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A short portage follows, and on the shores of the next and yet smaller lake we stopped for luncheon. The portage was muddy; we had tucked up our skirts as high as we could to keep them out of harm's way, and were standing idly about, watching the maid wash, and Frank cook the ducks, when we heard distant shouting. Before we could decide whence it came, Mr.
It was a one-sided sort of a discussion, to all appearing. Moreover, from the pitch and the velocity of the voice, Dolph judged the discussion to be largely on the part of the Brentons' most recent cook. "There's no use in my trying to please you," he heard the voice say, as he started up the strip of gravel. "You find fault with everything I do; you interfere with my rights "
"I think I'll go in for a smashed pin every day o' my life for a drop o' that stuff. Surely it must be wot they drinks in 'eaven! Have 'ee got much more o' the same on 'and?" "Never mind, but you drink away while you've got the chance," replied the amiable cook; "there's the cab coming, so you've no time to lose."
Kelly's drum or woman showing that she can acquire the same dexterity on a drilling machine as on a sewing machine, the same skill at a tempering oven as at a cook stove, the same competence and neatness in a factory as in a house.
The Queen tried to talk to him, and make inquiries of him, but he had probably steeled himself to her blandishments, for nothing but gruff monosyllables could be extracted from him, except when he finally asked what she would be pleased to have for supper. "Mine own cook and pantler have hitherto provided for me.
He had often been unselfish for her; she would try to counter his unselfishness with hers. When she was in the house again she had a colloquy with the cook about the dinner for that evening. As Esme Darlington had given up an engagement in London to come to Little Cloisters, her dinner must be something special.
Sztolarik now became curious too. "Who is Mrs. Adamecz?" he asked. "My old cook, who just now brought me the keys." Mr. Sztolarik burst out laughing, the walls of the empty church re-echoing with the sound.
Where, where oh, bless me, did any one see Miss Folliard?" Lanigan, however, had prepared for any thing like a surprise. He planted himself, as a sentinel, at the foot of the stairs, and the moment he heard the alarm of Miss Herbert on her way down, he met her half way up, after having given a loud significant cough. "Oh, cook, have you seen Miss Folliard? I can't find her in the house!"
"How did you manage to cook and take pictures when you were tied up like a fish for shipment?" asked Frank. "They didn't tie me up for a time, for I gave them a lot of talk about liking their society," was the answer. "They just watched me. When it came night and they wanted to sleep, they put the harness on!" "That was careless of them," declared Frank, "not to tie you up tight."
"I was just wondering this evening, before you came in, how I ever made out to cook anything on the other. Come and see how nice it looks." Janet followed her into the kitchen. As they stood close together gazing at the new purchase Janet was uncomfortably aware of drops that ran a little way in the furrows of Hannah's cheeks, stopped, and ran on again.
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