I had been little
while seated before the kitchen fire of pine knots before I
felt that I was in the midst of a circle of personal friends;
and I feel it now, as I look back and remember them. They
would have done much for me, every one.
Meanwhile Maria beat and mixed and stirred the things in her
wooden bowl; and by and by ladled out a glassful of rich-
looking, yellow, creamy froth — I did not know what it was,
only it looked beautiful — and presented it to me.
"Miss Daisy mus' tell Mis' Felissy Maria haint forgot how to
make it — 'spect she haint, anyhow. Dat's for Miss Daisy's
Christmas."
"It's very nice!" I said.
"Reckon it is," was the capable answer.
"Won't you give everybody some, Maria?" For Jem had gone up
stairs with a tray of glasses, and Maria seemed to be resting
upon her labours.
"Dere'll come down orders for mo', chile; and 'spose I gives
it to de company, what'll Mis' Lisa do wid Maria? I have de
'sponsibility of Christmas."
"But you can make some more," I said, holding my glass in
waiting.
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