When Amanda awoke the next morning her first thought was of the burnt
hand and its healing kiss. "Why, Martin--ach, Martin--he kissed my
hand," she said softly to herself. "Just like they do in the stories
about knights--knights always kiss their ladies' hands. Ach, I know
what I'll do! I'll play Martin Landis is my knight and I'm his lady
grand. Wish Mom was here, then I'd ask her if she knows anything about
what knights do and how the ladies ought to act to them. But she's in
Lancaster. Mebbe Millie would know. I'll go ask her once."
Millie was baking pies when the girl sought her for the information.
"Say, Millie!"
"Ach, what?" The hired girl brushed the flour from her bare arms and
turned to look at Amanda. "Now I know what you want--you smell the pies
and you want a half-moon sample to eat before it's right cold and get
your stomach upset and your face all pimply. Ain't?"
"No," began the child, then added diplomatically, "why, yes, I do want
that, but that ain't what I come for."
Millie laughed. "Then what? But don't bother me for long. I got lots to
do yet. I want to get the pies all done till your mom gets back."
"Why, Millie, I wondered, do you know anything about knights?"
"Not me. I sleep nights."
"Ach, Millie--knights--the kind you read about, the men that wear
plumes in their hats."
"Feathers, you mean? Why, the only man I ever heard of wearin' a
feather in his hat was Yankee Doodle."
"Ach, Millie, you make me mad! But I guess you don't know. Well, tell
me this--if somebody did something for you and you wanted to show you
'preciated it, what would you do?"
"That's an easy one! I'd be nice to them and do things for them or for
their people. Now you run and let me be. 'Bout half an hour from now
you dare come in for your half-moon pie. Ach, I most forgot! Your mom
said you shall take a little crock of the new apple butter down to Mrs.
Landis."
"A little crock won't go far with all them children."
"Ach, yes. It'll smear a lot o' bread. I'll pack it in a basket so you
can carry it easy. Better put on your sunbonnet so your hair won't burn
red."
[Illustration: The rhubarb leaf parasol] "Redder, you mean, ain't? But I won't need a bonnet. I'll take my new
parasol."
"Parasol," echoed Millie. "Now what---"
But Amanda ran away, laughing, and returned in a few minutes holding a
giant rhubarb leaf over her head. "Does the green silk of my parasol
look good with my hair?" she asked with an exaggerated air of grandeur.
"Go on, now," Millie said, laughing, "and don't spill that apple butter
or you'll get parasol."