to breathe through; pinch the two crusts together, after you have wet
your finger and thumb in cold water. There! now it is ready to go in the
oven."

"O isn't it sweet?" said Ethelwyn. "Nobody can cook like you, Aunty
Stevens. Nobody. I think it's a great--great appomplishment."

"Thank you, dear. Now sit down, and when I have cleaned up things a
little, we'll go out on the west porch, and I am going to tell you
something. I have saved it for a secret for the little girl who couldn't
go to town to-day, but who gave up her birthday presents for the sake of
others."

"O goody," said Ethelwyn, beaming with joy. "Next to cooking, I love to
hear secrets. And would you mind telling me a thing or two, I have been
thinking about lately? I have been meaning to ask mother about it. You
know in church we say we believe in the resurrection of the body. Well,
what do you s'pose," leaning forward impressively--"becomes of the
bodies the cannibals eat?"

"Well, Ethelwyn," said Mrs. Stevens with a gasp. "I suppose it's no
harder than to resurrect them from anywhere else."

"O yes, I should think so," said Ethelwyn earnestly, "because they'd get
dreadfully mixed up in themselves. But never mind. I suppose the Lord
can manage it."

Aunty Stevens and she then went out on the porch that faced the sea.

"O now I'm going to hear the secret," said Ethelwyn, sitting down on the