"The butter from the table?" asked Bettina. "No, Bob, I keep that left-over butter in a covered dish in the cupboard. You see, there are so many times when I need butter for cake making or cooking, and prefer not to have it very hard. Then I use that cupboard butter. There's the doorbell, Bob. Now who do you suppose that can be?"

"A telegram from Uncle Eric," said Bob, when he returned from the door. "Well, isn't that the limit! He's coming tonight!"

"Tonight!" echoed Bettina.

"Yes, on business. You see, there are so many people in town for the state fair and there are several that he must see. He's a queer old fellow—Uncle Eric is—and he has some queer notions. Doesn't like hotels, or anything but home cooking. He doesn't want anything elaborate, but he's pretty fussy about what he does want. I'm sorry for you, Bettina, but I guess we'll have to make him welcome. He's been pretty good to me, in his funny way, and so I suppose he feels he can descend on us without warning."

"But, Bob—tonight! Why, I'm not ready! I haven't groceries in the house, or anything! And I was planning to give you a cooked cereal for breakfast tomorrow."

"It's too bad, Betty," said Bob sympathetically, "but it seems as if we'll just have to manage some way. Uncle Eric has been good to me, you see. He's an old fogy of a bachelor, but he has a warm heart way down underneath his crusty exterior. And——"

"Don't you worry, Bob," said Bettina heartily. "We will manage. As a rule, I think it's pretty poor taste for anyone to come without warning or an invitation, but maybe Uncle Eric is an exception to all the rules. Tell me about him; do you have time? When does the train get in? Do you have to meet it?"

"I guess I'd better hurry right off now."

"But, Bob, tell me! What must I have for breakfast?"

"Anything but a cereal, Betty! Uncle Eric draws the line at cereals. He has an awful time with his cooks, too. They never suit him."

"Goodness, Bob!" said Betty, in despair. "And I have almost nothing in my cupboard. It's as bare as Mother Hubbard's!"

"Good-bye, dear! I'm off! I know you'll think of some thing."

Bettina smiled hopelessly at the masculine viewpoint, and as soon as Bob had gone she sat down to think, a dish towel in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"Be a sport, Bettina," she murmured to herself. "If Uncle Eric doesn't like his breakfasts, it's his own fault for coming. Get a pencil and paper and plan several cereal-less breakfasts, so that while he is here you will never be at a loss."

Thus fortified by her common sense and what is less common, her sense of humor, Bettina soon evolved the following breakfast menus for Uncle Eric:

Beat the eggs slightly, add salt, milk and sugar. Place in a shallow dish. Soak bread in the mixture until soft. Cook on a hot, well-greased griddle, browning on one side and then turning and browning on the other. Serve hot with maple syrup.

Mix the flour, baking powder and salt, add the milk to the well-beaten egg, and pour the liquid slowly into the dry ingredients. Beat thoroughly for one minute. Put a spoonful on a hot, well-greased griddle. When done on one side, turn, and brown on the other. Never turn more than once.

Place bacon slices, which have had the rind removed, on a hot tin pan and set directly under a flame for three minutes. Turn and broil the other side.

Mix the corn, egg, bread crumbs, salt, pepper and sugar. Shape into cakes two inches in diameter and one-half an inch thick. Grease a griddle or a frying-pan thoroughly, and when very hot, place fritters on the pan. When brown on one side, turn over onto the other side. Serve hot, with syrup.