Mother Meg Part 14

She did the same with the other half of the dough, then plunged the knife several times to the bottom of the tin, cut it across the top, and put it back on the fender.

"Now, Mrs. Blunt," said Meg, "I judge by my oven whether to leave it there for a quarter of an hour, or whether to put it into the _bottom_ shelf of the oven. If the bottom is not too hot, that's the best place.

Yes, mine is just right; feel what a different heat it is from the top."

"Why do you do that?" asked Mrs. Blunt.

"Because if I put it into the hot part at once it would set the crust of the loaf before it had time to rise, and then the rest would be heavy. I leave it in the bottom just so long as will allow it to begin to rise, about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and then put it into the top, and my baking begins. You had better wait to see that before you go down again."

"I made some porridge, Mrs. Seymour; and what's more they've eat it, and said it's as good as yours."

"Oh, I _am_ glad!" said Meg, heartily. "When they get used to it, you see if they don't say it's _better_ than mine."

Mrs. Blunt laughed at that, but she knew enough of children by this time to guess that Meg was right.

When she was gone down to wash her dishes, Meg sat down on her low chair with the baby, and drew little Pattie to her knee to hear a story. She told them about the Good Shepherd who loves little lambs, and how He gave His life to save the little lambs from being lost.

Pattie's eyes were very wide open, and she listened as long as there was any "story" in Meg's words. Then when she began to grow fidgety Meg got her to learn the one word "Jesus," and after that she sang to them till their mother came back.

"Now I'm going to fetch my mother-in-law," said Meg; "she's coming to have a cup of early tea with us, while the bread is baking. I do not look at it yet, because I want the oven to keep hot, and I know it will not burn yet."

"If the baker bakes my bread for me, I shall be saved all that," said Mrs. Blunt.

"Yes, so you will; and as your loaves will be large it would be a great help, because a baker's oven is such a nice even heat. Still it is nice to know how to do it."

"Oh yes," said Mrs. Blunt. "I did not mean that."

Meg went upstairs.

"Come, mother," she said, "Mrs. Blunt's there, and I'm going to make the tea. It's early to be sure, but you won't mind."

"I must finish these couple of s.h.i.+rts, my dear."

"Then I'll do that," said Meg, "while you make up your fire. I couldn't venture to do _that_ for you, mother; I shouldn't do it right."

Meg laughed as she said that, and Mrs. Seymour laughed too.

Miss Hobson from the inner room called out cheerily: "Well, it's the only thing as she thinks you can't do to her mind anyway."

"Young folks can't have the experience of us old ones," said Mrs.

Seymour. "We can't expect it."

Meg finished the s.h.i.+rts, and then went into the back room to say, "How d'ye do" to her mother-in-law's lodger, while Mrs. Seymour took off her ironing ap.r.o.n, settled her cap aright, and went downstairs.

"I shall bring you a cup of our tea presently," said Meg, "and a bit of bread and b.u.t.ter, so don't settle to sleep yet, Miss Hobson."

"Very well, my dear, I'm glad you told me. Are you going to have a party?"

Meg smiled. "Miss Hobson, I've got a pot of suns.h.i.+ne that won't hold it all, so I'm going to give a little away."

Miss Hobson looked at her curiously, but Meg only nodded and ran off.

Presently Meg allowed Mrs. Blunt to look for a moment with her into the little oven. There were the two loaves brown and crusty, with beautiful white ridges peeping out where the crust had broken, looking the picture of what home-made loaves should be.

"Are they done?" asked Mrs. Blunt.

"Not quite. They are not 'soaked,' as mother would say. If we took them out now they would be wet in the middle."

She quickly shut the oven, looked at her fire, but did not touch it, as she had made it up before the bread went in; and then she turned to her kettle.

"Now boil as soon as you like," she said to it. She spread a cloth, set some teacups, cut some bread and b.u.t.ter, and took out of her cupboard a tin of sardines. "Jem heard what I was going to do, and he brought these home of his own idea; don't you think that was kind of him?" asked Meg.

"That it was," said Mrs. Blunt. "Why, I haven't been out to tea since--not for years."

"Here is the kettle boiling, and here is Pattie's little loaf, just cool enough for her to touch. Come, Pattie, sit on this ha.s.sock on the chair by mother, you'll be high enough then."

They gathered round the table while Meg invited her mother to ask the blessing; then they all began. But before Meg tasted hers she took up a couple of thin slices of bread and b.u.t.ter and a sardine on a little tray, with a nice hot cup of tea.

"Brought up some of the suns.h.i.+ne to me?" said Miss Hobson, smiling.

"Oh, I didn't mean that! But if you saw how thin and, careworn and poor she is----"

"I know it--I've seen her often enough. Meg, wasn't it Jem as said that you did with your might 'whatsoever your hand found to do'?"

"No, he said we ought to."

"It's the same thing with you, I'm thinking."

Meg went back to her tea-party, and by-and-by the bread was done, and came out of the oven looking a picture.

"How do you judge?" asked Mrs. Blunt.

But she need not have spoken, for Meg was tapping it with her knuckles, and when she heard it sound clear and bright on every side, she knew it was baked through.

"There, Mrs. Blunt, one of those is for you; see I will stand it on its top on this shelf to let the steam off, and when you go you shall take it with you. Whenever you like, I'll come down and watch you make one or two batches; that is, if mother does not want me."

So the tea-party ended. Mrs. Blunt had not had such a quiet meal for years. Her face looked brighter and happier as she prepared to go back again. Mrs. Seymour had already returned to her ironing, and Meg was putting the loaf on a plate.

"Would you mind saying that text over again?" asked Mrs. Blunt wistfully.

"That about our burdens?" said Meg.

"She's teached me one," said Pattie. "I 'tan say it--'Jesus,'--that's what she teached me."

"So I did," said Meg, kissing her, "and mother's text means just the same, only longer, because she's big. 'Cast thy burden on the _Lord_, and He shall sustain thee.'"

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