"Now, Midge," said I, triumphant; "open the oven door!"
"Oh! please, ma'am, it's only ten o'clock. You don't want to roast him all day."
Sure enough; I had not thought of that. Our dinner hour was five o'clock; and, for the first time in my life, the idea of time as connected with a roast turkey rose in my head.
"Midge, when does your mother put the turkey in?"
"Oh! not till some time in the afternoon," said Midge, wisely.
"How long does it take a turkey to roast?" said I.
"Oh! a good while," said Midge, confidently, "'cordin' as how large they is."
I turned to my cook-book, and saw that so much time must be given to so many pounds; but I had not the remotest idea how many pounds there were in the turkey. So I set Midge to cleaning the silver, and ran across the way, to get light of Miss Dorcas.
How thankful I was for the neighborly running-in terms on which I stood with my old ladies; it stood me in good stead in this time of need. I ran in at the back door and found Miss Dorcas in her kitchen, presiding over some special Eleusinian mysteries in the way of preserves. The good soul had on a morning-cap calculated to strike terror into an inexperienced beholder, but her face beamed with benignity, and she entered into the situation at once.