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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Night, Baby," he said and fell asleep. Willow brought home strawberries and made a shortcake. "Real whipped cream," Amber said. "Of course." Willow reached into the refrigerator. "Trumpet flourish, please." "Ta da, teedle-oop tee tooo," Amber obliged. "Champagne?" "A modest vintage, as AhnRee would say. I celebrate. We celebrate." "You got laid that's obvious." Willow poured two glasses.
"Well, I don't b'lieve it will ever happen that we do get a shortcake, any more than we had a chicken pie," said Polly, turning away with a sigh. "Why, you had your chicken pie, Polly," cried Joel, "only 'twas a goose." "Old gray goose!" said Polly, scornfully. "It was trimmed with a posy, though, and that was nice, wasn't it, Mammy?" brightening up. "Yes, indeed," cried Mrs.
"We'll come to Tom's dinner party, provided he has luncheon with us," stipulated Grace. "It's almost noon now. Mrs. Elwood will have luncheon ready at one. You'd better come with us, Tom. We are going to have strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, for dessert." "You couldn't lose me," asserted Tom with slangy emphasis. "Shall I go on ahead and telephone for a car, Aunt Rose?"
It was not until both of them were safely on the road to the village, and the house had assumed its customary calm that Lucy arrived, her hair tumbled by the wind and her eyes glowing like stars. "I've got your berries, Aunt Ellen," she said, holding aloft a pail heaped with fruit. "See what beauties they are! You shall have a royal shortcake."
The case is not so with humbler livers on the earth's surface. Sympathy and affection and tender ministry are wrought into the very pie-crust, and glow in the brown loaves as they come out of the oven; and are specially seen in the shortcake for tea, and the favourite dish at dinner, and the unexpected dumpling.
"Neither one, little brown-eyes, I'm going out in the orchard to pick a few peaches. Grandma wants to make a peach shortcake for supper. So I have to get the peaches." "Oh, may we come?" asked Sue, dropping the doll with which she had been playing. "I'll help you pick the peaches," offered Bunny, and he put down some sticks, a hammer and nails.
"Who is talking?" came from across the hallway, in Mr. Bobbsey's voice. "I'm talking, papa," answered Bert. He ran to the doorway of his parents' bedchamber. "I've just found out who the ghost is," he continued. "The ghost?" Mr. Bobbsey leaped up. "Where is it?" "In bed now. It was Freddie, walking in his sleep. He was asking for another piece of strawberry shortcake."
Shortcake; "his brother neer brought me ony wild-deukes, and this is a douce honest man; we serve the family wi' bread, and he settles wi' huz ilka week only he was in an unco kippage when we sent him a book instead o' the nick-sticks,* whilk, he said, were the true ancient way o' counting between tradesmen and customers; and sae they are, nae doubt." "But look here, lasses," interrupted Mrs.
Finally, one evening just before dinner, she went to the 'phone and called up the college. It happened that she caught Howard just as he was going down to dinner. She told him they were homesick for him and there was roast lamb and green peas and strawberry shortcake for dinner, wouldn't he come? He came. Who could refuse Julia Cloud?
The shortcake is mode like very short, soft biscuit and baked in a round tin in a quick oven. When it is done, split it, sprinkle sugar over the prepared oranges, put a layer on the under crust, replace the upper part, upon which put more of the prepared oranges and serve at once with cream. From MRS. MARGARET M. RATCLIFFE, of Arkansas, Alternate Lady Manager.
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