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She thought she would like Maurice to know that Harry Craven and she had beaten Minna Ackroyd and Norman Waugh. A love set. Afterwards Harry Craven playing hide-and-seek in the dark. The tennis net, coiled like a grey snake on the black lawn. "Let's hide together." Harry Craven, hiding, crouching beside you under the currant bushes.
When thoroughly cooked, remove and place the leg on a warm platter; skim the grease from the top of the drippings, add a cup of water and thicken with a spoonful of dissolved flour. Send the gravy to the table in a gravy dish, also a dish of currant jelly. To prepare a leg of mutton for boiling, wash it clean, cut a small piece off the shank bone, and trim the knuckle.
Five minutes before you send it to table take off the paper, dust it over with a little flour, and baste it with butter; let it go up with a good froth; put no gravy in the dish, but send it in one boat; and currant jelly melted, in another; or if you have no currant jelly, boil half a pint of red wine with a quarter of a pound of lump sugar, a stick of cinnamon, and a piece of lemon peel in it, to a syrup.
Small birds may simply be washed and wiped dry, tied firmly, and roasted twenty minutes, dredging with flour, basting with butter and water, and adding a little currant jelly or wine to the gravy. They may be served on toast. Cut the chicken into nice pieces for serving. Roll in flour, or, if preferred, in beaten egg and crumbs.
Yet the Frau Inspector not only had never heard of them, but, on my showing her a bunch, was not in the least impressed, and led me in her garden to a number of those exceedingly vulgar red herbaceous peonies growing among her currant bushes, and announced with conviction that they were her favourite flower.
By this Method it will keep good many Years, and be a very strong and pleasant Wine, at a very cheap rate. It is necessary to observe, that the same sort of Currant is not always of the same Sweetness when it is ripe, those growing in the Shade will be less sweet than those that are more exposed to the Sun.
On its cover of spotless white linen were plates and cups and saucers and a big platter of roasted prairie chickens and a great frosted cake and preserves and jellies and potato salad and a pie and a bottle of currant wine. A clock was ticking on the shelf. There were live embers in the fireplace and wood in the box, and venison hanging in the chimney.
What is a garden without its currant bushes and fruit trees? Last year, no question of this nature was raised: our right seemed to be tacitly conceded, and if you claimed or exercised any manorial privileges, it never came to my knowledge. This season when Mr.
"Now, whoever would ha' thought o' your rec'lecting that?" said Mrs. Patton. "Yes. I had that mug because it was handy to carry about among the bushes, and then I'd empt' it into the basket as fast as I got it full. Your aunt always told me to pick all I wanted; she couldn't use 'em, but they used to make sights o' currant wine in old times.
The old grass looked greener, and the young grass thrust up its tiny blades; the buds of the guelder-rose and of the currant and the sticky birch-buds were swollen with sap, and an exploring bee was humming about the golden blossoms that studded the willow.
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