Amanda had always loved Mrs. Landis and spent many hours in her home,
attracted by the baby--there always was one, either in arms or just
wobbling about on chubby little legs.

"Now ain't it nice of your mom to send us that new apple butter! And
for you to pick the flowers for me! Sattie for both. I say still that
the wild flowers beat the ones on the garden beds. And how pretty you
fixed them!"

"Mom, Mom," whispered little Henry, "dare I smear me a piece of bread?"

"Yes, if you don't make crumbs."

"Oh, Mom," cried Mary Landis, who came running in from the yard. "What
d'you think? Manda left her green parasol out by the front gate and
Henry's chewed the handle off of it!"

"Chewed the handle off a parasol--what--how?" said the surprised
mother.

Amanda laughed. "But don't you worry about it, Mrs. Landis," she said,
"for it was a rhubarb parasol."

"Oh!" A merry laugh followed the announcement about the edible parasol
handle and Mrs. Landis went back to spreading thick slices of bread
with apple butter while three pairs of eager hands were reaching out to
her.

A tiny wail which soon grew in volume sounded from a room in the front
of the house.