"Yes, that's all right. Start the potatoes once, Martin. Now you must
eat, Amanda. Just make yourself right at home."
"Martin, you must eat hearty, too,", said the father. "Your mom made
this supper for you."
"For me? What's the idea? Feeding the prodigal? Fatted calf and all
that, Mother?" the boy asked, smiling, "Calf--nothing!" exclaimed little Charlie. "It's them two roosters Mom
said long a'ready she's goin' to kill once and cook and here they are!"
Charlie wondered why everybody laughed at that but he soon forgot about
it as his mother handed him a plate piled high with food.
Amanda scarcely knew what she was eating that day. Each mouthful had
the taste of nectar and ambrosia to her. If she could _belong_ to
a family like that! She adored her own people and felt certain that no
one could wish for a finer family than the one in which she had been
placed, but it seemed, by comparison with the Landis one, a very small,
quiet family. She wished she could be a part of both, make the twelfth
in that charming circle in which she sat that day.
After supper Mrs. Landis turned to Amanda--"Now you stay a while and
hear our new pieces on the Victrola."
"I'll help you with the dishes," she offered.
"Ach, no, it ain't necessary. Mary and I will get them done up in no
time. You just go in the room and enjoy yourself."
With little Katie leading the way and Martin following Amanda went to
the sitting-room and sat down while Martin opened the Victrola.
"What do you like?" he asked. "Something lively? Or do you like soft
music better?"
"I like both. What are your new pieces?"
"McCormack singing 'Mother Machree---'"
"Oh, I like that! Play that!"
As the soft, haunting melody of "Mother Machree" sounded in the room
Mrs. Landis came to the door of the sitting-room, dish towel in hand.
"Ach," she said after the last verse, "I got that record most wore out
a'ready. Ain't it the prettiest song? When I hear that I think still
that if only one of my nine children feels that way about me I'm more
than paid for any bother I had with them."
"Then, Mother," said Martin, "you should feel more than nine times
paid, for we all feel that way about you."
"Listen, now!" The mother's eyes were misty as she looked at her first-
born. "Ach, play it again. I only hope poor Becky knows how much good
her money's doin' us!"
Later Martin walked with Amanda up the moonlit road to her home. "I've
had a lovely time, Martin," she told him. "You do have the nicest,
lively family! I wish we had a tableful like that!"