"Na-ha," exulted Amanda, with impish delight. "That's one on you. Aunt
Rebecca ain't so dumb like she lets on sometimes."
"Ach, no," Aunt Rebecca said, laughing. "'A blind pig sometimes finds
an acorn, too.'"
Aunt Rebecca's table, though not lavishly laden as are those of most of
the Pennsylvania Dutch, was amply filled with good, substantial food.
The fried sausage was browned just right, the potatoes and lima beans
well-cooked, the cold slaw, with its dash of red peppers, was tasty and
the snitz pie--Uncle Amos's favorite--was thick with cinnamon, its
crust flaky and brown.
After the dishes were washed Aunt Rebecca said, "Now then, we'll go in
the parlor."
"Oh, in the parlor!" exclaimed Amanda. "Why, abody'd think we was
company. You don't often take us in the parlor."
"Ach, well, you won't make no dirt and I just thought to-day, once, I'd
take you in the parlor to sit a while. It don't get used hardly. Wait
till I open the shutters."
She led the way through a little hall to the front room. As she opened
the door a musty odor came to the hall.
"It smells close," said Aunt Rebecca, sniffing. "But it'll be all right
till I get some screens in." She pulled the tasseled cords of the green
shades, opened the slatted shutters, and a flood of summer light
entered the room. "Ach," she said impatiently as she hammered at one
window, "I can hardly get this one open still, it sticks itself so."
But after repeated thumps on the frame she succeeded in raising it and
placing an old-fashioned sliding screen.
"Now sit down and take it good," she invited.
Uncle Amos sank into an old-fashioned rocker with high back and curved
arms, built throughout for the solid comfort of its occupants. Mrs.
Reist chose an old hickory Windsor chair, Aunt Rebecca selected, with a
sigh of relief, a fancy reed rocker, given in exchange for a book of
trading stamps.
"This here's the best chair in the house and it didn't cost a cent,"
she announced as she rocked in it.
Amanda roamed around the room. "I ain't been in here for long. I want
to look around a little. I like these dishes. I wish we had some like
them." She tiptoed before a corner cupboard filled with antiques.
"Ach, yes," her aunt answered, "mebbe it looks funny, ain't, to have a
glass cupboard in the parlor, but I had no other room for it, the house
is so little. If I didn't think so much of them dishes I'd sold them
a'ready. That little glass with the rim round the bottom of it I used
to drink out of it at my granny's house when I was little. Them dark
shiny dishes like copper were Jonas's mom's. And I like to keep the
pewter, too, for abody can't buy it these days."