if I don't ever have anythin' to eat," spoke up Jerome.

His mother flashed her black eyes round at him. "Don't you be saucy,
Jerome Edwards," said she, "or you'll go back to your spadin' without
a mouthful! I told your sister she was goin', an' I don't want any
words about it from either of you."

When Elmira returned with her mother's red cashmere shawl pinned
carefully over her childish shoulders, with her sharply pretty,
hungry-eyed little face peering meekly out of the green gloom of the
great pumpkin hood, Mrs. Edwards gave her orders. "There," said she,
"you take this bowl, an' you be real careful and don't let it fall
and break it, nor slop the stew over my best shawl, an' you carry it
down the road to Doctor Prescott's; an' whoever comes to the door,
whether it's the hired girl, or Lawrence, or the hired man, you ask
to see Mis' Doctor Prescott. Don't you give this bowl to none of the
others, you mind. An' when Mis' Doctor Prescott comes, you courtesy
an' say, 'Good-mornin', Mis' Prescott. Mis' Abel Edwards sends you
her compliments, and hopes you're enjoyin' good health, an' begs
you'll accept this bowl of parsnip stew. She thought perhaps you
hadn't had any this season.'"

Mrs. Edwards repeated the speech in a little, fine, mincing voice,
presumably the one which Elmira was to use. "Can you remember that?"
she asked, sharply, in her natural tone.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Say it over."