Keep all the pink ones for the dining-room, and put the others wherever you like.

Now, Mancy," she went on, "we'll discuss what to eat." "Yas'm, and I s'pose it'll be some ob dem highfalutin fandangoes ob yo's, what nobody can't eat." "You guessed right the very first time," said Patty, smiling back at the good-natured old cook, whose bark was so much worse than her bite.
"You see, Mancy, this is my own party, and so I can have just what I like at it.

Not even papa can object to the things that I have for my own Tea Club." "Dat's so, chile, but co'se yo' knows you'se mighty likely to spoil dem good t'ings befo' yo' get 'em made." "Oh, I don't think I will this time," said Patty, with that assured little toss of her head which always meant perfect confidence in her own ability.
Mancy said nothing, but grunted somewhat doubtfully as Patty went on to describe the beautiful things she intended to have.
"I want rissoles," she said, as she turned over the cookery-book, and looked in the index for R."They're awfully good." "What's dem, missy?
I never heard tell of 'em." "I forget what they are," said Patty, "but we had them at Delmonico's one day, when papa and I were there at lunch, and I remember thinking then they'd be nice for the Tea Club.

They were either some little kind of a cake, or else a sort of croquette.

Either would be nice, you know.