e you some doughnuts
as soon as the fat is hot--fresh ones and good ones, too. I make good
doughnuts, just such as Martha used to make in Jerusalem. I've fried
doughnuts for a hundred ministers in my day, and they all say that my
doughnuts are good, whatever they may think of me. Come in. I'm proper
glad to see ye."

Jasper sat down in the kitchen of the cabin. The room was large, and had
a delightful atmosphere of order and neatness. Over the fire swung an
immense iron crane, and on the crane were pot-hooks of various sizes,
and on one of these hung a kettle of bubbling fat.

The table was spread with a large dish of dough, a board called a
kneading-board, a rolling-pin, and a large sheet of dough which had been
rolled into its present form by the rolling-pin, which utensil was white
with flour.

"I knew you were comin'," said Aunt Olive. "I dropped my rollin'-pin
this mornin'; it's a sure sign. You said that you are goin' to Rock
Island. The Injuns live there, don't they? What are ye goin' there for?"

"Black Hawk has invited me. He has promised to let me have an Indian
guide, or runner, who can speak English and interpret. I'm going to
teach among the tribes, the Lord willing, and I want a guide and an
interpreter."

"Black Hawk? He was born down in Kaskaskia, the old Jesuit town, 'way
back almost a century ago, wasn't he? Or was it in the Sac village? He
was a Pottawattomie, I'm told, and then I've heard he wasn't. Now he's
chief of the Sacs and Foxes. I saw him once at a camp-meetin'. His face
is black as that pot and these hooks and trummels. How he did skeer me!
Do you dare to trust him? Like enough he'll kill ye, some day. I don't
trust no Injuns. Where did you stay last night?"

"At Mr. Lincoln's."

"Tom Linken's. Pretty poor accommodations you must have had. They're
awful poor folks. Mrs. Linken is a nice woman, but Tom he is shiftless,
and he's bringin' up that great tall boy Abe to be lazy, too. That boy
is good to his mother, but he all runs to books and larnin', just as
some turnips all run to tops. You've seen 'em so, haven't ye?"

"But the boy has got character, and character is everything in this
world."

"Did you notice anything _peculiarsome_ about him? His cousin, Dennis
Hanks, says there's something peculiarsome about him. I never did."

"My good woman, do you believe in gifts?"

"No, I believe in works. I believe in people whose two fists are full of
works. Mine are, like the Marthas