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Each pie came from the oven with some symbol of the range printed upon it, the general effect being enhanced by the upheaval of the piecrust in the process of baking. When the punchers rode in that evening and entered the messroom, they sniffed knowingly. But not until the psychological moment did Sundown parade his pies.
"Now, massa, him 'tink foot ready," said Aboh, and without more ado, he opened the hole and produced the foot hot and steaming. Just taking off the top, as if it had been a piece of piecrust, what was our surprise and very great satisfaction to find the interior full of a rich glutinous substance.
But I guess if your pursuits are sedentary, you better take the apple separate." Bartley did not say anything; but he kept a lazily interested eye on Kinney as he rolled out his piecrust, fitted it into his tins, filled these from a jar of mince-meat, covered them with a sheet of dough pierced in herring-bone pattern, and marshalled them at one side ready for the oven.
It's all as plain as piecrust. An' Passon ain't done nothin' either but jest his dooty as he allus doos it, he ain't been up to the Manor more'n once, he ain't been at the 'All, an' Miss Vancourt she ain't been 'ere neither since the day he broke his best lilac for her. So it can't be she what's done mischief nor him, nor any on 'em. So I sez to myself, what is it? What's come over the old place?
The air hung steady and still as a plumb line dropped from the sky. "What a hole fer white men ter be in." "It's like a busted heat-blister on a big piecrust," commented Buck Bellew, whose jauntiness had wilted. His red sash was of a piece now with the rest of his garments-a dirty, dull gray. After a while a hot wind sprang up. It felt like the heated blast from an opened oven door.
"You certainly are poetic," drawled Bobby, who had come into the Beldings' big kitchen, too, and was comfortably seated on the end of the table at which Laura had been rolling out piecrust. "Now, if that crust is only crisp!" murmured Mother Wit. "If it isn't," chuckled Chet, stamping the snow off his shoes, "we'll make you eat it all."
The floor was of flags, fresh sanded; the counter was of deal, scrubbed as white almost as flour; on the shelves were heaped the loaves of the morning's baking, along with a large store of scones and rolls and baps the last, the best bread in the world biscuits hard and soft, and those brown discs of delicate flaky piecrust, known as buns.
Everything that could be made with buttermilk was ordered so to be done, and nothing but water could be used in mixing the raised bread. The corncake must never have an egg; the piecrust must be shortened only with lard, or with a mixture of beef-fat and dripping; and so on, and so on, eternally.
They are little, round, puffy balls made of something like piecrust, and they are hollow. The inside is filled with something like corn-starch pudding, only nicer. Uncle Wiggily was going along with the cream puffs in his basket when, coming to a nice place in the woods, where the sun shone on a green, mossy log, the bunny uncle said: "I will sit down here a minute and rest."
The day at last came for their return to the city and to the work they were so much better able to do. The little, green-painted house was in spotless order to leave behind. As Mrs. Camp was to come the following day, they had filled the little pantry with food not remarkably light cake or bread, not especially flaky piecrust, but everything flavored with sympathy and gratitude and good will.
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