"How many are there of you?"
"O, a lot; but if I do get it, I shall ask for a goat and cart instead. We have plenty of pictures at home, but we are much in need of a goat and cart."
Peter had a peculiar habit, Ethelwyn afterwards told her grandmother, of shaking after she had talked to him awhile, and gurgling down in his throat. She felt sorry for him. "He was prob'ly not feeling well; maybe what Aunt Mandy calls chilling," she said.
She found grandmother making pumpkin pies, for the minister and his wife were coming to dinner the next day. Grandmother was famous for making pumpkin pies, and never allowed any one else to make them.
"It's my grandmother's recipe," she said, and Ethelwyn nearly fell off her chair trying to imagine grandmother's grandmother.
"I shouldn't suppose they would have been discovered then," she said, after a struggle. "Pumpkin pies don't go out of style like clothes, do they, grandmother?"
"Mine never have," said grandmother proudly. "I suppose Mandy never makes pumpkin pies."
"Yes she does, but they don't grow in yellow watermelons; they live in tin cans."
"Pooh!" said grandmother, "they can't hold a candle to these."
"No, but why would they want to?"