"I like Tom, don't you, Mother?" asked Sue, as she put on a long ap.r.o.n in readiness to bake her pie.

"Yes, he seems like a nice boy. But it's very queer that the hermit should stick needles into him."

"But they weren't _real_ needles," said Sue. "He never could see them.

He only felt them. They must have been fairy needles, for Tom could never see them being pulled out, either."

"Well, we'll let your father look after that," said Mrs. Brown. "Now we'll bake your pie and I'll make the pudding and cake I have to get ready for the Sunday dinner."

Whenever Mrs. Brown baked she always let Sue do something--make a patty-cake, a little pie with some of the left-over crust from a big one, or, perhaps, bake a pan of cookies. Mrs. Brown would let Susie use some of the dough or pie crust already made up, or she would stand beside her little girl and tell her what to do.

To-day Mrs. Brown did a little of both. She, herself, baked several pies, as well as two cakes, and as there was plenty of pie crust left Mrs. Brown told Sue how to roll some out in a smooth, thin sheet, and lay it over a tin.

"The next thing to do," said Mrs. Brown, "is to put the mince-meat in on the bottom-crust, put another sheet of pie crust on top, cut some holes in it so the steam can get out, trim off the edges, nice and smooth, and set the pie in the oven.

"Roll out your top pie crust and you'll find the mince-meat in a gla.s.s jar in the cupboard, next to a jar of peaches. And don't forget to cut holes in your top crust."

Sue started to do all this. Just then, a neighboring farmer's wife called at the tent, with fresh eggs to sell, and, as she needed some, Mrs. Brown went to see about buying a dozen.

"Go on with your pie, Sue," she called. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Let me see," said the little girl to herself. "I have the bottom crust in the tin, the top crust is all rolled out, and now I need the mince-meat. I'll get it."

From a gla.s.s jar which she brought from the cupboard, next to a jar of peaches, Sue poured very carefully into the bottom crust some dark stuff that had a most delicious spicy odor.

"Um-m, that mince-meat is good and strong!" said Sue. "Daddy will be sure to love it."

She spread out the filling evenly and then put on the top crust with the little holes cut in to let out the steam when the pie should be baking in the oven.

Just as Sue was finishing tr.i.m.m.i.n.g off what, was left over of the crust, Mrs. Brown came back from buying the eggs.

"Oh, you have your pie finished!" exclaimed Sue's mother. "You got ahead of me. Well, I'll put it in the oven for you, as you might burn yourself. And then I'll get on with _my_ baking."

"And I really made this pie all my own self; didn't I?" asked Sue, eagerly.

"Indeed you did, all but making the crust. And you'll soon be able to do that," said her mother. "Now we must finish our baking."

The afternoon pa.s.sed very quickly for Sue and her mother, but just as the last cookies, which Sue helped to make, were taken out of the oven, a lovely brown, and smelling so delicious, Bunny, his father and Tom came back from their fishing trip.

"Is the pie baked, Sue?" asked Bunny, who was tired, hungry and dirty.

"There are certainly pies baked, and other things too, if my nose can smell anything!" cried Daddy Brown. "Now then we'll clean the fish and have them for supper."

"Please let me clean them," said Tom. "I used to work for a fish man and I know how to do it quick."

"That isn't the only thing you can do quickly," said Mr. Brown, with a smile. "The way you caught that fish which got loose from Bunny's hook to-day showed how quick you were."

"Oh, I've done that before," said the tall lad with a laugh. "I like to fish."

"And he's very good at it," said Mr. Brown to his wife as he and Bunny began to wash. "He took me to a number of quiet coves, and we got some big fish. Bunny caught the prize of the day, and it would have got loose from its hook if Tom had not slipped a net under it in time. Bunny was delighted."

"I'm glad of that. But what about this boy? Are we going to keep him with us?"

"I think so, for a while. He'll be useful about the camp, now that I have to be away so much. And, too, he's perfectly safe with the children. He'll look well after them. Besides I want to look into this queer story he tells about the hermit Bixby and the needles."

"Do you think there is anything in it?"

"Well, there may be--and something queer, too. I want to find out what it is. Tom can sleep in that little extra tent we brought. Now how is supper coming on? Can I help?"

"No, I think Uncle Tad has done everything but clean the fish, and----

"Here comes Tom with them now," said Mrs. Brown. "And you must be sure to speak of Sue's pie."

"I will. That little girl is getting to be a regular housekeeper. She'll soon have your place," and Mr. Brown shook his finger at his wife.

Tom brought up the cleaned and washed fish. Mrs. Brown dried them in old towels, dipped them in batter and soon they were frying in the pan. By this time the cakes and pies were set out, and in a little while supper was ready.

And how good those freshly caught fish tasted! Bunny declared his was the best, and really it did seem so, for it was a splendid ba.s.s.

"And now for my pie," said Sue, as Mrs. Brown set it on the table. "I want you all to have some, and a big piece for Tom, 'cause he saved Bunny's fish."

Mrs. Brown cut the pie and pa.s.sed it around. As she did so she looked carefully at the pie and the pieces.

"Isn't there enough, Mother?" asked Sue, anxiously.

"Oh, yes. But I was just thinking----"

At that moment Bunny, who had taken rather a large bite, cried:

"What kind of pie did you say this was, Sue?"

"Mince, of course."

"It tastes more like spiced pickles to me. Doesn't it to you, Tom?"

"Oh, I don't know. It tastes lots better than the pie we got to the poorhouse. I can tell you that!"

Mr. Brown, who had tasted his piece, made a funny face.

"Are you sure you put enough sugar in?" he asked Sue.

"You don't have to put sugar in mince-meat--it's already in," answered his little girl.

Mrs. Brown took a taste of Sue's pie. She, too, made a funny face, and then she asked: "Where did you get the jar of mince-meat, Sue?"

"From the cupboard where you told me, Momsie, next to the gla.s.s jar of peaches."

"On which side of the jar of peaches?"

"Let me see--it was the side I write my letters with--my right hand, Mother."