“Oh, I never was so tired,” she sighed, when at last it had boiled long enough and she shoved it back.
“Let’s all go out on the river,” proposed Nyoda, “and forget our toil for awhile.” Sahwah was the last out of the kitchen, having stopped to drink a glass of water, and while she was drinking her eye roved over the table and caught sight of half a dozen cloves that had spilled out of a box. Gathering them up in her hand she dropped them into the ketchup. Just then Migwan came back for something and the two went out together.
“And now for the bottling,” said Migwan, when the supper dishes were put away, and she set several dozen shining glass bottles on the table. After she had been dipping up the ketchup for awhile she paused in her work to sit down for a few moments and count up her expected profits. “Let’s see,” she said, “forty bottles at fifteen cents a bottle is six dollars. That isn’t so bad for one day’s work. But I hope I don’t have many days of such work,” she added. “My back is about broken with stirring.” About thirty of the bottles were filled and sealed when she took this little breathing spell.
“Let me have a taste,” said Hinpoha, eyeing the brown mixture longingly.
“Help yourself,” said Migwan. Hinpoha took a spoonful. Her face drew up into the most frightful puckers. Running to the sink she took a hasty drink of water. “What’s the matter?” said Migwan, viewing her in alarm. “Did you choke on it?”
“Taste it!” cried Hinpoha. “It’s as bitter as gall.”
Migwan took a taste of the ketchup and looked fit to drop. “Whatever is the matter with it?” she gasped. One after another the girls tasted it and voiced their mystification. “It couldn’t have spoiled in that short time,” said Migwan.
Then she suddenly remembered having seen Sahwah drop something into the kettle as it stood on the back of the stove. Could it be possible that Sahwah was seeking revenge for having been made fun of? “Sahwah,” she gasped, unbelievingly, “did you put anything into the ketchup that made it bitter?”
“I did not,” said Sahwah, the indignant color flaming into her face. She had already forgotten the incident of the cloves. She saw Nyoda and the other girls look at her in surprise at Migwan’s words. Her temper rose to the boiling point. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, fiercely. “You think I did something to the ketchup to get even with Migwan, but I didn’t, so there. I don’t know any more about it than you do.”
“I take it all back,” said Migwan, alarmed at the tempest she had set astir, and bursting into tears buried her head on her arms on the kitchen table. All that work gone for nothing!