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This he emptied upon the gum arabic, and, in obedience to instructions, thoroughly mixed both together. "To make the fine emery remain longer in suspension," said his uncle, "keep on stirring, Tom." "All right, uncle. What, are you going to pour water in? It's like making a Christmas pudding."
A man who could paint the soul of a cedar in that way must know it all. "Why not?" she gave her verdict later over the bread-and-butter pudding; "unless you think he'd find it dull without companions." "He would paint all day in the Forest, dear. I'd like to pick his brains a bit, too, if I could manage it."
Hers was a house in which, the choice being "optional," sundry of the lodgers took their rooms "with board." Important as was her occupation, at the moment, of "helping out" the cook by inducing a mass of stale bread to fancy itself disguised as a pudding, she flung that occupation aside at once, and threw on her things to accompany Larcher to police headquarters.
'An old man had three sons, said he, the infidel dog, 'one was a thief, another a rogue, and the third a soldier and the soldier died first. 'A camel of Bagdad, he called me. Into the belly of a dead camel shall he go, be sewn up like a cat's liver in a pudding, and cast into the Nile before God gives tomorrow a sun." Dicky pushed away the camel-stew. "It is time to go," he said.
Moss, and hints had been given for a closer tie. "I don't think it is likely," said Frank. "But is anything the matter between you and Rachel?" asked Edith. At that moment Peter was walking off with the leg of mutton, and Ada had run into the kitchen to fetch the rice pudding, which she had made to celebrate her brother's return.
She would not ask as to Harry's whereabouts, but she missed his presence, and anger grew in her heart. "He is with that girl," she thought, and she was sick with anxiety and inquietude. The roast sirloin was done to the last perfect minute, and the Yorkshire pudding deliciously brown and light; the table was set without a flaw or a "forget," and the fire and light just as they should be.
It was not busy, the hour being somewhat late and the day Saturday, and so against the walls, on either side the long halls, were ranged sentinel rows of white-aproned, white-capped, black-dressed waitresses. They were dawdling over their tea Ned and Nellie were, not the waitresses having dined exceedingly well on soup and fish and flesh and pudding.
There was pudding for dinner. But wrong or not, Emmy Lou knew that it was so, she knew she did not like Miss Lizzie. One morning Miss Lizzie forgot the package of trial-paper. The supply was out. She called Rosalie. Then she called Emmy Lou. She told them where her house was, then told them to go there, ring the bell, ask for the paper, and return.
The healthy school is played out in England; all that could be said has been said; the successors of Dickens, Thackeray, and George Eliot have no ideal, and consequently no language; what can be more pudding than the language of Mr. Hardy, and he is typical of a dozen other writers, Mr. Besant, Mr. Murray, Mr. Crawford?
Follow this with the egg-whites beaten stiff. Flavor with brandy a tablespoonful and a half. Bake in a moderate oven about an hour. Serve with any approved pudding sauce, or use as other cake. Nearly as good as the pound cake of our grandmothers. Beat hard for at least half an hour until the mixture is smooth and stiff.
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