I don't know
what the rest of you ladies'll think."
Abby Daggett stood with clasped hands, her big soft bosom rising and
falling in a sort of ecstasy.
"Why, Phoebe," she said, "it's a real poem! It couldn't be no
han'somer if it had been done right up in heaven!"
She put her arms about Mrs. Solomon Black and kissed her.
"And this ain't all," said Mrs. Black. "Lois Daggett is going to
fetch over a chocolate cake and a batch of crullers for me when she
comes."
Applause greeted this statement.
"Time was," went on Mrs. Black, "and not so long ago, neither, when I
was afraid to spend a cent, for fear of a rainy day that's been long
coming. 'Tain't got here yet; but I can tell you ladies, I got a
lesson from _her_ in generosity I don't mean to forget. 'Spend and be
spent' is my motto from now on; so I didn't grudge the new-laid eggs
I put in that cake, nor yet the sugar, spice nor raisins. There's
three cakes in one--in token of the trinity (I do hope th' won't
nobody think it's wicked t' mention r'ligion in connection with a
cake); the bottom cake was baked in a milk-pan, an' it's a bride's
cake, being made with the whites of fourteen perfec'ly fresh eggs;
the next layer is fruit and spice, as rich as wedding cake ought to
be; the top cake is best of all; and can be lifted right off and
given to Rever'nd an' Mrs. Wesley Elliot.... I guess they'll like to
keep the wedding couple for a souvenir."
A vigorous clapping of hands burst forth.
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