ing to take it off now," said Jonathan. "Look out!"

"Do you think it's time?" I demurred.

"We'll know soon," said Jonathan, with his usual composure.

We hung over him. "Now you beat it," I said. But he was already beating.

"Get some cold water to set it in," he commanded. We brought the dishpan
with water from the well, where ice still floated.

"Maybe you oughtn't to stir so much--do you think?" I suggested, helpfully.
"Beat it more--up, you know."

"More the way you would eggs," said Janet.

"I'll show you." I lunged at the spoon.

"Go away! This isn't eggs," said Jonathan, beating steadily.

"Your arm must be tired. Let me take it," pleaded Janet.

"No, me!" I said. "Janet, you've got to get your coat and things. You'll
have to start in fifteen minutes. Here, Jonathan, you need a fresh arm."

"I'm fresh enough."

"And I really don't think you have the motion."

"I have motion enough. This is my job. You go and help Janet."

"Janet's all right."

"So am I. See how white it's getting. The Judge said--"

"Here come Hiram and Kit," announced Janet, returning with bag and wraps.
"But you have ten minutes. Can't I help?"

"He won't let us. He's that 'sot,'" I murmured. "He'll make you miss your
train."

"You _could_ butter the pans," he counter charged, "and you haven't."

We flew to prepare, and the pouring began. It was a thrilling moment. The
syrup, or sugar, now a pale hay color, poured out thickly, blob-blob-blob,
into the little pans. Janet moved them up as they were needed, and I
snatched the spoon, at last, and encouraged the stuff to fall where it
should. But Jonathan got it from me again, and scraped out the remnant,
making designs of clovers and polliwogs on the tops of the cakes. Then a
dash for coats and hats and a rush to the carriage.

When the surrey disappeared around the turn of the road, I went back,
shivering, to the house. It seemed very empty, as houses will, being
sensitive things. I went to the kitchen. There on the table sat a huddle
of little pans, to cheer me, and I fell to work getting things in order to
be left in the morning. Then I went back to the fire and waited for
Jonathan. I picked up a book and tried to read, but the stillness of the
house was too importunate, it had to be listened to. I leaned back and
watched the fire, and the old house and I held communion together.

Perhaps in no other way is it possible to get quite what I got that
evening. It was partly