the old woman spoke in a squeaky voice that did not seem quite real. Laura stared at the large, bent figure standing at her kitchen door. A close-knit woollen shawl covered her head and crossed over her short gown. The front of a beribboned mob cap poked out over her forehead. Her heavy petticoat hung well over her shoes as she waited on the back stoop, holding her empty round basket. Laura did not hesitate to welcome the old woman, for she had never forgotten her outburst against the three young American soldiers. Now she kept food prepared and ready to serve to anyone who passed her way. Most often it was the enemy. Praise for Laura Secord’s apple pie and candied maple sugar spread through the lines as more and more American soldiers received her hospitality. So Laura was not surprised to see this woman at her door. “What would you like?” Laura said in a pleasant voice. The coarse-featured old lady shifted from one foot to the other.
