The four Corners

by Amy Ella Blanchard

"Goodness!" cried Nan. "Do see, Mary Lee, if it's fit to eat. I can't, for my hands are all peach juice from cutting up the peaches. Did you hurt yourself, Jack?"

"I hurt my feelings awfully, 'cause I spoiled the cake."

Mary Lee anxiously examined the contents of the parcel. The cake, fortunately, had been sent on a tin plate, which saved it from utter destruction. "It is quite good in places," she declared. "We'll put the mashed pieces underneath."

Nan laughed in spite of fatigue and anxiety. "Then it will match the dish of bacon," she said. "Never mind, Jack, you did your best and we are much obliged to you; the cake will taste good and we girls can eat the flat pieces. Now, are we all ready?"

"I think so," said Mary Lee, nursing her injured thumb. And the flushed and anxious housekeeper arranged her dishes upon the carefully set table.

"It looks beautiful," said Jack.

"I'm glad you thought of the flowers for the middle of the table, Mary Lee," remarked Nan, who was critically examining her board. "Yes, I think it looks very well. Now, I'll go and call them."

The meal went off fairly well in spite of the chunks of bacon and the mashed cake. To be sure, it was rather a solemn affair. Conversation flagged, for both boys and girls felt ill at ease. Nan was covered with confusion when she tasted her biscuits, and was obliged to excuse herself when she suddenly remembered the tomatoes which she had sliced and placed on the ice and when she caught an odor of burning bread. She rescued the last pan of biscuits just in time, only one or two having burned at the bottom.

After supper there was the task of clearing away, and when this was over and the last dish safely put away, it was a tired Nan who sent her sisters off to bed and sat waiting for the boys who had gone out to have a look at the town. There was no hope of seeing Aunt Sarah that night, for the last train was in, and Nan curled herself up in her mother's big chair by the window, feeling quite desperate when she thought of breakfast without the help of either Mitty or Aunt Sarah.