‘There never was a goose so gray but sometime soon or late
Some honest gander came her way and took her for his mate!’
A woman cannot ever be sure of not being married till she is buried, Mrs. Doctor, dear, and meanwhile I will make a batch of cherry pies. I notice the doctor favors ’em, and I do like cooking for a man who appreciates his victuals.”
Miss Cornelia dropped in that afternoon, puffing a little.
“I don’t mind the world or the devil much, but the flesh does rather bother me,” she admitted. “You always look as cool as a cucumber, Anne, dearie. Do I smell cherry pie? If I do, ask me to stay to tea. Haven’t tasted a cherry pie this summer. My cherries have all been stolen by those scamps of Gilman boys from the Glen.”
“Now, now, Cornelia,” remonstrated Captain Jim, who had been reading a sea novel in a corner of the living room, “you shouldn’t say that about those two poor, motherless Gilman boys, unless you’ve got certain proof. Jest because their father ain’t none too honest isn’t any reason for calling them thieves. It’s more likely it’s been the robins took your cherries. They’re turrible thick this year.”
“Robins!” said Miss Cornelia disdainfully. “Humph! Two-legged robins, believe me!”
