Louisa May Alcott by Louisa May Alcott

Author:Louisa May Alcott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Library of America
Published: 2014-04-02T00:00:00+00:00

UNCLE ALEC COULD NOT RESIST PEEPING IN AT THE DOOR.

“Ain’t it just lovely, sir?”

“It is a regularly splendid loaf! Did my girl make it all herself?” he asked, surveying the shapely, sweet-smelling object, with real interest and pleasure.

“Every particle herself, and never asked a bit of help or advice from any one,” answered Aunt Plenty, folding her hands with an air of unmitigated satisfaction, for her pupil certainly did her great credit.

“I’ve had so many failures and troubles that I really thought I never should be able to do it alone. Dolly let one splendid batch burn up because I forgot it. She was there and smelt it, but never did a thing, for she said, when I undertook to bake bread I must give my whole mind to it. Wasn’t it hard? She might have called me at least,” said Rose, recollecting, with a sigh, the anguish of that moment.

“She meant you should learn by experience, as Rosamond did in that little affair of the purple jar, you remember.”

“I always thought it very unfair in her mother not to warn the poor thing a little bit; and she was regularly mean when Rosamond asked for a bowl to put the purple stuff in, and she said, in such a provoking way, ‘I did not agree to lend you a bowl, but I will, my dear.’ Ugh! I always want to shake that hateful woman, though she was a moral mamma.”

“Never mind her now, but tell me all about my loaf,” said Dr. Alec, much amused at Rose’s burst of indignation.

“There’s nothing to tell, uncle, except that I did my best, gave my mind to it, and sat watching over it all the while it was in the oven till I was quite baked myself. Every thing went right this time, and it came out a nice, round, crusty loaf, as you see. Now taste it, and tell me if it is good as well as handsome.”

“Must I cut it? Can’t I put it under a glass cover and keep it in the parlor as they do wax flowers and fine works of that sort?”

“What an idea, uncle! It would mould and be spoilt. Besides, people would laugh at us, and make fun of my old-fashioned accomplishment. You promised to eat it, and you must; not all at once, but as soon as you can, so I can make you some more.”

Dr. Alec solemnly cut off his favorite crusty slice, and solemnly ate it; then wiped his lips, and brushing back Rose’s hair, solemnly kissed her on the forehead, saying heartily,—

“My dear, it is perfect bread, and you are an honor to your teacher. When we have our model school I shall offer a prize for the best bread, and you will get it.”

“I’ve got it already, and I’m quite satisfied,” said Rose, slipping into her seat, and trying to hide her right hand which had a burn on it.

But Dr. Alec saw it, guessed how it came there, and after tea insisted on easing the pain which she would hardly confess.

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