"Midge, put all those things back and shut the cupboard door, and stop talking," said I, decisively. And Midge obeyed.
"Now," said I, "I wonder where Mary keeps her needles; this must be sewed up."
Midge was on hand again, and pulled forth needles, and thread, and twine, and after some pulling and pinching of my fingers, and some unsuccessful struggles with the stiff wings that wouldn't lie down, and the stiff legs that would kick out, my turkey was fairly bound and captive, and handsomely awaiting his destiny.
"Now, Midge," said I, triumphant; "open the oven door!"
"Oh! please, ma'am, it's only ten o'clock. You don't want to roast him all day."
Sure enough; I had not thought of that. Our dinner hour was five o'clock; and, for the first time in my life, the idea of time as connected with a roast turkey rose in my head.
"Midge, when _does_ your mother put the turkey in?"
"Oh! not till some time in the afternoon," said Midge, wisely.
"How long does it take a turkey to roast?" said I.
"Oh! a good while," said Midge, confidently, "'cordin' as how large they is."
I turned to my cook-book, and saw that so much time must be given to so many pounds; but I had not the remotest idea how many pounds there were in the turkey. So I set Midge to cleaning the silver, and ran across the way, to get light of Miss Dorcas.
How thankful I was for the neighborly running-in terms on which I stood with my old ladies; it stood me in good stead in this time of need. I ran in at the back door and found Miss Dorcas in her kitchen, presiding over some special Eleusinian mysteries in the way of preserves. The good soul had on a morning-cap calculated to strike terror into an inexperienced beholder, but her face beamed with benignity, and she entered into the situation at once.
"Cookery books are not worth a fly in such cases," she remarked, sententiously. "You must use your judgment."
"But what if you haven't got any judgment to use?" said I. "I haven't a bit."
"Well, then, dear child, you must use Dinah's, as I do. Dinah can tell to a T, how long a turkey takes to roast, by looking at it. Here, Dinah, run over, and 'talk turkey' to Mrs. Henderson."
Dinah went back with me, boiling over with giggle. She laughed so immoderately over my turkey that I began to fear I had made some disgraceful blunder; but I was relieved by a facetious poke in the side which she gave me, declaring: