In those days it was thought rather coarse for a young lady to have too hearty an appetite , and she was more admired if she was delicate about what she ate . Cousin Annetta set out to be very refined indeed . She pretended to have no appetite at all . One afternoon she was invited to tea at Grandfather King 's when they had some special company -- people from Charlottetown . Cousin Annetta said she could hardly eat anything . ` You know , Uncle Abraham , ' she said , in a very affected , fine-young-lady voice , ' I really hardly eat enough to keep a bird alive . Mother says she wonders how I continue to exist . ' And she picked and pecked until Grandfather King declared he would like to throw something at her . After tea Cousin Annetta went home , and just about dark Grandfather King went over to Uncle Jeremiah 's on an errand . As he passed the open , lighted pantry window he happened to glance in , and what do you think he saw ? Delicate Cousin Annetta standing at the dresser , with a big loaf of bread beside her and a big platterful of cold , boiled pork in front of her ; and Annetta was hacking off great chunks , like Dan there , and gobbling them down as if she was starving . Grandfather King could n't resist the temptation . He stepped up to the window and said , ` I 'm glad your appetite has come back to you , Annetta . Your mother need n't worry about your continuing to exist as long as you can tuck away fat , salt pork in that fashion . ' `` Cousin Annetta never forgave him , but she never pretended to be delicate again . '' `` The Jews do n't believe in eating pork , '' said Peter . `` I 'm glad I 'm not a Jew and I guess Cousin Annetta was too , '' said Dan . `` I like bacon , but I can never look at a pig without wondering if they were ever intended to be eaten , '' remarked Cecily naively . When we finished our lunch the barrens were already wrapping themselves in a dim , blue dusk and falling upon rest in dell and dingle . But out in the open there was still much light of a fine emerald-golden sort and the robins whistled us home in it .
`` Horns of Elfland '' never sounded more sweetly around hoary castle and ruined fane than those vesper calls of the XXXXX from the twilight spruce woods and across green pastures lying under the pale radiance of a young moon .
Dan Jeremiah Jew Mother Peter afternoon barrens days platterful robins