"I hope it's a sort that goes cold quickly, and won't take till next morning to harden," said Dilys Fenton. "Last 5th of November I think we didn't boil ours quite long enough, and we really couldn't wait, so we ate it soft."
"You boil this till it threads from the spoon, and then you beat it with a fork till it creams," murmured Gipsy, with her head over the pan.
"Let me stir!" begged Pamela Harvey.
"You mustn't stir it. That's the secret of good Fudge-making, not to stir at all while it's boiling. It makes it coarse-grained if you do."
"Won't it burn, though?"
"It doesn't out in U.S.A. But then we make it on stoves, you see. I can't guarantee it on an open fire. By good rights it ought to have pieces of hickory nut in it, but it won't taste bad without."
"I'd call that fire fierce for ordinary toffee," commented Lennie Chapman.
"I'm sure I smell something," sniffed Dilys Fenton.
"Oh, it's burning!"
"Gipsy! Stir it!"
"It's boiling over!"
"Take it off, quick!"
Half a dozen eager hands snatched at the pan, but it was too late; the sugary compound rose like a volcano and overflowed into the fire. A wail of lament came from the disappointed girls.
"I knew it would!" protested Lennie.
"Oh, it's made an awful smell! Open the window, somebody!" shrieked Gipsy. "If we don't mind,
