“And some take care of it both ways, eh?”
“Yes’m, that’s me,” quoth Lon, quite unabashed. “’Specially when it comes to Sugar Valley mince pies,” he added gallantly.
It was a deserved tribute. Every boy at the table was ready to vow that never had there been another mince pie to match the toothsome marvel of Sugar Valley cookery, composed and baked for the honor and delectation of Sam Parker and his friends.
CHAPTER XII
EXPLORING THE VALLEY
Probably everybody notices, from time to time, how things which would seem to be trifling in themselves bring about results which are anything but trifling. Paul Varley’s interest in sugar making was to prove a case in point.
If Varley had not been with the Safety First Club that day, it is altogether likely that the trip to the maple groves would have been omitted. The big dinner, with Sam’s wonderful mince pie as its climax, left the Grants’ guests very well pleased with the world in general but not at all disposed to exertion, especially as the weather showed no improvement. Back in the great living-room the party settled down in a semicircle before the open fireplace, where now a cheery little pile of birch was blazing.
“We’ll have it for company, anyway,” Mrs. Grant explained, as she touched a match to the kindling. “The steam keeps us warm enough—and some to spare—days like this, but I must say I like the sparkle and crackle. Kind of sociable like, ain’t it?”
“Yes’m—makes me think of a lively widow next door!” chuckled Lon.
“Hm-m! Don’t see as you’ve got any call, Lon Gates, to make jokes about widows,” said Mrs. Grant with spirit. “None of ’em’s got you yet.”
“Well, you never can tell, ma’am. I’m young yet.”