"But that's just what you would do! I know you! Didn't you spend almost
your whole Christmas savin' fund on me and Phil last year?"

"Ach, you talk too much! Let me be, now, I got to boil apple butter."

Philip ran for several boxes and old chairs and put them under a
spreading cherry tree. "We take turns stirrin'," he explained, "so
those that don't stir can take it easy while they wait their turn.
Jiminy Christmas, guess we'll have a regular party to-day. All of us
are in it, and Aunt Rebecca's comin', and Lyman Mertzheimer, and I
guess Martin Landis, and mebbe some of the little Landis ones and the
whole Crow Hill will be here. Here comes Millie with the snitz!"

The pared apples were put into the kettle, then the stirring commenced.
A long wooden stirrer, with a handle ten feet long, was used, the big
handle permitting the stirrer to stand a comfortable distance from the
smoke and fire.

The boiling was well under way when Aunt Rebecca arrived.

"My goodness, Philip," she began as soon as she neared the fire, "you
just stir half! You must do it all around the bottom of the kettle or
the butter'll burn fast till it's done. Here, let me do it once." She
took the handle from his hands and began to stir vigorously.

"Good!" cried the boy. "Now we can roast apples. Here, comes Lyman up
the road, and Martin Landis and the baby. Now we'll have some fun!" He
pointed to the toad, where Martin Landis, a neighbor boy, drew near
with his two-year-old brother on his arm.