"Abody'd think none o' you had breakfast," she said sternly.
"Ach," said Mrs. Reist, "these just taste better because they're
wrapped in mud. I used to do that at home when I was little."
"Well, I never did. They'll get burned yet with their foolin' round the
fire."
Her prophecy came perilously close to fulfilment later in the day.
Amanda, bending near the fire to turn a mud-coated apple, drew too
close to the lurking flames. Her gingham dress was ready fuel for the
fire. Suddenly a streak of flame leaped up the hem of it. Aunt Rebecca
screamed. Lyman cried wildly, "Where's some water?" But before Mrs.
Reist could come to the rescue Martin Landis had caught the frightened
child and thrown her flat into a dense bed of bean vines near by,
smothering the flames.
Then he raised her gently. Much handling of his younger sisters and
brothers had made him adept with frightened children.
"Come, Manda," he said soothingly, "you're not hurt. Just your dress is
burned a little."
"My hand--it's burned, I guess," she faltered.
Again force of habit swayed Martin. He bent over and kissed the few red
marks on her fingers as he often kissed the bumped heads and scratched
fingers of the little Landis children.
"Ach--" Amanda's hand fluttered under the kiss.
Then a realization of what he had done came to the boy. "Why," he
stammered, "I didn't mean--I guess I oughtn't done that--I wasn't
thinking, Manda."
"Ach, Martin, it's all right. You didn't hurt it none." She
misunderstood him. "See, it ain't hurt bad at all. But, Martin, you
scared me when you threw me in that bean patch! But it put the fire
out. You're smart to think of that so quick."
"Oh, yes," Mrs. Reist found her voice, and the color crept back to her
cheeks again. "Martin, I can't thank you enough."
"Um," Lyman said sneeringly, "now I suppose Martin's a hero."
"So he is!" said the little girl with decision. "He saved my life, and
I ain't forgettin' it neither." Then she sat down by her mother's side
and began to play with the baby.
"Well, guess the fun's over," said Lyman. "You went and spoiled it by
catching fire." He went off in sulky mood.
"My goodness," exclaimed Aunt Rebecca, "mebbe now you'll keep away from
this fire once."
Amanda kept away. The fun of the apple-butter boiling was ended for
her. She sat quietly under the tree while Millie and Aunt Rebecca and
Phil took turns at stirring. She watched passively while Millie poured
pounds of sugar into the boiling mass. She even missed the customary
thrill as some of the odorous contents of the kettle were tested and
the verdict came, "It's done!" The thrills of apple-butter boiling were
as nothing to her now. She still felt the wonder of being rescued from
the fire, rescued by a nice boy with a strong arm and a gentle voice--
what if it was only a boy she had known all her life!--her heart
enshrined its first hero that day.