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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Too little salt is in it for my taste," said my foster-sister Deelish. "It is as salt as the depths of the sea," said another of the Hags. "My respects to you, ma'am," said Baun, "but I do not taste any salt on it at all." My foster-sisters were so earnest that the Hags thought themselves mistaken, and they ate the whole dishful of porridge.
These were literally smothered in onions, potatoes, and turnips, which they had procured from me. They very hospitably offered me a dishful of the odious mixture, which the odour of the muskrats rendered every thing but savoury; but I declined, simply stating that I was not hungry. My little boy tasted it, but quickly left the camp to conceal the effect it produced upon him.
"I never once thought of that," said Tom. "Now, Tom," said the farmer, "if I were you, I would step over to butcher Jobbins's, buy a shoulder of mutton, which being left from Saturday's market you will get a little cheaper. This I would make my wife bake in a deep dishful of potatoes.
I found it, however, much more pleasant in fine weather than sleeping below, where the cockroaches were so numerous that a large dishful might be obtained in a few minutes, by putting a little treacle in it, to serve both for bait and trap.
"At first I thought of going through the subway down to Uncle Squeaky's. But I remembered that our meal-bag was empty. The barn was near and I ran out to fill my pockets in the meal-chest." "While I was working, Mr. Giant came into the barn and got a dishful of meal for his chickens. It was quite dark and he did not see me.
"Here's a nice dishful for you and the girls. Pitch in, twins, and help yourselves. It's very nice." The twins waved her haughtily away. "No, thank you," they said. "We couldn't eat that candy with relish. We are unworthy." "All right," Prudence put in quickly, as Fairy only laughed. "I'll put it in the cupboard, and Fairy and I will eat it to-morrow. It's perfectly fine, simply delicious."
If anybody puts arsenic or gunpowder into his watermelons, he is universally denounced as a stingy old murderer by the community. A great many people regard growing fruit as lawful prey, who would not think of breaking into your cellar to take it. I found a man once in my raspberry-bushes, early in the season, when we were waiting for a dishful to ripen.
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