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Updated: May 23, 2025
Mrs. She sat in the parlour with her guest until Mr. Jenney reappeared with shining face and damp hair. "You'll excuse me, my dear," said Mrs. Jenney, "but the supper's on the stove, and I have to run out now and then." Mr. Jenney was entertaining. He had the shrewd, humorous outlook upon life characteristic of the best type of New England farmer, and Victoria got along with him famously.
"Come, come, your supper's gittin' cold; I never see such men as you and Archer is; you're wash, wash, wash all day. It's little water enough that you use any other ways." "Why, is there any other use for water, Tom?" I asked, simply enough. "It's lucky if there aint, any how leastwise, where you and Archer is else you'd leave none for the rest of us.
Father'll have to take his coat off and you'll have to get a fan." There was a moment of silence. "Supper's over," she said simply. She held in one hand a partly eaten biscuit. "I'll be in soon now. I've nothing to do but kindle my fire." After another short interval she asked: "Is it going, to snow?" "It's going to do something." She stepped slowly back into the warm room and closed the door.
He was further reassured by a jolly laugh that rang out just as he reached the steps leading up to the veranda. "Hullo, Johnson," said a voice, "what does this mean?" "I've come to see the governor, Captain." "Then you couldn't have come at a worse time. The supper's half an hour late, and you know what that means to the governor." Mr. Johnson smiled.
"Don't worry me, child. We'll talk about it tomorrow." "How much? You've no right to hide things from me. You hurt me." "Eleven dollars and eighty cents when this bill for supper's paid and the waitress tipped." "I'll try for a place in a store," said she. "Don't talk that way or think that way," cried he angrily. "There's where so many people fail in life. They don't stick to their game.
Then he resumed his cooking, attending to it very carefully, removing each egg, as it was browned, to a hot and clean dish which stood in readiness. "There," he said, at last, "supper's ready. Here's the vinegar, here's the pepper, here's the salt, here's the pewter jug with the beer, here's the bread and butter, and last, but not least, here's your tea, Josephine.
She loved her uncle, but love, powerful as it is, cannot always cast out unbelief. "Where can your husband be, Alice?" asked Mandy. "Half-past six, and supper's ready. I remember how I used to call out 'supper's ready' when you and he were in the parlour singing. I hope you'll sing some to-night." Mrs. Crowley rushed into the dining room. "He's coming, but he's got a woman with him."
He was darker than Adam even. In the twilight the hollows of his face were sheer black. The room was gray. Mrs. Egg wished that the film would hurry and show something brightly lit. The dreary whisper mourned, "Grain for the grim reaper's sickle, that's what I am. Tares mostly. When I'm gone you lay me alongside your mamma and " "Supper's ready, Mis' Egg," said the cook. Supper was odious.
Club'll pay for the fireworks that's their show. Bonfires on the mountains around are easy. Lanterns cheap. Get special terms on the music friend of mine can. Supper's up to you. Can you get extra help?" "We can manage the supper," agreed Tom, his round cheeks deeply flushed with excitement. "Say, you're you're awfully kind. I don't know why " Perkins vaulted over the porch rail.
She had to go back to the Sugar Bowl until nine. Five minutes later the supper was steaming on the table. "Ernie," called Ma, toward the ceiling. "Er-nie! Supper's on." The three sat down at the table without waiting. Pa had slipped off his shoes, and was in his stockinged feet. They ate in silence. It was a good meal. A European family of the same class would have considered it a banquet.
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