Meanwhile the neighbors had removed bonnets and shawls, and three energetic housekeepers, with the help of Randy and little Prue, succeeded in “keeping things moving,” as Mrs. Jenks had expressed it.
Suddenly, Jotham Potts’s dark face peeped in at the door, with, “Say, Mrs. Weston, I’m a master hand at chopping, so any time I can help, just give me a chopping knife and tray, and I’ll work like a major.”
“I’ll bear ye in mind, and call ye when I want ye,” answered Mrs. Weston, and Prue rushed to the door to offer him a handful of raisins, saying, “I give them to you, Jotham, ’cause you’re the biggest and the nicest boy I know.”
“Thank you, pussy. Hey! where are you now?” and he swung the child lightly up on his shoulder.
“May I go with Jotham ’stead of picking any more raisins?”
“Yes, run along,” said her mother, glad to have her in the care of some one whom she could trust to keep her out of mischief.
So busily did every one work that by Wednesday night the cooking for the spread was completed. Old and young had helped with a will to make the evening a success, and at last Thursday arrived, although Prue confided to Randy that she “b’lieved it never would.”
When the final decorations for the apple-bee were in place, everything needed for the sumptuous spread ready, there was absolutely nothing to do but wait patiently for the evening to come.
The apples were to be cut, cored, and strung in the kitchen, the spread was to be in the “settin’ room,” and all the rooms were decorated so gayly that they appeared festive indeed. Randy had decorated the “best room,” making it gay with branches of autumn leaves, in gorgeous colors, and sprays of scarlet privet berries.
The Babson girls had had a bright idea in regard to trimming the “settin’ room.”