“I don’t know but I would. It was a wedge—a wedge driv’ by that little Day girl. And now she’s flittering about the roads in one of those devil wagons that I am convinced, Brother Middler, was prophesied against in the Book of Daniel.” Here, having reached a more satisfactory subject for discussion, the old Elder spread forth before his ministerial friend the prophetical statements of the great hero of Biblical history anent the automobile craze of the present day.
Janice had helped all afternoon to prepare the feast of the evening, and then waited on table. She did not even go to watch the dancing on the veranda, and she was glad to see that Nelson Haley was not in the crowd at the house. Indeed, she served him at one end of a long table that was about half filled with guests.
“It is too bad, too,” she confided to the teacher, “for that dancing is just ruining the ladies’ chance of making enough money to get new shades for the church parlors. You know that was what they held this lawn fête for.”
“What’s the matter with everybody?” asked Nelson, good-naturedly. “Not that I ever could see the reason for insulting one’s stomach with hot beans and brownbread, and cold cream and cake, even in the most righteous cause.”
“But these are the viands expected,” said Janice, her eyes dancing. “New England combinations of food were a mystery to me when I first came here. And one combination still remains a puzzle.”
“What’s that?” asked Nelson, entering into the spirit of kindly raillery which she had evinced.
“Why, oh, why, do they always serve cheese with pie? It is like the pilot-fish before the shark, or that bird they say always accompanies the rhinoceros; one can never be seen without the other. No housewife in Polktown would serve a piece of pie without putting a slab of cheese on the plate beside it.”
“Good gastronomic reason for it,” declared Nelson, confidently. “As the Frenchman says, ‘Ze cheese, he cor-r-rects ze reechness of heem.’ However, Janice, if you please, you may bring me another helping of beans—I recognize their flavor—they are Mother Beasely’s; and I will have my ice-cream and some of Miss ’Rill’s chocolate cake afterward.”
“I see you like to insult your stomach once in a while, too,” she laughed, as she tripped away to fill his order.
Annette’s dancing exhibition seemed to promise a distinct gain for Janice Day. Nelson did not go near the veranda, but sat and talked with her during her flittings to and fro. There was so much interest shown by the spectators in the music and dancing that the Ladies’ Aid did suffer in pocket and Janice had plenty of time to talk.