Try and see how nice it
is. Not a drop spills out, you see, even when you are lying down. When you
get tired of it as a cup, then I'll call it a fancy vase, and set it on the
mantel for flowers. Handy thing, isn't it? useful or ornamental, just as
you like."
Her father set the cup on the table and laughed pleasantly.
"Now, papa," she added, "you will need your Yankee guessing cap to-night,
for I have something very nice. What is it?" holding up a dish.
"Well, sure enough, what can it be? It smells like chicken, but there is
also a suggestion of oysters. There!--I give it up, Dexie."
"That's right, for I do not know the name of it myself. I saw how to
prepare it in a book, but the name is beyond me. There is no English word
to express how nice this tastes, so you must eat in French to-night, papa,"
sitting beside him to assist. "The little book tells how to prepare some
lovely little stews and dishes, and I am going to make some of them for
you. But don't be alarmed, papa! I'll try all the new inventions on myself
first--to see if they are safe, you know! But, between you and me, papa,
the author of the little cook book is a fraud! Some of the dishes are
quite plebeian.
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