the Wileys', and much of this praise was earned by Rose's
serving. It was the old grandmother who burnished the tin plates
and dippers till they looked like silver; for crotchety and
sharp-tongued as she was--she never allowed Rose to spoil her
hands with soft soap and sand: but it was Rose who planned and
packed, Rose who hemmed squares of old white tablecloths and
sheets to line the baskets and keep things daintily separate,
Rose, also, whose tarts and cakes were the pride and admiration
of church sociables and sewing societies.

Where could such smoking pots of beans be found? A murmur of
ecstatic approval ran through the crowd when the covers were
removed. Pieces of sweet home-fed pork glistened like varnished
mahogany on the top of the beans, and underneath were such deeps
of fragrant juice as come only from slow fires and long, quiet
hours in brick ovens. Who else could steam and bake such mealy
leaves of brown bread, brown as plum-pudding, yet with no
suspicion of sogginess? Who such soda-biscuits, big, feathery,
tasting of cream, and hardly needing butter? And green-apple
pies! Could such candied lower crusts be found elsewhere,or more
delectable filling? Or such rich, nutty doughnuts?--doughnuts
that had spurned the hot fat which is the ruin of so many, and
risen from its waves like golden-brown Venuses.

"By the great seleckmen!" ejaculated Jed Towle, as he swallowed
his fourth, "I'd like to hev a wife, two daughters, and four
sisters like them Wileys, and jest set still on the river-bank
an' hev 'em cook victuals for me. I'd hev nothin' to wish for
then but a mouth as big as the Saco's."