Presently she drew the iron from the fire, unclamped it, and with
remarkable deftness turned out a nicely-browned waffle into a dish by
her side. She then greased both halves of the pan, filled them with
batter, reclamped the iron and thrust it again into the fire. This she
did several times until the dish was almost filled with
delicious-smelling waffles.

"Guess dey'll suit de Cun'l," she said to herself. "He's mighty fond
of waffles, he shur' is. An' Missie Jean is, too, fo' dat matter. I
wonder what's keepin' dem. Dey's generally on time fo' supper. But,
den, t'ings are so upset dese days dat only de Lo'd knows what's goin'
to happen next."

Then she began to sing in a subdued voice the Twenty-third psalm, the
only piece she knew.

"I hab no doubt about de Lo'd bein' my Shepa'd," she commented, "an' I
guess He'll not let me want. But He hasn't led me into green past'rs
dis time. I wonder if de Good Lo'd made dis place, anyway," and she
gazed ruefully around. "It looks to me as if de deb'l had a mighty big
hand in it, fo' sich a mixed up contraption of a hole I nebber set my
two eyes on befo'. An' to t'ink dat de Cun'l had to leab his nice home
in Ol' Connec., an' come to a jumpin'-off place like dis. I hope de
ever-lastin' fire will be seben times hot when it gits dem skunks dat
stirred up ructions 'ginst good King George, I sa'tinly do."

A slight noise startled her, and turning her head, she smiled as she
saw a girl standing near her side.

"Land sakes! Missie Jean, how yo' did scare me!" she exclaimed. "I