“Domestic Science,” Roxanne laughed back at her own self; and just then Tony came in with his pie catastrophe that caused so much trouble.

“You two hubbies, you had better lay aside the darning-needle and seize the pie plate,” he said, fanning himself with Roxanne’s scissors.  “We’ve just decided in Scout Council to take the Palefaces out to the Harpeth ridge to hunt spring shoots and roots, and we always count on you for pies, Roxy, Stocking-darner.”

“How lovely, Tony!” exclaimed Roxanne, rising right above the pies which sank my heart like lead to think of her having to furnish; and where would she get them?  I was so dismayed that I never thought of being embarrassed about being left out, as I, of course expected to be; and so it came as a proud surprise when Tony asked me, in the nicest way a boy could think of, to go with them.  That is, he didn’t ask me, but ordered me what to bring like I had been going on the Raccoon outings since infancy.

“You are to bring a white mountain cake in a cocoanut snowstorm, City Bubbles,” he said, with that funny flare of his eyes that always sets me laughing inside whether I want to or not.  “Belle is brewing sandwiches and Mamie Sue is croquetting with some chicken.  Don’t tell the dumpling, but we are going to rub asafetida on her shoes and leave her to rest on a stone so as to lose her good and then find her by smelling her track like true Scouts.  Now, don’t spoil a single pie, Roxy; we’ll need all six.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” answered Roxanne; and I saw that grandmother pose begin to come to her head and I knew that it meant that she would shake six pies out of that empty larder like the widow in the Bible did the meal.  “Did you ask Miss Prissy, Tony?” she asked, as if to change the subject for an instant’s relief.

“I did,” answered Tony with a laugh; “and Miss Bubbles said she would go accompanied by a basket of stuffed eggs to return accompanied by a bunch of stuffed Scouts.  We also asked the Colonel, and he made us a speech of acceptance twenty minutes long, Pink and me.  But I must hurry along and encourage Mamie Sue not to eat all the chicken tasties as she makes them.  Do you two Palefaces promise to rustle around as soon as I go?”

“We do,” we both answered as he went out of the gate.  Then we sat still, paralyzed, instead of the promised rustling.  Only I was the most upset.  Roxanne always brings out the rainbow and shakes it when the clouds get down very low.

“What are you going to do about the pies?” I asked, forgetting my promise to myself never to force Roxanne to look any kind of problem in the face as long as she could keep her back to it.

“Well,” she answered so placidly that I felt ashamed of myself, “I have just been thinking those apples up.  I can starve Lovey and myself enough to get the things for the crust, but where are the apples to come from?  Won’t it be fun to look back from richness and remember when an apple looked as big as one of the Harpeth Hills?”