"_Book!_" sniffed Aunt Maria, putting the breakfast cereal on to cook. "_Book!_ A _book_ can't tell you exactly when a piece of toast is brown enough, or a potato just done enough to be mealy, nor how to keep a pan from burning. Book! It's talent! That's what it is! Blood will tell. You inherited it from me. I never burnt pans--never in my life--there's no excuse for it." "Yes, ma'am," said Mary Frances, thinking of the ruined breakfast. "Go up, and open the beds to air," commanded Aunt Maria. When Mary Frances got back, she could scarcely see across the kitchen for smoke. "Fire!" screamed Aunt Maria, making for Boiler Pan on the stove. [Illustration: "Fire!" screamed Aunt Maria.] [Illustration: "BOOK!" SNIFFED AUNT MARIA, "BOOK!--IT'S TALENT!"] "I thought the house was on fire," she panted, snatching it up. "Oh,--oh, I wish I had my smelling salts! The porridge is all burnt up! What a disgrace!" Mary Frances felt very sorry for her, but when she saw Sauce Pan and Coffee Pot holding their queer little fists over their mouths to keep from laughing out, and when she remembered how funny the old lady looked making across the kitchen in two steps, she ran back into the dining room to laugh. [Illustration: She ran into the dining room to laugh] "I must stop," she'd say to herself--and the more she'd say it, the more she'd laugh. "This is dreadful, Mary Frances," she'd scold herself; "but, oh, my, wasn't it funny!"--and away she'd go again. At length she Went back upstairs until Aunt Maria called, "Breakfast!" Even at the table she couldn't look at Aunt Maria without laughing. "What's the matter?" asked Brother. "Oh, don't ask me!" Mary Frances begged, hiding her face. She didn't dare go into the kitchen until after her aunt had gone, for fear of disgracing herself laughing. [Illustration: To keep from laughing out.] [Illustration] When she did go out to look up her next lesson in her little book, Boiler Pan walked dolefully up to her, holding out a piece of sand-paper. He looked so funny with a big black spot on one eye! Bowing, he began to recite: "Of course, you never burn your pans, Of course, no more do I; But, should such sad things happen, A piece of this just try." "I will!" exclaimed Mary Frances; and in less than a twinkle had rubbed all the burnt spots off. "My,--that's better; thank you," brightly beamed Boiler Pan. Mary Frances sat down on the rocking chair, and opened her book. "Tea! Omelet!" she exclaimed. "Isn't that nice!" Just then came a knock at the kitchen door. [Illustration: "I thought the house was on fire!" she panted.] CHAPTER XII THE TRAMP MARY FRANCES peeped out of the open window. A tramp! "Oh, dear,--shall I open the door?" thought the frightened little girl. "Please, Miss,"--the oldest, hungriest-looking tramp she ever saw looked down at her, taking off his worn out cap. "Please, Miss--a cup o' tea--anything? I am that tired and faint."