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Updated: June 12, 2025
How foolish we can be! Only last night I was bewailing the dulness and the dirt of it all, and the general absurdity and discomfort, and now without one qualm I confess I would willingly exchange yesterday's uncertainty for to-day's certainty that we are all going to be made into mincemeat. But I do not even feel serious or desperate now; it has got beyond that.
I beg of you, prepare yourself for an awful shock...." Presently the great beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead and dripped unheeded into her lap. After reading those notes she made mincemeat of them, and then lay back in her chair white and speechless. The silence was painful beyond description. Finally I broke the silence by saying: "Mrs.
It's horrid disgustin', and ain't overly brave nother; and to make matters wus, as if this warn't bad enough, them four emblem figures, have great heavy iron chains on 'em, and a great enormous sneezer of a lion has one part o' the chain in its mouth, and is a-growlin' and a-grinnin' and a-snarling at 'em like mad, as much as to say, 'if you dare to move the sixteen hundredth part of an inch, I will fall to and make mincemeat of you, in less than half no time.
"Don't eat the citron peel, my dear," mama dutifully admonished the pretty younger daughter. "Only the tiniest little bit, mama. Kind of hard bits that you can't cut up. Bessie can take my place, and I can grate the nutmegs if she likes." "But last night, Miss Deleah grated her thumb as well. We can't have any of your thumbs, Miss Deleah, in the mincemeat." It was Emily who made that observation.
Of course, my dear, we have great cause for thankfulness, and I should have had no appetite if you had lost your foot; but it really upsets me to look at that larder! How many pounds of mincemeat have you made, Miss O'Shaughnessy, may I ask?"
There she stood, in her white apron, with sleeves turned up, daintily compounding her mincemeat for Christmas, when in stalked Mrs. Headley to offer her counsel and aid but this was lost in a volley of barking from the long-backed, bandy-legged, turnspit dog, which was awaiting its turn at the wheel, and which ran forward, yapping with malign intentions towards the dame's scarlet- hosed ankles.
He devoured the food, mincemeat, meatbone, bread, cheese, and pork pie, all at once more like a man who was putting it away somewhere in a violent hurry, than a man who was eating it, only stopping from time to time to listen. "You're not a deceiving imp? You brought no one with you?" "No, sir! No!" "Well," said he, "I believe you.
She made all the bread we ate, cured the hams, and made great batches of sausages and mincemeat for pies, sufficient for the winter's consumption, as well as huge pig's-head cheeses. How she accomplished all she did I never understood.
I'll beat the shivers so far, I'll bet you." He was gobbling mincemeat, meatbone, bread, cheese, and pork pie, all at once: staring distrustfully while he did so at the mist all round us, and often stopping even stopping his jaws to listen. Some real or fancied sound, some clink upon the river or breathing of beast upon the marsh, now gave him a start, and he said, suddenly,
The mystery was cleared; for he knew that he might shoot a wolf or coyote to mincemeat and neither would make a sound. "A dog," he said. "A renegade. I should have knowed it all along; her stealing thataway right alongside of Buge; and her bristling up to me no wolf would carry on like that." He strode to the tree and unleashed the hound. "Go to it, Buge!" he said. "Go clean up them pups."
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