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Updated: May 12, 2025
"When I ha' baked Depper's fourses cake, and sent it off by 'Meelyer's little gal she ha' lent her to me to go back and forth to the harvest-field, 'Meelyer have I kin go," the wife said; "not afore," hiccoughing loudly over the tea she tried to drink; "not afore not afore! Oh, how I wish I could, bor; how I wish I could!" "You're a-goin', this instant minute," the masterful Dinah declared.
All I'll ask of ye now, Dinah Brome, is that ye'll have an eye to Depper's fourses cake in th' oven, and see that 'Meelyer's gal take it and his home-brew, comf'table, to th' field for 'm." Dinah, having folded the woman's clothes, spread them for additional warmth upon the poor bed-covering.
You ha' telled me and I ha' put the fault o' yer poverty home on ter yer pore missus's shoulders. But since I been here, I ha' seen 'er crawlin' on 'er han's and knees to wait on you, wi' yer fourses i' th' harvest-field. I ha' heered her manderin' on, 'let things be comf'table for Depper, and let her fend for herself. And I can see with half an eye the bute is on t'other fut, Depper.
The woman of whom they had been speaking stood with her back to the window. A stooping, drooping skeleton of a woman, who, with weak, shaking hands, kneaded some dough in which a few currants were stuck, before laying it on a black-looking baking tin. "A fine time o' day to bake his fourses cake!" the woman outside commented, reaching on tiptoe, the better to look in at the window.
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