"You certainly are poetic," drawled Bobby, who had come into the Beldings'
big kitchen, too, and was comfortably seated on the end of the table at
which Laura had been rolling out piecrust.

"Now, if that crust is only crisp!" murmured Mother Wit.

"If it isn't," chuckled Chet, stamping the snow off his shoes, "we'll make
you eat it all."

"I'm willing to take the contract of eating it, sight unseen, if Laura made
the pie," interjected Lance Darby, opening the door suddenly.

"Come in! Come in!" cried Jess. "Want to freeze us all?"

"You would better not be so reckless, Lance," Laura said, smiling. "These
are mock cherry pies; and I never do know whether I get sugar enough in
them until they are done. Some cranberries are sourer than others, you
know."

"M-m! Ah!" sighed Chet ecstatically. "If there is one thing I like----"

Lance began to sing-song:

"'There was a young woman named Hooker,
Who wasn't so much of a looker;
But she could build a pie
That would knock out your eye!
So along came a fellow and took 'er!'"