food at the door. She had kept it, also about a cup of the soup that was thick at the bottom (the richest part, although for appearance’ sake it must not be used with _clear_ soup). She had a use for it now: it would make a savory hash, not nourishing enough for an invalid like Mrs. Gibbs to depend on, but good for her children and herself, in addition to the steak. Marta was busy washing; so, soon after eleven, Molly chopped the meat and vegetables quite fine, added about a third the quantity of cold mashed potato to it, a tea-spoonful of Worcestershire sauce, and a table-spoonful of flour. This she moistened with a half cup of the soup and seasoned it with pepper and salt. Then she greased a deep yellow pie-plate, put the hash in it and set it in the oven. Having some kind of hot bread every morning, Molly used but very little bread. She had made a loaf on Saturday which was more than half left. She must give that, and make a few quick rolls for their own dinner. While the hash was getting brown she put a pint of flour to dry and warm, and the third of a cake of compressed yeast to dissolve in a cup of warm milk, into which, when well mixed, she stirred a table-spoonful of butter till it got soft, and then the beaten yolk of an egg, two tea-spoonfuls of sugar and one half of salt. She made a hole in the flour, poured in the milk, etc., and stirred them together, adding a little more warm milk till it was a thick paste, too stiff for batter, yet not stiff enough for dough,—_just as stiff as it would be stirred with a spoon_. She beat it for five minutes, and then set it, covered with a cloth, in a warm place. The hash was now quite brown; and, as Molly had no one to send to-day, she put on her bonnet and took it and the bread and piece of steak to Mrs. Gibbs, begging her to cook and eat the latter for herself. “I will for baby’s sake. Thank you! Oh, thank you!”