"The herbs!" cried the old man. "The lard and salt!" cried the young ones. And they all set to work chopping, cutting, piling up, while Louise, stamping with excitement, called out, "Make haste! make haste!" Then there was a tremendous bubbling in the pan, and the great work began. We were all round the fire, gazing with an anxious interest inspired by our all having had a finger in the pie.
The old woman, on her knees beside a large dish, slipped a knife under the edge of the omelette, which was turning a fine brown. "Now, madame, you've only got to turn it over," she said.
"Just one little quick blow," suggested the old man.
"Mustn't be violent," counseled the young one.
"All at once; tip with it, dear!" I said.
"If you all talk at once—"
"Make haste, madame!"
"If you all talk at once I never shall manage it. It is too awfully heavy."
"One quick little blow."
"But I can't; it's going over. Oh gracious!"