"Why, to-morrow!" as she looked in her book. "Isn't that fine! But--those potatoes must be done. I should think so! A minute more, and they'd have been burned!" she said as she drained off the water. "Now, ready for the masher!" "Quite ready," said a little voice, and Mary Frances was not surprised to see Potato Masher tumble over the edge of Boiler Pan as she put him on the table. [Illustration: "Quite ready."] "Push my head down hard!" said he in a thick, mushy voice, and Mary Frances did as he directed. Suddenly Potato Masher stopped work. "How will you know how much potato to put into the soup?" he asked. "Why," said Mary Frances, "there were only six boiled ones altogether, so the three for the soup will be just half." "Pretty good, pretty good for a little girl just learning to cook," Potato Masher said, and ducked his head into the potatoes again. When they were finished Mary Frances said: [Illustration: "Push my head down hard"] "You know so much about potatoes, perhaps you can sit right up on that box," pointing to the sugar box, "and tell me when I make a mistake. I'm going to do 'xactly as my book says--you cry out, 'Stop!' when I do anything the wrong way." "It--will--be--the--day--of--my--life--ever--to--be--remembered--" Potato Masher ran his words together clumsily--"But I should be very much obliged to you if you would first wash my face." [Illustration: "First wash my face."] "Why, certainly," said Mary Frances. "I didn't like to suggest it." "Thank you kindly, Miss. 'Tis a pleasure to serve you," said the little fellow, as he perched himself on the sugar box, when Mary Frances brought him back to the table. "All ready?" asked the little girl. "Class proceed!" said Potato Masher, with a school teacher air. Only twice did he interrupt her as she followed every direction given in the recipes: once, to remind her of the potatoes in the oven; and again, to tell her to pour the soup very slowly, lest she burn herself. [Illustration: "Class proceed"] "It's mag-nif-i-cent!--this Potato Lunch," said he, as Mary Frances carried the last smoking dish to the dining table. "'Tis a proud day for the 'Assistant Chef'--meaning myself." He made a pompous little bow toward the Kitchen Folks. "I little thought she'd be on time. I was afraid I'd have to strike before she was ready," declared Mantel Clock, beginning to strike twelve just as Billy came in. "Menus!" exclaimed the boy. [Illustration: "Menus!" exclaimed the boy.] "Jimminy! 'Billy's Potato Lunch,'" he read. "Oh, I say--if I'd known I'd have dressed for the occasion!" "Don't make fun, Billy," begged Mary Frances. "'Make fun,'" cried Billy. "Just taste that soup--and see if anyone could make fun. It's fit for the President." "Oh--Billy!" Mary Frances laughed. "Maybe you think I don't mean it," said Billy, helping himself to mashed potatoes. "Why didn't you invite some company?"