rt
and go over to the Aunt Hannah lot, and draw home some brick there are
in an old chimney over there; and then we will get a cask of lime and
some sand for mortar, and have a mason come half a day and build you a
good big brick oven, beside the wash-room chimney. It can be seven or
eight feet long by four or five wide, big enough to bake all the pies,
bread, pork and beans and most of the meat you want to cook for us, in a
week. Then after you have baked, Saturday afternoon, you no need to have
much more cooking to do till the next Saturday. All you need do over the
stove will be to make coffee and tea, boil eggs and potatoes once in a
while and warm up the food.' 'There's an oven that goes with the
sitting-room chimney,' said she; 'I used always to bake in it; but
somehow I have got out of the way of it, since we began to use stoves.'
I couldn't get her to say that she wanted an oven, so I did nothing
about it. But I know it would be a great deal easier, after she got the
habit of it again."

"But how could you have hot tea-rolls every night and morning, Addison,
with an oven like that?" asked Ellen.

"I should not want them, myself," replied Addison. "They nearly always
smell so strongly of soda that I do not like them; and I do not think
they are wholesome. For my own part I like bread better, or bread made
into toast."

"Well, Ad, I think that sounds like a pretty good plan," said Kate.
"Mother has an oven, too; but we never use it now, except to smoke bacon
in. I think it would save us a great deal of hard work, if we baked in
it once a week."

"Hark," said Tom, suddenly.

Far aloft, overhead, a faint "quark-quock" was heard.

"'Tis a flock of wild geese, going over," said Addison. "It's early in
the season for them to be on their way to the south."

"Gram says that's a sign of an early winter," said Ellen.

We sat listening to the occasional quiet note of the flock gander for
some moments till they passed out of hearing toward the lake. Addison
then lighted our lantern; and after accompanying Tom and Kate a part of
the way to the Edwards place, across the fields, we bade them good night
and made our own way home.

Neighbor Wilbur had called at the door, during the evening, and left our
mail on the doorstep. There was a letter for me from my mother, and also
a circular from some swindling fellow in "Gotham," informing me most
positively that for the sum of one dollar, a powder would be forwarded
to me