Ba-kee-da had 

 meal for her. 



Whiteleg grunted. Wah-pu-ta had 

 a good deal to say but she said it 

 mostly to herself in an undertone. 

 Manita was amiable and apparently 

 unconscious of any change in the 

 home atmosphere. 



The dinner was a failure. Manita 

 was attended by bad luck. The beans 

 were not cooked enough and she had 

 forgotten to season them; the mo- 

 lasses, which was to redeem them, 

 had been allowed to stand so long 

 exposed that it had become the 

 last home of so many flies and bugs 

 that even Whiteleg passed it by. 

 The meat, by some awkwardness 

 Manita upset into the fire, and when 

 it was rescued, tasted chiefly of ashes 

 and smoke. Manita obligingly cooked 

 another piece which, she being in a 

 hurry, was not even warmed through. 

 The bread and the corn were burned, 

 Manita's attention having been dis- 

 tracted by her other mishaps. 



The next morning Manita put salt 

 instead of sugar in the coffee, time- 

 worn but effective device, and did 

 several other absent-minded things 



