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'Why, you look smarter by day, said Poll, 'than you do by candle-light. I never see such a tight young dasher. 'Reether so, Polly. How's our fair friend, Sairah? 'Oh, she's pretty well, said Poll. 'She's at home. 'There's the remains of a fine woman about Sairah, Poll, observed Mr Bailey, with genteel indifference. 'Oh! thought Poll, 'he's old. He must be very old!
But no; neither of them had, it was evident, seen my ladies in half-mourning, about whom I was diffident of inquiring directly. Were any fresh people coming to reside in the neighbourhood that they had heard of? "No," said Lady Dasher, with a melancholy shake of her head. "No; how should they? It is not very likely that any new residents would come here!
He brought her a pail of water from the spout, and stood by with a pleased kind of look, while she carefully lifted the cover and rinsed down the little bits of butter which stuck to it and the dasher; took out the butter with her ladle into a large wooden bowl, washed it, and finally salted it. "Don't take too much pains," said he; "the less of the hand it gets, the better.
Freeze the mixture, stirring slowly; when frozen, remove the dasher, and fold in the cream whipped to a stiff froth. This is one of the nicest ices for afternoon or evening collations. This will serve eight persons; in stem glasses, ten persons. 1 quart of raspberries 3/4 pound of sugar 1 pint of water Juice of one lemon
Then came Kit with the leaves all whipped off his willow switches. Then came Kat with her pail; and, last of all, Vrouw Vedder and the milk! When the new family of geese had been taken care of, and the fresh milk had been put away to cool, Vrouw Vedder got out her churn and scalded it well. Then she put in her cream, and put the cover down over the handle of the dasher.
But she looked at me, and that was something. Lady Dasher, however, stopped for a minute or two; so did her daughters. "Beautiful weather for Christmas, Lady Dasher," hazarded I. She evidently did not agree with me, for she looked about her mournfully, with a down-drawn visage, just as if we were all attending a funeral, of which she was the chief mourner.
Add the sugar to the pint of water and stir it over the fire until it boils; add the grated yellow rind of two oranges and the juice; strain through a fine sieve and freeze, turning the freezer slowly all the while. Remove the dasher, stir in a meringue made from the white of one egg, and repack to ripen for an hour at least. This will serve six persons.
On the way home Bill held the reins in one hand and attempted to take mine with the other, a proceeding which I checked, whereupon he was exceedingly confused. The whip fell from his clutch over the dasher, and in recovering it his hat fell off; shame kept him silent for the rest of the ride. I begged Alice to propose no more rides with Cousin Bill.
Mawley was constantly going there, as Lady Dasher had said, and Mrs Clyde encouraged him, there could be no doubt; there must be something in it, or these reports would never have got about. "There is never any smoke without fire." Besides, Min herself did not dislike the curate as I did. I could see that plainly for myself the night of that birthday party at her house.
When cold, freeze; when frozen, remove the dasher and stir in the remaining pint of the cream whipped to a stiff froth. This will serve ten persons. 1 quart of cream 1/2 pound of pulverized sugar 4 ounces of so-called Mocha coffee Grind the Mocha rather coarse, put it in the double boiler with one half the cream, and steep over the fire for at least ten minutes.
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