"There's no scum on the milk, and the cream's cream! Five cents! She won't get rich on this." Then he applied himself to his "No.

1" sandwich, and his determined expression gave way to one of pleasure.

"Why that's bread--real bread! I believe she made it herself!" She did in truth,--she and Julianna with Hector as general assistant.
The big oven was filled several times every morning: the fresh rolls disappeared at breakfast and supper, the fresh bread was packed in the lunch pails, and the stale bread was even now melting away in large bites behind the smiling mouths and mustaches of many men.

Perfect bread, excellent butter, and "What's the filling I'd like to know ?" More than one inquiring-minded patron split his sandwich to add sight to taste, but few could be sure of the flavorsome contents, fatless, gritless, smooth and even, covering the entire surface, the last mouthful as perfect as the first.

Some were familiar, some new, all were delicious.
The six sandwiches were five cents, the cup of coffee five, and the little "drop cakes," sweet and spicy, were two for five.