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Once in Clorinda's own dominion, the darkey so improved the impression already produced that he was soon discussing a delicate luncheon with great relish, and so disturbing Clorinda's equanimity by his compliments, that she greatly endangered the pie-crust she was industriously rolling out on one end of the table where he sat.
"You needn't go on you needn't say any more. It's a horrid world, nothing is worth living for; pie-crust, nor housekeeping, nor nothing. I hate the world, and every one in it, and I hate you most of all, Nell, for your horrid news. Father blind! No, I won't believe it; it's all a lie." "Poor Polly," said Helen. "Don't believe it, dear, I wish I didn't. I think I know a little bit how you feel.
I believe she'd hate the sight of him, if 't wasn't the minister; but 'tis the minister, and when she's put face to face with him, she can't help saying yes and no." "I dunno'," said Mrs. "Remember the party over to Tiverton t'other night, an' them tarts? You see, Rosanna Maria Pike asked us all over; an' you know how flaky her pie-crust is.
Regardless of this admonition, the poor old man broke off a huge mass of pie-crust, which he began to mouth with his toothless gums, a quiet smile indicating at once his indifference to Meerta and consequences, while he mumbled something about its not being every day he got so good a chance. "Das true," remarked the old woman, with another hilarious laugh. "Dey go hoff awful quick dis day."
"Bob! Bob!" called a woman in loud tones, as she came to the kitchen door, her arms, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, covered with flour. "Bob, I want you to go to the store for me. I need some more lard for this pie-crust." There was no answer, and the woman looked across the big yard at one side of the cottage. "Where can that boy be?" Mrs. Henderson murmured.
But the boy's attention was not given wholly to the work, his mind was partly occupied with something else. He wandered over and stood at the opposite end of the table, watching Queen Mab as she put the finishing touch to her pie-crust, twisting up the edge into her own particular pattern. "I don't see why people shouldn't wish for something better when they have nothing but bad luck," he said.
In a moment or two we were thrown with a crash against a frame building whose walls gave way before the flood as easily as if they were made of pie-crust, and the timbers began to fall about us in all directions. "Up to this time I had retained a firm hold upon my wife, but as I found myself pinned between two heavy timbers the agony caused my senses to leave me momentarily.
Fancy making pie-crust myself, and cakes, and custards! Mrs. Power is rather cross, but she'll have to let me make what things I choose when I'm housekeeper, won't she, father?" "Manage it your own way, dear, I neither interfere nor wish to interfere. Oh, what a mess we shall be in! But thank heaven it is only for a week.
As he did so there was revealed a ridge of heavy wood over which it had hung. By the same process he exposed a yard or two of this black mud-covered edge. "Well I'll be jiggered!" said Billy. "It's a scow or something!" said Brownie, almost too astonished to speak. "The island seems to overlap it sort of like a pie-crust," drawled Townsend.
The most unhealthful kinds of food are those which, are made so by bad cooking; such as sour and heavy bread, cakes, pie-crust, and other dishes consisting of fat mixed and cooked with flour. Rancid butter and high-seasoned food are equally unwholesome. The fewer mixtures there are in cooking, the more healthful is the food likely to be.
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