Before a good fire stood Miss Fortune,
holding the end of a very long iron handle, by which she was
kept in communication with a flat vessel sitting on the fire,
in which Ellen soon discovered all this noisy and odorous
cooking was going on. A tall tin coffee-pot stood on some
coals in the corner of the fireplace, and another little iron
vessel in front also claimed a share of Miss Fortune's
attention, for she every now and then leaned forward to give a
stir to whatever was in it, making each time quite a spasmodic
effort to do so, without quitting her hold of the end of the
long handle. Ellen drew near, and looked on with great
curiosity, and not a little appetite; but Miss Fortune was far
too busy to give her more than a passing glance. At length the
hissing pan was brought to the hearth for some new arrangement
of its contents, and Ellen seized the moment of peace and
quiet to say, "Good morning, Aunt Fortune."
Miss Fortune was crouching by the pan, turning her slices of
pork. "How do you do this morning?" she answered, without
looking up.
Ellen replied she felt a great deal better.
"Slept warm, did you?" said Miss Fortune, as she set the pan
back on the fire. And Ellen could hardly answer. "Quite warm,
Ma’am," when the hissing and sputtering began again, as loud
as ever.
"I must wait," thought Ellen, "till this is over, before I say
what I want to.
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