iberality due to the
occasion:

"You can fry what flapjacks you want for yourself, Wahneeny. An' I
don't know as I care if you have a little syrup on 'em to-day--just
for once, so to speak."

However, Wahneenah disdained even the cakes, and the syrup-jug was
deposited in its place with undiminished contents.

"Be you all through, then? Well, Kit, fly 'round. Clear the table like
lightning, an' fetch that butter bowl out the spring, an' see if the
salt's all poun' an' sifted; an' open the draw's an' lay out my
clothes, an'--Dear me! Does seem 's if I should lose my senses with so
much to do an' no decent help, only----"

"Hold on, Mercy! What's the use of rushin' through life 's if you was
tryin' to break your neck?"

"Rushin'! With all that's comin' here to-day!"

"Well, let 'em come. We'll be glad to see 'em. Nobody gladder 'n you
yourself. But you fair take my breath away with your everlastin'
hurry-skurry, clitter-clatter. Don't give a man a chance to even kiss
his little girl good-mornin'. Do you know that, Sunny Maid? Hain't
said a word to your old Daddy yet!"

The child ran to him and fondly flung her arms as far as they would
go around the settler's broad shoulders. It was evident that there was
love and sympathy between these two, though they were to be allowed
short space "for foolin'" that day, and Mercy's call again interrupted
them:

"Come and take this butter down to the brook, Kit, an' wash it all
clean, an' salt it just right--here 'tis measured off--an' make haste.
I do believe you'd ruther stand there lovin' your old Abel--homely
creatur'!--than helpin' me. Yet, when I was a little girl your age, I
could work the butter over fit to beat the queen. Upon my word, I do
declare I see a wagon movin' 'crost the prairie this very minute! Oh!
what shall I do if I ain't ready when they get here!"

Catching at last something of the pleasurable excitement about her,
Kitty lifted the heavy butter-tray and started for the stream. The
butter was just fine and firm enough to tempt her fingers into a bit
of modelling, such as she had picked up for herself; and very speedily
she had arranged a row of miniature fruits and acorns, and was just
attempting to copy a flower which grew by the bank when Wahneenah's
voice, close at hand, warned her:

"Come, Girl-Child. The white mistress is in haste this morning. It is
better to carry back the butter in a lump than to make even such
pretty things and risk a scoldi