exclaimed Kate . `` Cheer up , Aggie . You know we can cook . I feel that it is now or never with Aunt Susanna . '' I cheered up accordingly . We are not given to pessimism which is fortunate . Ever since father died four years ago we have struggled on here , content to give up a good deal just to keep our home and be together . This little gray house -- oh , how we do love it and its apple trees -- is ours and we have , as aforesaid , a tiny income and our ambitions ; not very big ambitions but big enough to give zest to our lives and hope to the future . We 've been very happy as a rule . Aunt Susanna has a big house and lots of money but she is n't as happy as we are . She nags us a good deal -- just as she used to nag father -- but we do n't mind it very much after all . Indeed , I sometimes suspect that we really like Aunt Susanna tremendously if she 'd only leave us alone long enough to find it out . Thursday morning was an ideal Thanksgiving morning -- bright , crisp and sparkling . There had been a white frost in the night , and the orchard and the white birch wood behind it looked like fairyland . We were all up early . None of us had slept well , and both Kate and I had had the most fearful dreams of spoiling Aunt Susanna 's Thanksgiving dinner . `` Never mind , dreams always go by contraries , you know , '' said Laura cheerfully . `` You 'd better go up to the Pinery early and get the fires on , for the house will be cold . Remember the McGinnises and the dog . Weigh the turkey so that you 'll know exactly how long to cook it .
Put the pies XXXXX the oven in time to get piping hot -- lukewarm mince pies are an abomination .
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