"It certainly looks very pretty," the doctor said, glancing at the
table.
Sarah groaned. "Where's them plates o' sandwiches gone? I ask you that!
Where's them plates o' biscuits gone? I ask you that! Where's the little
cakes, what I iced so pretty, gone? I ask you that! Ain't I done fix
them all in place and then I goes out to call them--ginham aprons--to
come in,--and I done galivant all over the place and all up and down the
street and I ain't seen the least speck o' one o' them--but when I comes
indoors--the party done vanish! And that ain't all--the cherry pie I
done make for you's and Miss Julia's supper done vanish too. But they
ain't got the ice cream--I reckon the freezer was too heavy."
"That at least is something to be thankful for," the doctor said, "there
would probably have been--consequences--had they secured both the cherry
pie and the ice cream."
"And the table looking so stylish," Sarah mourned, "with the flowers and
all the fixings. Where's that plate o' chicken gone? I ask you that!"
"Patrick," Miss Kirby said, "you really must go look that child up! such
behavior is--"
"I'm going," the doctor assured her, and as he went Miss Kirby saw him
put his handkerchief to his eyes more than once.
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