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Updated: June 20, 2025
But though he said this sort o' defient like, he begun to feel bad about what he had done, I could see it by his looks; but he tried to keep up, and says he, "My conscience is clear, clear as a crystal goblet; and my stomack is as empty as one. I didn't eat a mouthful of supper. Cake, cake, and ice-cream, and jell! a dog couldn't eat it. I want some potatoes and meat!"
Brown is sick, and I'm to make her blackberry jell over here; and she's given me some sugar, besides the pay she'll give me, so now we can have our pie."
Jonesville wouldn't care if you made a couple of quarts for sickness or jell, but she feels as if she couldn't bear to see you swing out and make so much." Sez I, "Jonesville and I want you to stop makin' it we want you to like dogs." And then sez I, in still firmer axents, "It hain't a-settin' a good example to the schoolchildren in Palo Alto and the United States."
It was, on the whole, he reflected, the most enjoyable dinner that he ever ate. Never was such a turkey; and to see it give way under David's skillful knife wings, drumsticks, second joints, side bones, breast was an elevating and memorable experience. And such potatoes, mashed in cream; such boiled onions, turnips, Hubbard squash, succotash, stewed tomatoes, celery, cranberries, "currant jell!"
"I thought I'd bring your supper in here, you know," he explained confidentially, "so 's't you could have it a little more snug. And my wife she kind o' got wind o' what was going on, women will, you know," he said with a wink, "and she's sent ye in some hot biscuit and a little jell, and some of her cake." He set the waiter down on the table, and stood admiring its mystery of napkined dishes.
"But Gwenny never had any cookies as good as those, and the jell is so pretty!" repeated Myron stubbornly. "I think it is so nice of you, Myron," said Rosanna. "I wish I had known about Gwenny too so I could have saved her some of my cookies. Let me help you do them up.
They cracked the kernels and took out the tiny white nuts, and last of all Grizzel added a good handful of gooseberries. "That's my idea," she said, "it will help the cherries to jell. I think I will pop in some red currants too." "You are clever," Mollie said admiringly. "I never in all my life saw a girl as young as you make jam."
"It's like when Mother cooks rose geranium leaves in her grape jell. She says they gives it a finer flavour, but they don't really. You can't taste them for the grapes, so they're just wasted when they're so darling and perfumy and just right in the garden." Her face was pink with earnestness. "D'you see what I mean, Rev?" "Yes, I think I see, Harry." Then she surprised him.
At the moment, Norah was quite of importance. Mrs. Brown had succumbed to a headache earlier in the day. Norah had found her, white-faced and miserable, bending over a preserving pan full of jam, waiting for the mystical moment when it should "jell." Ordered to rest, poor Brownie had stoutly refused was there not more baking to be done, impossible to put off, to say nothing of the jam?
And then you see the myrtle and violets growing beneath them and near the house clumps of daisies and forget-me-nots. And then you spy the beehives and the quaint old well and you walk through the cool grape arbor right into the little kitchen, where Mrs. Dunn, as likely as not, is making a cherry pie or currant jell or maybe a strawberry shortcake. She is a delicious and an old-fashioned cook.
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