Amanda: A Daughter of the Mennonites - Page 91/147

"But you stopped crying, you know, before it could do that. Charlie'll

pump water and we'll wash all nice and clean and go in to Mother."

Water from the watering trough in the barn-yard soon effaced the traces

of tears and a happy trio entered the big yard near the house. An older

boy and Katie Landis came running to meet them.

"Oh, Amanda," said Katie, "did you come once! Just at a good time, too!

We're gettin' company for supper and Mom was wishin' you'd come so she

could ask you about settin' the table. We're goin' to eat in the room

to-night,'stead of the kitchen like we do other times. And we're goin'

to have all the good dishes and things out and a bouquet in the middle

of the table when we eat! Ain't that grand? But Pop, he told Mom this

morning that if it's as hot to-night as it was this dinner he won't

wear no coat to eat, not even if the Queen of Sheba comes to our place

for a meal! But I guess he only said that for fun, because, ain't, the

Queen of Sheba was the one in the Bible that came to visit Solomon?"

"Yes."

"Well, she ain't comin' to us, anyhow. It's that Isabel from Lancaster,

Martin's girl, that's comin'."

"Oh!" Amanda halted on her way across the lawn. "What time is she

coming?" she asked in panicky way, as though she would flee before the

visitor arrived.

"Ach, not for long yet! We don't eat till after five. Martin brings her

on the trolley with him when he comes home from the bank."

"Then I'll go in to see your mother a while." A great uneasiness

clutched at the girl's heart. Why had she come on that day?

But Mrs. Landis was glad to see her. "Well, Amanda," she called through

the kitchen screen, "you're just the person I said I wished would come.

Come right in.

"Come in the room a while where it's cool," she invited as Amanda and

several of the children entered the kitchen. "I'm hot through and

through! I just got a short cake mixed and in the stove. Now I got

nothin' special to do till it's done. I make the old kind yet, the

biscuit dough. Does your mom, too?"

"Yes."

"Ach, it's better, too, than this sweet kind some people make. I split

it and put a lot of strawberries on it and we eat it with cream."

"Um, Mom," said little Charlie, "you make my mouth water still when you

talk about good things like that. I wish it was supper-time a'ready."

"And you lookin' like that!" laughed the mother, pointing to his bare

brown legs and feet and his suit that bore evidence of accidental

meetings with grass and ground.