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Updated: May 22, 2025
They were out for a drive and stopped off to eat." At this instant the rattling old stage-coach drew up at the gate. The mother and daughter, paying no heed whatever to the sound, went on with their work, Mrs. Hershey looking a shade more grimly determined as she stirred her ponhaus and Lizzie more sulky.
For a moment she could see nothing but red and yellow flowers and whitewashed clam-shells. But as her vision cleared, she perceived her neighbor, Lizzie Hershey, a well-built, healthy-looking country lass of eighteen years, cutting bread at a table, and her mother, a large fat woman wearing the Mennonite dress, standing before a huge kitchen range, stirring "ponhaus" in a caldron.
"But we've got plenty of bacon." "If we've got bacon a-plenty, then get some ponhaus. Or some mush. Hurry up and go, Tillie!" She came to the girl's side and took the rolling-pin from her hands. "And don't hurry back. Set awhile. Now get your things on quick." "But, Aunty Em " "Are you mindin' me, Tillie, or ain't you?" her aunt sharply demanded.
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