"Sure, this is a fine day for me, altogether," said Grannie Malone as
she got out her bit of flour to make the cake. "I can wait for the
letter from himself, the way I know they're in health, and have not
forgotten their old Mother. Troth, we'll have a bit of a feast over it
now," she said to the Twins. "While I'm throwing the cakeen together do
you get some potatoes from the bag, Eileen, and put them down in the
ashes, and you, Larry, stir up the fire a bit, and keep the kettle full.
Sure, 'tis singing away like a bird this instant minute! Put some
water in it, avic, and then shut up the hens for me."
Eileen ran to the potato bag in the corner and took out four good-sized
potatoes. "There's but three of us," she said to herself, "but Larry
will surely be wanting two, himself."
She got down on her knees and buried the potatoes in the burning peat.
Then she took a little broom that stood near by, and tidied up the
hearth.
Larry took the kettle to the well for more water. He slopped a good
deal of it as he came back. It made great spots of mud, for there was
no wooden floor--only hard earth with flat stones set in it.
"Arrah now, Larry, you do be slopping things up the equal of a
thunderstorm," Eileen said to him.
"Never you mind that, now, Larry," said Grannie Malone. "It might have
been that the kettle leaked itself, and no fault of your own at all!
Sure, a bit of water here or there does nobody any harm."
She hung the tea-kettle on the hook over the fire again. Then she
brought the cakeen and put it into a small iron baking-kettle, and put a
cover over it. She put turf on top of the cover. "'Twill not be long
until it's baked," said Grannie, "and you can be watching it, Eileen,
while I set out the table."
She pulled a little wooden table out before the fire, put three plates
and three cups on it, some salt, and the jug of milk. Meanwhile Larry
was out trying to shut the hens into the little shelter beside the
house. But he couldn't get them all in. One old speckled hen ran round
the house to the door. Larry ran after her. The hen flew up on top of
the half-door. She was very much excited. "Cut-cut-cut," she squawked.
"Cut-cut yourself now!" cried Grannie Malone.
She ran toward the door, waving her spoon. "Shoo along out of this with
your bad manners!" she cried.
Just that minute Larry came up behind the hen and tried to catch her by
the legs.
"Cut-cut-cut-a-cut," squawked old Speckle; and up she flew, right over
Grannie's head, into the rafters! Then she tucked herself cozily down
to go to sleep.
"Did you ever see the likes of that old Speckle, now?" cried Grannie
Malone. She ran for the broom. "Sure she must be after thinking I was
lonesome for a bit of company! Do you think I'd be wanting you at all,
you silly, when I have the Twins by me?" she said to the hen. She shook
the broom at her, but old Speckle wasn't a bit afraid of Grannie; she
didn't move.
Then Grannie Malone put the broom under her and tried to lift her from
her perch, but old Speckle had made up her mind to stay. So she flew
across to another rafter, and lit on Grannie Malone's black coat that
she wore to Mass on Sundays. She thought it a pleasant warm place and
sat down again.
"Bad luck to you for an ill-favoured old thief!" screamed Grannie. "Get
off my Sunday cloak with your muddy feet! It's ruined you'll have me
entirely!"
She shook the cloak. Then old Speckle, squawking all the way, flew over
to Grannie's bed! She ran the whole length of it. She left a little
path clear across the patchwork quilt. Larry stood in one corner of the
room waving his arms. Eileen was flapping her apron in another, while
Grannie Malone chased old Speckle with the broom. At last, with a final
squawk, she flew out of the door, and ran round to the shelter where the
other hens were, and went in as if she thought home was the best place
for a hen after all. Larry shut her in.
As soon as the hen was out of the house, Eileen screamed, "I smell
something burning!"
"'Tis the cakeen," cried Grannie.
She and Eileen flew to the fireplace. Eileen got there first. She
knocked the cover off the little kettle with the tongs, and out flew a
cloud of smoke.
"Och, murder! 'Tis destroyed entirely!" poor Grannie groaned.
"I'll turn it quick," said Eileen.
She was in such a hurry she didn't wait for a fork or stick or anything!
She took right hold of the little cakeen, and lifted it out of the
kettle with her hand!
The little cake was hot! "Ow! Ow!" shrieked Eileen, and she dropped it
right into the ashes! Then she danced up and down and sucked her
fingers.
"The Saints help us! The cakeen is bewitched," wailed poor Grannie.
She picked it up, and tossed it from one hand to the other, while she
blew off the ashes.
Then she dropped it, burned side up, into the kettle once more, clapped
on the cover, and set it where it would cook more slowly.
When that was done, she looked at Eileen's fingers. "It's not so bad at
all, mavourneen, praise be to God," she said. "Sure, I thought I had
you killed entirely, the way you screamed!"
"Eileen is always burning herself," said Larry. "Mother says 'tis only
when she's burned up altogether that she'll learn to keep out of the
fire at all!"
"'Twas all the fault of that disgraceful old hen," Grannie Malone said.
"Sure, I'll have to be putting manners on her! She's no notion of
behaviour at all, at all. Reach the sugar bowl, Larry, avic, and sit
down by the table and rest your bones. I'll have the tea ready for you
in a minute. Sit you down, too, Eileen, while I get the potatoes." She
took the tongs and drew out the potatoes, blew off the ashes, and put
them on the table. Then she poured the boiling water over the
tea-leaves, and set the tea to draw, while she took the cakeen from the
kettle.
"'Tis not burned so much, after all," she said, as she looked it over.
"Sure, we can shut our eyes when we eat it."
She drew her own chair up to the table; the Twins sat on the bench on
the other side. Grannie Malone crossed herself, and then they each took
a potato, and broke it open. They put salt on it, poured a little milk
into the skin which they held like a cup, and it was ready to eat.
Grannie poured the tea, and they had milk and sugar in it. The little
cakeen was broken open and buttered, and, "Musha, 'tis fit for the Queen
herself," said Larry, when he had taken his first bite.