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Updated: May 21, 2025
Don't worry any more about the matter, ma'am. We've got your excellent piecrust, at any rate, and that's quite good enough for me." He chuckled still, though, for some time; and he chuckled more presently, when something else, quite as important as the bread, was discovered also to be missing. The discovery came about in this wise.
"I there got an abundance of substantial food for my soul, while Father Nicholas serves us out only piecrust, filled with dry dust that is neither meat nor drink," said the old man, as he looked up while packing his young master's valise. Merle D'Aubigne's "History of the Reformation."
"All right; we'll go," said Uncle Wiggily. "I'll go pull my motorboat up on dry land, so it won't get caught in the ice when the lake freezes this winter, and you boys can help me." So Curly and Flop went off to help Uncle Wiggily, and the pie lady for such they called her started her baking. She peeled the apples and cut them up, and then she got the piecrust mixed.
It had been an old promise on his part, ever since Ingred went to the hostel, but it had hung fire so long that she had come to regard it as one of those piecrust promises that elder members of a family frequently make, and never find it convenient to carry out. She had reminded Egbert of it at intervals all through the autumn term, then had given it up as "a bad job."
You have plenty of money; but if you were so poor that you could eat nothing but cold mutton, I shouldn't condole with you as to the state of your larder. I should pretend to think that poultry and piecrust were plentiful with you. 'No, you wouldn't, dear not if I were as dear to you as you are to me. 'Well, then, be sorry; and let there be an end of it.
The window of Mahony's room faced a wide view: not a fence, hardly a bit of scrub or a tuft of grass-tree marked the bare expanse of uneven ground, now baked brown as a piecrust by the December sun. He looked across it to the cemetery. This was still wild and unfenced just a patch of rising ground where it was permissible to bury the dead.
"Oh, my dear, don't be too certain," said the gentleman, "Only think if it should be wrong." "She'd never have sent for me, Q., if it wasn't all right," again argued the lady. "She's stiff and hard and proud as piecrust, but I think she's right at bottom." Such was Mrs. Quiverful's verdict about Mrs. Proudie, to which in after times she always adhered.
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