“I do not!  I want a big, all-enveloping cook’s apron.”

“Well, I suppose you don’t want a man’s.  I’ll find you one of Marie’s.”

“I don’t care whose it is, if it’s big.  Skip, now!”

Mona vanished, and Patty jumped out of bed, and dressed for her new work.  She chose a pink-sprigged dimity, simply made, with short sleeves and collarless neck.  A dainty breakfast cap surmounted her coil of curls, donned, it must be confessed, because of its extreme becomingness.  Mona provided a large, plain white apron, and going to the kitchen, Patty considered the situation.

The viands for the luncheon had arrived, but were not in the least prepared for use.  A large basket showed a quantity of live crabs, which lay quietly enough, but a twitching claw here and there betrayed their activity.

“Mercy!” cried Mona, “let’s throw these away!  You can’t do anything with these creatures!”

“Nonsense,” said Patty, “I’m versed in the ways of crabs.  I’ll attend to them.  What else, Mona?”

“Oh, here are some queer looking things from the butcher’s.  I don’t know what they are.  Can they be brains?”

“No, they’re sweetbreads, and fine ones, too.  And here is the romaine for the salad, and lovely squabs to roast.  Oh, Mona, I’m just in my element!  I love to do these things; you know I’m a born cook.  But I must have a helper.”

“I know; Marie always helped Francois.  They were a splendid pair.  It’s a pity Aunt Adelaide had to stir them up so,—­and all over nothing.”

“Well, don’t cry over spilt eggs.  I’ll do up this luncheon, and I’ll fix it so I can slip up and dress, and appear at the table as if nothing had happened.  The waitress and the butler can manage the serving process?”

“Oh, yes.  I hate to have you do it, Patty, but I don’t know what else to do.  Here, I’ll help you.”

Patty had already filled a huge kettle with boiling water, and was about to put the crabs in it.

“All right, Mona; catch that side of the basket, and slide them in, all together.  It seems awful to scald them, but the sooner the quicker.  Now,—­in they go!”

But in they didn’t go!  One frisky crab shot out a long claw and nearly grabbed Mona’s finger, which so scared her that she dropped her side of the flat basket, and the crabs all slid out on the floor instead of into the kettle.

With suddenly aroused agility they scuttled in every direction, some waggling to cover under tables and chairs, and some dancing about in the middle of the floor.

Hearing Mona’s shrieks and Patty’s laughter, Daisy came running down.  But the sight was too horrifying for her, and she turned and sped back upstairs.  Poor Daisy was not so much to be blamed, for having lived all her life in Chicago, she had never chanced to see live crabs before, and the strange creatures were a bit startling.

She flew out on the veranda and caught Big Bill by one sleeve, and Roger by another.