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Sprowle raised herself, by a sort of spasm, sur son seant, as they say in France, up on end, as we have it in New England. She looked first to the left, then to the right, then straight before her, apparently without seeing anything, and at last slowly settled down, with her two eyes, blank of any particular meaning, directed upon the Colonel. "What time is 't?" she said. "Ten o'clock.
It was awkward for the Colonel. "Permit me," said the Judge, and he took the knife and struck a sharp slanting stroke which sliced off a piece just of the right size, and offered it to Mrs. Sprowle. This act of dexterity was much admired by the company. The tables were all alive again. "Lorindy, here's a plate of ice-cream," said Silas Peckham.
With much coaxing and screwing and pricking, a tolerable illumination was at last achieved. At eight there was a grand rustling of silks, and Mrs. and Miss Sprowle descended from their respective bowers or boudoirs. Of course they were pretty well tired by this time, and very glad to sit down, having the prospect before them of being obliged to stand for hours.
In the remoter apartments every imaginable operation was going on at once, roasting, boiling, baking, beating, rolling, pounding in mortars, frying, freezing; for there was to be ice-cream to-night of domestic manufacture; and in the midst of all these labors, Mrs. Sprowle and Miss Matilda were moving about, directing and helping as they best might, all day long.
Sprowle in to supper?" And the Colonel returned the compliment by offering his arm to Mrs. Judge Thornton. The door of the supper-room was now open, and the company, following the lead of the host and hostess, began to stream into it, until it was pretty well filled. There was an awful kind of pause.
Hezekiah Sprowle, Esquire, Colonel Sprowle of the Commonwealth's Militia, was a retired "merchant."
It was awkward for the Colonel. "Permit me," said the Judge, and he took the knife and struck a sharp slanting stroke which sliced off a piece just of the right size, and offered it to Mrs. Sprowle. This act of dexterity was much admired by the company. The tables were all alive again. "Lorindy, here's a plate of ice-cream," said Silas Peckham.
"Where's all the oranges gone to?" said Mrs. Sprowle. "I expected there'd be ever so many of 'em left. I did n't see many of the folks eatin' oranges. Where's the skins of 'em? There ought to be six dozen orange-skins round on the plates, and there a'n't one dozen. And all the small cakes, too, and all the sugar things that was stuck on the big cakes. Has anybody counted the spoons?
"Where's all the oranges gone to?" said Mrs. Sprowle. "I expected there'd be ever so many of 'em left. I did n't see many of the folks eatin' oranges. Where's the skins of 'em? There ought to be six dozen orange-skins round on the plates, and there a'n't one dozen. And all the small cakes, too, and all the sugar things that was stuck on the big cakes. Has anybody counted the spoons?
Deacon Soper came up presently, and entered into conversation with Colonel Sprowle. "I hope to see our pastor present this evenin'," said the Deacon. "I don't feel quite sure," the Colonel answered. "His dyspepsy has been bad on him lately.
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