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Updated: May 3, 2025
If ever there was a battery that looked for trouble and got it it was Battery B! But we took good care of our commissary sergeant did I mention he was a splendid young man named Orr? and though we dropped a good many numbers, wounded, dead, sick, and missing we kep' up the good name of the battery and had canned butter and pop-overs nearly every day.
At the lower end, in an open space of slightly rising ground, there is an ancient farmhouse which has been extended and piazzaed and made into a rustic place of entertainment. Here the fashionable summer-folk of the various harbours come to drink afternoon tea and to eat famous dinners of broiled chicken, baked potatoes, and pop-overs.
Her resources were limited, to be sure, but Molly improvised a breakfast out of them that a king would not have scorned. There were pop-overs done to a golden brown, a perfect little omelet, bacon crisp enough to please the most fastidious palate and an old champagne glass, the spoils of some festive occasion, filled with iced orange juice. The coffee was strong and fragrant.
"You were moaning and groaning in your sleep," she said, in the strident accents of her New England birthplace, "so you'll have to drink this before I give you a living thing for your breakfast." "I will, Hitty," Nancy said, "and thank you kindly. Now I know you've been making pop-overs, and are afraid they will disagree with me. I'm glad for I need the moral effect of them."
It may also be baked an hour in a buttered pudding-dish. Serve at once, when done, with a liquid sauce. Are merely puffs or pop-overs eaten with sauce. See p. 209. One cup of dried and rolled bread-crumbs, or one pint of fresh ones; one quart of milk; two eggs; one cup of sugar; half a teaspoonful of cinnamon; a little grated nutmeg; a saltspoonful of salt.
"They be pop-overs, sir, if I'm not misthaken." "Pop-overs, ahem! I've heard the name before." He sniffed the small coffee pot. "Good and strong; you've anticipated my wants this morning, Mrs. Brady." "Why doesn't he go on and eat?" thought the red-haired cook. "The omelet will be ruined." But the Professor had drawn up a chair to the kitchen table and was draining the orange juice at a gulp.
The breakfast table was gay, and Kada beamed. Takasugi had made countless pop-overs Honor's favorites and Kada was slipping in and out with heaping plates of them. "Pop-all-overs" the littlest Lorimer called them, steaming, golden-hearted.
Do you think that the Gypsy and I wept over our lost rod, or were ashamed of our flannel shirts and tweeds, as we sat down to our broiled chickens and pop-overs that evening, on the piazza of the tea-house, among the white frocks and Tuxedo jackets of the diners-out? No, for there was our prize lying in state on the floor beside our table. "And we caught him," said she, "in the gulls' bath-tub!"
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