FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91  
92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   >>   >|  
t is getting dark and pretty soon we won't be able to see our way down through the mesquite." CHAPTER XI A FIRE IN THE NIGHT "Aunt Maria, will you let me make some molasses taffy? Monday is Carrie's birthday and I haven't anything else to send her. She always gives me something on my birthday. I will be real careful and clean up everything when I am through." "Well, I suppose you can try it, though I hate to have you messing around while I am getting your father's things ready for his trip." "I won't mess, truly, Aunt Maria," and thankful at receiving even this grudging permission, she flew out into the tiny kitchen to the pleasant task of candy-making, reciting, as she rattled among the pots and pans: "Lars Porsena of Clusium, By the Nine Gods he swore That the great house of Tarquin Should suffer wrong no more. One cup of molasses, one cup of sugar--that molasses looks awfully black; I wonder if the taffy will be dark. I like the light-colored best. 'Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play.' A lump of butter and a tablespoon of vinegar. How pretty the stuff looks boiling up higher and higher every minute. Hm, but it's hot work bending over this stove. Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly toward the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three. My! I would like to have been there and watched them. Isn't Horatius a splendid name! And Herminius--isn't it grand! But they are like Dionysius, no one ever uses them nowadays. I believe that candy is almost done. It is brittle when I put it into water. Round turned he, as not deigning Those craven ranks to see; Naught spake he to Lars Porsena, To Sextus naught spake he." She seized the kettle of boiling syrup and lifted it off the stove, still speaking the impassioned lines of that stirring poem, and gesticulating wildly, heedless of the utensils in her hands. "So he spake, and speaking sheathed The good sword by his side, And with his harness on his back, Plunged headlong in the tide." Bang! went the kettle against a chair-back, and the seething, bubbling mess of sticky brown syrup poured in a flood over furniture, girl and floor
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91  
92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

molasses

 

kettle

 

speaking

 
boiling
 
higher
 

Porsena

 
bridge
 

birthday

 

pretty

 

watched


Herminius
 

Horatius

 

splendid

 

nowadays

 

Dionysius

 
dauntless
 

measured

 

warlike

 

hundred

 
trumpets

sounded

 
spears
 

advanced

 

ensigns

 

spread

 

Rolled

 

slowly

 
turned
 

harness

 

Plunged


headlong

 

sheathed

 

poured

 

furniture

 

sticky

 

seething

 

bubbling

 

utensils

 

heedless

 

craven


Naught

 

deigning

 

Sextus

 

naught

 

stirring

 

gesticulating

 
wildly
 

impassioned

 

seized

 

lifted