said her mother, "but he can't make pies without short'nin' nohow."

Cephas came out of the pantry with a large bowl of flour and a spoon.
"He 'ain't sifted it," Mrs. Barnard whispered to Charlotte, as though
Cephas were not there; then she turned to him. "You sifted the flour,
didn't you, Cephas?" said she.

"You jest let me alone," said Cephas, grimly. "I'm goin' to make
these pies, an' I don't need any help. I've picked the sorrel, an'
I've got the brick oven all heated, an' I know what I want to do, an'
I'm goin' to do it!"

"I've got some pumpkin that would make full as good pies as sorrel,
Cephas. Mebbe the sorrel will be real good. I ain't sayin' it won't,
though I never heard of sorrel pies; but you know pumpkin is good,
Cephas."

"I know pumpkin pies have milk in 'em," said Cephas; "an' I tell you
I ain't goin' to have anything of an animal nature in 'em. I've been
studyin' into it, an' thinkin' of it, an' I've made up my mind that
I've made a mistake along back, an' we've ate too much animal food.
We've ate a whole pig an' half a beef critter this winter, to say
nothin' of eggs an' milk, that are jest as much animal as meat,
accordin' to my way of thinkin'. I've reasoned it out all along that
as long as we were animals ourselves, an' wanted to strengthen
animal, that it was common-sense that we ought to eat animal. It
seemed to me that nature had so ordered it. I reasoned it out that
other animals besides man lived on animals, except cows, an' they,
bein' ruminatin' animals, ain't to be compared to men--"