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 last winter against this treat, lad," answered his mother, transferring an enormous pile of the waffles on to Zenas's plate, which she had warmed for him, and placing it before him. "I did think mayhap I should ha' sent the syrup to the soldiers at Morris Town," she went on apologetically, "but 'twas not enow for many, so I saved it!"

"And glad enow we are ye did. Ma," said Zenas, with a twinkle, taking the syrup pitcher his mother had handed to him and letting the yellow-brown liquid splash down upon the cakes.

"Do ye sit down, too, Sally," directed Mistress Williams kindly, "for ye be as hungry as Zenas, here, I have no doubt!"

"Hungrier!" laughed Sally, obeying her. "Oh, I II [sic] was but jesting, Zenas, truly! Stop, that be enow!" she added, as the boy unselfishly gave her the larger half of his pile of waffles.

"There be more to come," said Mistress Williams, smiling. "I wonder where the children are?" She glanced at the clock in the corner.

"Ye wait, Sally," promised Zenas, attacking his cakes with a two-pronged fork. "Ye will indeed want more! The children, Ma?" He glanced over at his mother, who, seated upon a stool, was watching the waffle iron. "Oh, they will be along presently."

There was silence for a while, as Mistress Williams skillfully ejected the delicious morsels from