292 THE LAND OF PLUCK

ran to “Lizer”; and I rose and walked slowly down the

hall, letting my lips stick out pretty far, so as to feel
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miserable as long as possible.

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“Jump, dearie!” we heard the cheerful voice say to
Gerty, who loved, when nearly at the bottom of the stairs,
to leap into Eliza’s arms. “Jump-a-daisy! doan be afeard!
Ole Lizer ‘11 ketch yer!”

In another moment, Marie and I rushed joyfully into the
kitchen, exclaiming,“ Will you bake us a bogie man, Eliza?
Will you bake us a bogie man ?”

“Course I will, honey; but you muss all be circum-
spectious, now. Can’t hab no fussin’ in dis yere kitchum.”

We were so well accustomed to this command, that it
produced but little effect upon us. I was upon the kitchen
table “as quick as a wink,” and Gerty ran up and down
the well-scrubbed floor, laughing and shouting with delight.
Meanwhile, Eliza moved slowly and steadily about the
large kitchen, from pantry to table, from table to dresser,
her shining brown face beaming with kindness, yet grand
to our eyes with its look of importance; her great plump
form arrayed in a dark calico gown, covered with the
cleanest of check aprons; a bright plaid kerchief tied
about her head; another folded over her bosom. I can
hear her soft, heavy tread yet as it sounded that day while
she placed the sugar, eggs, butter, dishes, and other articles
upon the kitchen table. At last came the white flour-
pail, crowned with a big sieve, and then I knew that my
time to dismount from the table had arrived. Eliza spoke
even while I was scrambling down: “ Get off of dar, Miss

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Lilly ; can’ hab no chillen cumberin’ up dis yere table!’