pathetically from the porridge she was stirring over the fire Sally had succeeded in blowing to a splendid glow. The girl sat back upon her heels and stared dreamily into the dancing flames wondering, as usual, about Jerry—how he was faring, what he was doing, what would become of him?
"Tired, Mother—aye, and hungry!" said Zenas. He sank upon the fireside settle to watch his mother.
"Hungry?" repeated Mistress Williams. She looked dubiously from the porridge pot to Zenas. "I know," she went on, her face brightening. "I'll make waffles for ye, Zenas! The very thing! Fetch me the flour bag and two eggs, Sally," she directed, rising to take down the long-handled waffle iron from where it hung beside the Dutch oven door. "And get some butter from the spring house," she added, calling softly after the girl as Sally sprang up and flew to do her bidding.
Soon the big kitchen began to be filled with the appetizing odor of baking waffles, and the pile of golden, fluffy things began to tower upon the platter Mistress Williams had placed in the warming oven before the fire.
"Hast syrup, Ma?" asked Zenas, getting up to draw his three-legged stool to the supper table, which Sally had set. "Waffles be naught without syrup!"
"Aye, some maple syrup which I did save from
