"It's unfortunate," replied Kate, "but perhaps it may turn up."
Poor Ethel took her walk with Patty and Mollie but she was very quiet.
That noon she watched a dinner cooked in the open. Two perpendicular stakes with forked ends had been driven in the ground, while lying horizontally across them was another upon which to hang one or more kettles. Each kettle had an iron hook to place on the cross stake, and from them hung the kettles. A roaring fire had been made. The potatoes were laid in the hot ashes and covered. In one kettle the peas were put. Ethel and Mollie had shelled until their fingers ached.
"Now, girls," said Kate, "someone time those peas. They must not cook longer than three-quarters of an hour, and they must not be covered."
When the salad had been prepared, the bread and butter spread, and the water pitchers filled from the brook it was time to cook the steak.
Four of the girls took forks made from tree branches, placed the steak upon them, and started in. Mollie and Nora in the meanwhile, after draining off nearly all of the water, had put some salt and a little sugar in the peas, adding at the last a large piece of butter, and had placed them in their kettle which stood near the potatoes.
The steak when finished was laid on a large platter and covered plentifully with butter. Then each girl took and opened her potato, and what a potato it was!—so unlike those cooked in an oven. The peas were served in saucers, and the sight of the steak covered with gravy—hot and juicy—made them hungry.
Each sat on the ground with her plate on her lap, and her saucer and glass beside her. They ate up every vestige of food.
"Goodnight!" said Nora. "Shure a dog would starve in this crowd."
After an appetizing salad dressed with a suspicion of garlic and a fine French dressing, came the bread pudding made by Sallie Davis. It was filled with raisins and each girl passed her plate twice.