AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Now came the best part of the churning. Ma molded the butter. On the loose bottom of the wooden butter-mold was carved the picture of a strawberry with two strawberry leaves.
With the paddle Ma packed butter tightly into the mold until it was full. Then she turned it upside-down over a plate, and pushed on the handle of the loose bottom. The little, firm pat of golden butter came out, with the strawberry and its leaves molded on the top.
Laura and Mary watched, breathless, one on each side of Ma, while the golden little butter-pats, each with its strawberry on the top, dropped on to the plate as Ma put all the butter through the mold. Then Ma gave them each a drink of good, fresh buttermilk.
On Saturdays, when Ma made the bread, they each had a little piece of dough to make into a little loaf. They might have a bit of cookie dough, too, to make little cookies, and once Laura even made a pie in her patty-pan.
After the day’s work was done, Ma sometimes cut paper dolls for them. She cut the dolls out of stiff white paper, and drew the faces with a pencil. Then from bits of colored paper she cut dresses and hats, ribbons and laces, so that Laura and Mary could dress their dolls beautifully.
But the best time of all was at night, when Pa came home.
He would come in from his tramping through the snowy woods with tiny icicles hanging on the ends of his mustaches. He would hang his gun on the wall over the door, throw off his fur cap and coat and mittens, and call: “Where’s my little half-pint of sweet cider half drunk up?”
That was Laura, because she was so small.
Laura and Mary would run to climb on his knees and sit there while he warmed himself by the fire. Then he would put on his coat and cap and mittens again and go out to do the chores and bring in plenty of wood for the fire.
Sometimes, when Pa had walked his trap-lines quickly because the traps were empty, or when he had got some game sooner than usual, he would come home early. Then he would have time to play with Laura and Mary.
One game they loved was called mad dog. Pa would run his fingers through his thick, brown hair, standing it all up on end. Then he dropped on all fours and, growling, he chased Laura and Mary all around the room, trying to get them cornered where they couldn’t get away.
They were quick at dodging and running, but once he caught them against the woodbox, behind the stove. They couldn’t get past Pa, and there was no other way out.
&nb
sp; Then Pa growled so terribly, his hair was so wild and his eyes so fierce that it all seemed real. Mary was so frightened that she could not move. But as Pa came nearer Laura screamed, and with a wild leap and a scramble she went over the woodbox, dragging Mary with her.
And at once there was no mad dog at all. There was only Pa standing there with his blue eyes shining, looking at Laura.
“Well!” he said to her. “You’re only a little half-pint of cider half drunk up, but by Jinks! you’re as strong as a little French horse!”
“You shouldn’t frighten the children so, Charles,” Ma said. “Look how big their eyes are.”
Pa looked, and then he took down his fiddle. He began to play and sing.
“Yankee Doodle went to town, He wore his striped trousies, He swore he couldn’t see the town, There was so many houses.”
Laura and Mary forgot all about the mad dog.
“And there he saw some great big guns,
Big as a log of maple,
And every time they turned em round,
It took two yoke of cattle.
“And every time they fired em off,
It took a horn of powder,
It made a noise like father’s gun,
Only a nation louder.”
Pa was keeping time with his foot, and Laura clapped her hands to the music when he sang,
“And I’ll sing Yankee Doodle-de-do,
