Tony hurried off, glad to get away from Aunt Cindy and her uncer-
tain moods. It was over an hour, however, before he got started for
Mrs. Philpotts’s; for first he had to indulge himself in repeated climb-
ings and slidings on the fodder-stacks ; then in divers tumblings and
leapings in the straw-pen ; then he “ skinned the cat ” a few dozen
times; then he had a thrilling ride round and round the barnyard,
swinging on old Jack’s tail ; then he made a raid on some blackberry-
bushes in the fence-corner, where he ate berries as long and thick
as his thumb for ten minutes. Then he put a bridle on the old gray
mule, mounted its bare back, and entered upon a course of pullings,
tuggings, and kickings, to the end of making the said mule go forward
to Mrs. Phillpotts’s, instead of backward to its stall, as it seemed de-
termined to do. As all the boy’s thoughts and energies -were thus
engaged, it never occurred to him that he didn’t know what he was
going for, until he stood in Mrs. Phillpotts’s presence, feeling and
looking very foolish. Nothing remained to be done but to remount his
gallant steed, return to Aunt Cindy, and ascertain the nature of the
something he was to borrow from Mrs. Phillpotts. Oh, how he shrunk
from the forthcoming interview with Aunt Cindy 1 Her dreaded hands
doubled in size to his frightened fancy, and his ears seemed to tingle
with the inevitable boxing which Aunt Cindy would be certain to feel
it her duty to administer, because she loved his grandmother.
“ Wish she nebber lubbecl my gran’mammy — wish she hate my
gran’mammy,” Tony whispered to his beating heart, as on went old
Jack at a spanking, bouncing trot, that threatened to unhorse the
rider. It seemed to Tony that no other mule ever trotted so relent-
lessly. He clung desperately to the bridle and the roached mane,
and was trotted on by the merciless brute past the house, through the
barnyard, and into the stable, Tony throwing himself almost under the
belly to save himself from being rubbed off in the low doorway.
140
YEAST.
“ Whyn’t yer spen’ de night at Mis’ Phillpotts’s ? ” Cindy asked,
when he appeared in her presence, his eyes distended and rolling in
frightened anticipation. “ Dat white’s done gone back twict, waitin’
on you’ lazy bones. Nobody but a bawn cook could fotch a poun’-
cake fit fer fou’ puzzidin’ elduz outen sich trib’lations. Don’t yer
know I’s got ter git dinner fer fou’ puzzidin’ elduz ? But, law ! yer
wouldn’t lcere ef dey wus fou’ bishops. What do yer kere ’bout rerli-
gion ? Yer’s so wicked! Gim me that cin’mon-bok, and don’t stan’
dar shilly-shally, like a gobbler on hot tin.” ✪ Yeast
Page 54 · 1 recipe record on this page
Presented as published in 1887. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
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Tony hurried off, glad to get away from Aunt Cindy and her uncer-
tain moods. It was over an hour, however, before he got started for
Mrs. Philpotts’s; for first he had to indulge himself in repeated climb-
ings and slidings on the fodder-stacks ; then in divers tumblings and
leapings in the straw-pen ; then he “ skinned the cat ” a few dozen
times; then he had a thrilling ride round and round the barnyard,
swinging on old Jack’s tail ; then he made a raid on some blackberry-
bushes in the fence-corner, where he ate berries as long and thick
as his thumb for ten minutes. Then he put a bridle on the old gray
mule, mounted its bare back, and entered upon a course of pullings,
tuggings, and kickings, to the end of making the said mule go forward
to Mrs. Phillpotts’s, instead of backward to its stall, as it seemed de-
termined to do. As all the boy’s thoughts and energies -were thus
engaged, it never occurred to him that he didn’t know what he was
going for, until he stood in Mrs. Phillpotts’s presence, feeling and
looking very foolish. Nothing remained to be done but to remount his
gallant steed, return to Aunt Cindy, and ascertain the nature of the
something he was to borrow from Mrs. Phillpotts. Oh, how he shrunk
from the forthcoming interview with Aunt Cindy 1 Her dreaded hands
doubled in size to his frightened fancy, and his ears seemed to tingle
with the inevitable boxing which Aunt Cindy would be certain to feel
it her duty to administer, because she loved his grandmother.
“ Wish she nebber lubbecl my gran’mammy — wish she hate my
gran’mammy,” Tony whispered to his beating heart, as on went old
Jack at a spanking, bouncing trot, that threatened to unhorse the
rider. It seemed to Tony that no other mule ever trotted so relent-
lessly. He clung desperately to the bridle and the roached mane,
and was trotted on by the merciless brute past the house, through the
barnyard, and into the stable, Tony throwing himself almost under the
belly to save himself from being rubbed off in the low doorway.
140
YEAST.
“ Whyn’t yer spen’ de night at Mis’ Phillpotts’s ? ” Cindy asked,
when he appeared in her presence, his eyes distended and rolling in
frightened anticipation. “ Dat white’s done gone back twict, waitin’
on you’ lazy bones. Nobody but a bawn cook could fotch a poun’-
cake fit fer fou’ puzzidin’ elduz outen sich trib’lations. Don’t yer
know I’s got ter git dinner fer fou’ puzzidin’ elduz ? But, law ! yer
wouldn’t lcere ef dey wus fou’ bishops. What do yer kere ’bout rerli-
gion ? Yer’s so wicked! Gim me that cin’mon-bok, and don’t stan’
dar shilly-shally, like a gobbler on hot tin.”