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This talk was interrupted by the sergeant exclaiming, "Now then, you youngsters, look out, and get ready for the doctor's inspection." "We haven't had any breakfast; we want breakfast," cried several voices. On this the sergeant ordered in breakfast for us, in the shape of a half-quartern loaf and two ounces of butter for every four recruits. That over, we were marched to the bath-rooms.
In the evening my manuscript is brought home handsomely bound, to my full content; and now I think I have a better collection in reference to the Navy, and shall have by the time I have filled it, than any of my predecessors. So home and eat something such as we have, bread and butter and milk, and so to bed. 31st. Up and to my office, and there we sat till noon.
It consisted of a bowl of potatoes, salt, the loaf and butter, and a pitcher of water. Dr Levitt said grace, and they sat down, without one word of apology from host or hostess. Though Dr Levitt had not been prepared for an evidence like this of the state of affairs in the family, he had known enough of their adversity to understand the case now at a glance.
Hostilities, waged over so long, cease not; for if there is even one alive in the enemy's family, narrators are never wanted to remind him of the past. Enmity, O Kesava, is never neutralised by enmity; on the other hand, it is fomented by enmity, like fire fed by clarified butter.
But if he is used to biscuits, has had 'em often at his house, he'll just pull 'em open, slow an' easy like, then he'll lay a little slice of butter inside, and drop a few drops of clear honey on this, an' stick the two halves back, together again, an "
Carbonaceous substances are found in bread, sugar, arrowroot, puddings in general, pastry, potatoes. The fats, such as butter, cream, and animal fat, should be much restricted in their use.
It may affect my whole future, and perhaps yours too, dear cousin, odd as that may seem to you, unless you recall the fable of the mouse and the lion." "Which am I?" "I leave that to your imagination. But talking of game, reminds me of food. Do feed me. I want what at the convent we call 'a high tea. Cold chicken and bread and butter, and cake and jam lots of both and tea with cream in it.
The landlady invited me to dine with them, and asked if I belonged to the convent in that place. I told her that I did, for I knew if I told the truth they would suspect me at once. "Do you eat meat?" she asked. I told her I did not. "Do you eat butter on your bread?" I replied in the affirmative, and she gave me a slice of bread and butter, a piece of cheese and a silver cup full of milk.
Our desires, however, are never gratified by indulgence. On the other hand, with indulgence, they only flame up like fire with libations of sacrificial butter. If a single person were owner of everything on Earth all her yields of paddy and barley, her silver, gold, and gems, her animals and women, he would not still be content. Thirst of enjoyment, therefore, should be given up.
I laughed in the landlord's face, and told him to bring me his butter, his eggs, his macaroni, a ham, and some Parmesan cheese, for I knew that so much will be found in the inns all over Italy. The repast was soon ready, and I shewed the idiot host that he had materials for an excellent meal.
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