DOROTHY and Ray were making mud pastry¹ on Aunt Polly’s back steps. “Get me a little more water, please; this paste is too thick,” said Dorothy, and Ray brought the water from Aunt Polly’s bright kitchen. They made mud pies and mud cakes and took tiny sticks, with which they traced lines, circles, and faces on them.  
“Wouldn’t it be nice to make real pies and cakes?” said Dorothy.
 
“Yes,” answered Ray, “if you knew how.”
 
“Why, anybody can make them!” exclaimed Dorothy. “It’s just raisins² and things!”
 
2 “If I could make real pies and cakes I’d eat them all the time,” said Ray.
 
“So would I!” exclaimed Dorothy.
 
“O no! you wouldn’t,” said a wee voice behind them. The children turned and there stood a little old woman about as high as your twelve-inch rule. She wore a white cap and blue apron³ and carried a tiny spoon in her hand.
 
“You couldn’t eat sweets all the time,” cried the little old woman.
 
“Just try us,” said Ray. “I think I could.”
 
“I know I could,” cried Dorothy. “I love tarts⁴, I could live on tarts.”
 
“And pudding,” said Ray; “I could eat it all day long.”
 
“So could I,” replied Dorothy; “I wish I had some pudding now.”
 
“You shall have all the pudding you want,” said the old woman, “if you do as I say. Sit close together; close your eyes and when I say ‘Salt’ open them.”
 
3 The children did as the old woman said and sat very still with their eyes closed while she sang these words:—
 
“Listen, children, while I tell
How to make a pudding well:
Sift⁶ your flour fine and white,
And a quart will be all right;
Sugar, just a cup—no more;
Eggs, well beaten—put in four;
Lump of butter melt, and—halt!
Don’t forget a pinch of—Salt.”
The children opened their eyes at the magic word. The old woman had disappeared, and instead of Aunt Polly’s back steps they were in the kitchen of a great castle.
 
“How funny you look, Ray,” said Dorothy, “with that cap and apron on just like a baker⁷.”
 
“Well, you look funny too,” replied Ray; “there’s a big daub of flour on your nose.”
 
Dorothy tried to brush it off and asked, “Is it off?”
 
4 “No,” replied Ray; “it looks bigger than ever.”
 
“Never mind it,” said Dorothy, “let’s go to work and make a pudding, a sweet, juicy, delicious pudding.”
 
“Good,” cried Ray; “my mouth waters already. What can I do?”
 
“You can help,” said his cousin; “first of all, we’ll get a large pan to mix things in.”
 
Over the fireplace in the great kitchen hung shining pans of all sorts and sizes.
 
“I’ll have that large one,” said Dorothy, pointing to one, and Ray started to get it. But imagine their surprise when a round face appeared on the pan that grinned at them, and all at once the pan jumped down from its place and began to waltz around the floor. It looked so funny with its round body and short legs that the children laughed aloud. All of a sudden it gave a jump on to the table, where it remained quiet, like any sensible pudding pan.
 
5 “Now for the flour,” said Dorothy; and no sooner did she say the words than a barrel of flour came dancing into the kitchen on long spindle legs with the funniest face you ever saw, and with its hands folded on its great stomach. The children laughed so heartily⁸ at this droll⁹ sight that the tears rolled down their cheeks; and when the funny barrel made a low bow in the middle of the floor, Dorothy was laughing so hard that she could not speak, but Ray went to the barrel and took out a quart of flour. Then the barrel made another bow and walked with a swagger out of the kitchen.
 
“Eggs next,” said Dorothy, “and here they are.”
 
Four eggs appeared walking on stilts¹⁰ into the kitchen. All at once they jumped off the stilts and began to chase each other. The children gave peals¹¹ of laughter as they watched the activity of the four eggs: at last Ray cried out, “Let’s catch them.” The children began to run6 after the eggs. Dorothy caught one and broke it in the pan, and then the three other eggs scrambled¹² in as fast as they could. “This is the funniest pudding I ever heard of,” said Dorothy. “I wonder what comes next.” Just then a voice sang—
 
“Listen, children, while I tell
How to make a pudding well:
Sift your flour fine and white,
And a quart will be all right;
Sugar, just a cup—no more;
Eggs, well beaten—put in four;
Lump of butter melt, and—halt!
Don’t forget a pinch of—Salt.”
“Get the sugar and salt, and I’ll melt the butter,” said Dorothy; and no sooner did she say the words than sugar, salt, and butter dropped into the pan before their eyes.
 
Then a great spoon walked up to the pan and began to mix the pudding while Dorothy and Ray looked on in wonder.
 
“I forgot raisins,” said Dorothy; and just7 then a shower of raisins fell into the pudding. The children watched the wonderful pudding making itself. “I wonder whose castle this is,” said Ray; “let us walk around and see if we can find out who lives here.”
 
“And when we come back the pudding will be all made,” exclaimed Dorothy.
 
They walked out of the kitchen and came to a great dining-room where a table was spread with all sorts of good things. There were two chairs at the table, and it did not take the children a minute to sit in them and sample the goodies. Ray passed Dorothy a plate that was heaped with flaky jam tarts, and in a very few minutes there wasn’t a tart⁵ left on the plate.
 
They ate plum cake and mince¹³ pies, and when these were disposed of a great steaming pudding appeared in the center of the table.
 
“Perhaps it’s our pudding all cooked,” said Ray, “how good it smells.”
 
They piled their plates with the pudding8 again and again, forgetting their good manners until it was all eaten up.
 
When everything on the table was eaten they arose and walked into another room. They found a table filled with fruit, candies and bon-bons.
 
In a short time these were all eaten up and another room in the castle explored.
 
“Suppose we go outside,” cried Dorothy. “I couldn’t eat any more, could you?”
 
“No,” said Ray; “I don’t feel very well.”
 
“I don’t either,” said the little girl, and they took each other’s hands and went outside into a garden.
 
There was a beautiful fountain playing in the sunlight, but the children never noticed it. To tell the truth they had eaten so much that they did not feel happy at all, and could not enjoy the lovely garden.
 
“I shan’t go another step,” said Ray, with a frown; “I’m going to rest on this bench.”
 
9 “Don’t be so cross,” cried Dorothy. “I’m going to sit down too.”
 
Just as Dorothy sat down there was a loud noise, and in the distance the children saw a great giant approaching.
 
“Let’s hide,” said Dorothy, and quick as a flash the children got behind the bench before the giant had seen them.
 
There was a hole in the back of the bench and they could peek¹⁴ through. The giant walked right over to the bench and sat down, while close behind it, the children were hiding as frightened as could be.
 
They didn’t dare speak, but they thought that the giant was the ugliest monster they had ever seen.
 
After a while he put up his great arms and yawned. The bench groaned¹⁵ and creaked with his immense weight, and all at once it broke down and the giant lay sprawling¹⁶ on the ground. The children jumped from their10 hiding-places, but not before the giant had seen them.
 
“What are you doing in my garden?” roared the giant, getting on his feet.
 
“If you please, we got here by mistake,” said Ray.
 
“We were in the castle,” explained Dorothy, “where we ate so many tarts and things that we had to come out here.”
 
“So ho!” roared the giant. “Did you know that whoever enters my castle belongs to me?”
 
The children trembled, and the monster continued: “This is the kingdom of the greedy, and I am the ruler; henceforth and forever you belong to me.”
 
“Oh, please let us go home,” said Dorothy; “we don’t like your castle.”
 
“Silence!” roared the giant. “If you disobey me I’ll boil you in my pot of soup.”
 
The children were very quiet after that terrible threat and did not dare raise their eyes to look at the giant. They felt very badly. Dorothy had a pain in her stomach and Ray’s head ached.
 
Suddenly a great bell rang and the giant jumped saying: “There’s the dinner-bell, come with me.”
 
“Please, Sir Giant, we don’t want any dinner,” said Ray, timidly.
 
“Silence!” roared the giant, “if you disobey me I’ll boil you in my pot of soup.”
 
Poor sick, surfeited¹⁷ children! They followed the giant into the castle and sat at the very table where they had eaten so much.
 
The table was all piled high with a fresh supply of pastry and the great greedy giant soon devoured¹⁸ everything in sight. The table of goodies made Ray frown, and Dorothy’s head ache. When the greedy monster had eaten everything in sight, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and in a few minutes began to snore.
 
12 “Now is our chance,” whispered Ray, and he took Dorothy’s hand and they stole on tiptoe out of the room. Just as they reached the door a voice sang out, “I’m all ready.”
 
The children turned and there stood their great pudding that had made itself. They started to run away, but the pudding ran after them calling:
 
“Come back, come back!” On and on ran the children, and every now and then a slice of pudding struck them on the back as they ran.
 
Down the long garden, through winding¹⁹ paths, over hedges the children fled from the funny pudding and the kingdom of the greedy.
 
At last they reached a gate and when they were outside the very first person they met was the little old woman with the white cap and blue apron. “What!” she exclaimed, “you are not running away from all the good things in the castle, are you?”
 
13 “Yes, we are,” cried Ray, “we want to go home.”
 
“But think of all the pies and tarts and puddings in there!” cried the little woman.
 
“I would rather have my nice bread and milk than all the tarts in the world,” said Dorothy.
 
“But you said you could live on sweets and eat pudding all day long,” said the old woman.
 
“We didn’t mean it,” replied Ray. “We don’t want any more pudding and we do want to get away from the kingdom of the greedy and this terrible giant.”
 
“Well, well!” said the old woman; “I don’t blame you for that; he is certainly a very ugly giant, and little boys and girls ought not to belong to his kingdom.”
 
“Never,” said Ray.
 
“You know,” continued the old woman, “when little boys and girls are greedy and want more than mamma thinks is good for14 them, they belong to the kingdom of the greedy and this giant is their ruler.”
 
“He is such a horrid²⁰ giant, too,” said Dorothy, “so ugly and impolite.”
 
“Yes,” cried Ray, rubbing his stomach, “he gives me a pain.”
 
Then the little old woman touched them lightly with her spoon and vanished with a smile and the children found themselves on Aunt Polly’s back steps in the midst of their dear mud pies.