`` We had only bread and molasses for supper and cold ditto for dinner , '' said Una plaintively . Aunt Martha 's habit was to boil a large slab of mutton early in the week and serve it up every day , cold and greasy , as long as it lasted . To this Faith , in a moment of inspiration , had give the name of `` ditto '' , and by this it was invariably known at the manse . `` Let 's go and see where that smell is coming from , '' said Jerry . They all sprang up , frolicked over the lawn with the abandon of young puppies , climbed a fence , and tore down the mossy slope , guided by the savory lure that ever grew stronger . A few minutes later they arrived breathlessly in the sanctum sanctorum of Rainbow Valley where the Blythe children were just about to give thanks and eat . They halted shyly . Una wished they had not been so precipitate : but Di Blythe was equal to that and any occasion . She stepped forward , with a comrade 's smile . `` I guess I know who you are , '' she said . `` You belong to the manse , do n't you ? '' Faith nodded , her face creased by dimples . `` We smelled your trout cooking and wondered what it was . '' `` You must sit down and help us eat them , '' said Di . `` Maybe you have n't more than you want yourselves , '' said Jerry , looking hungrily at the tin platter . `` We 've heaps -- three apiece , '' said Jem . `` Sit down . '' No more ceremony was necessary . Down they all sat on mossy stones . Merry was that feast and long .
Nan and Di would probably have died XXXXX horror had they known what Faith and Una knew perfectly well -- that Carl had two young mice in his jacket pocket .
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