8 



BOYS AND GIRLS IN BIOLOGY. 



With such memories of the dear old buckwheats, I 

 can but think kindly of them in spite of the advice of 

 doctors and the contempt of foreigners, I do not like 

 to turn against such old friends ; yet, now I am obliged 

 to defend them because of their nationality, and not 

 because of their own worth. I plead for them as I 

 plead for pumpkin-pie. I believe in both, because 

 both are genuine American inventions — " my country, 

 right or wrong." But the love of other years was 

 based upon no such poetical illusion — my interest, then, 

 in buckwheat-cakes was in the cakes themselves, their 

 delicious taste, and their curious way of " coming up." 

 How they could be " so light " was almost as great a 

 wonder to us children as how they could be " so good." 

 How could so few handf uls of buckwheat make so many 

 platef uls of cakes ? The magic power that turned so 

 little into so much, what was it ? Of one thing we felt 

 very certain — the yeast must have something to do with 

 the mystery. So, one day, we determined to find out 

 all about it. 



It was a rainy day, and we were playing in the store- 

 room where all the fruit, flour, and such things, were 

 kept, and where Bridget put her yeast-cakes to dry. 

 This was our chance to put the yeast into the witness- 

 box and make it speak for itself. First, we pounded 

 up several of the cakes, keeping close watch for any 



