"Alas!" I said, "it is too early for currant-pies."
"I saw," said one of the girls, "Mrs. Sampson poking the oven, and a
smell of pies was in the air."
"Let us go into the kitchen," exclaimed Laura.
The proposal was agreeable; so we went, and found Mrs. Sampson making
plum-cake.
"The pies are green-gooseberry-pies," whispered Laura,--"very good,
too."
"Miss Denham," shrieked Mrs. Sampson, "you haven't done growing
yet.--How's your mother and your grandmother?--Have you had a revival
in your church?--I heard of the young men down to Jones's,--our
minister's wife knows their fathers,--first-rate men, she says.--I
thought you would be here with them.--'Sampson,' I said this morning, as
soon as I dressed, 'do pick some gooseberries. I'll have before sundown
twenty pies in this house.' There they are,--six gooseberry, six
custard, and, though it's late for them, six mince, and two awful great
pigeon pies. It's poor trash, I expect; I'm afraid you can't eat it;
but it is as good as anybody's, I suppose."
We told her we should devour it all, but must first catch some fish;
and we joined the gentlemen on the veranda. A boat was ready for us.
Laura, however, refused to go in it. It was too small; it was wet; she
wanted to walk on the bridge; she could watch us from that; she wanted
some flowers, too.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70