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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Sit down anywhere you like; and just holler through the crack in the floor, under the bearskins there, if you want anything out of the Bocker-shop, below." "We've got you a lot of fizzin' hot liver and bacon to ease down the taters with what you call a relish. Nice and streaky, ain't it?"
Stove bothered me a bit at first, but I can work her, and there'll be hot water and coffee for braxfast in the morning, and soup and taters for dinner. Cooking's easy enough when you knows how." There was a roar of laughter at this. "Ah, you may laugh, all on you, I don't keer. This won't hurt my leg, will it, doctor?"
"What on airth does she want with such a sight of 'em," inquired Dan Dennison. "Live on pies and apple-sass till next summer," suggested Mimy Lawson. "That's the stuff for my money!" replied her brother; "taters and apple-sass is my sass in the winter." "It's good those is easy got," said his sister Mary; "the sass is the most of the dinner to Bob, most commonly."
"Now, you two, try and understand plain English. Answer to your names. Soup." There was no reply. "Taters." Still no reply. "Not here?" said Mark, anxiously. "Don't sabbee, p'raps, sir. I'll try again." "Taters." No answer. "Soup." No reply. "Soup and Taters." "Aren't aboard," growled several voices in chorus. "I'm 'fraid the Soup and Taters is done, sir," said Tom Fillot in a low voice.
The savour of roasting chicken, that first delicious burst of aroma when the oven door is opened, would tempt an angel from heaven down to the lowly earth. A Southerner declares that his nostrils can detect at a prodigious distance the cooking of "possum and taters." A Kanaka has a cosmopolitan appetite, but the fragrance which moves him most nearly is the scent of fish baking in Ti leaves.
"If you would like to arrange your toilet, the boy will show you to your room. In the meantime I will see to having your horse properly cared for." The boy was the same that waited on Col. G. before, and was the son of the nurse of the plantation. "Well, Buck, how is your mammy now? How much Black Jack and Taters has she given you since I left?" "He, he, he," giggled the boy.
"Order!" cried the little man. Immediately disappearing into his mug. "Ralph Mangel, Roger Wurzel, Edward Vetches, Matthew Carrot, and Charles Taters!" said Friar Bacon. "All here, sir." "You understand it, Mangel?" "Iss, sir, I unnerstaans it." "Can you write your name, Mangel?" "Iss, sir." Breathless interest.
'An' I'll tell your boy I wants 'im to watch my team for me, an' I'll gib 'im a dollar. 'All right, only tell 'im what you'll do, an' tell 'im to come an' ax me an' he musn't know I knows about it. An' I tuk missus' young hosses, an' put my man an' chillen in, cover 'em up, den put a bag o' taters an' apples an' a basket o' chickens in front.
But the others, with friendly sidelong glance at me, all spoke; and their placid voices were full of rich contentment. "Good-night"; "Nice rain"; "G'd-evenin'"; and, last of all, "This'll make the young taters grow!" The man who said this looked all alert, as if the blood were dancing in him with enjoyment of the rain; his eyes were beaming with pleasure.
"Hurry him up, mammy," she whispered to her housekeeper, and immediately went to her writing desk. "Laws, how can I leave them are taters, mammy?" he said, appealing to his better-half. "Laws, you can git back in time to kiver 'em up; you'll better let 'em spile and keep on the right side of the pet. Likely she's got something particular she wants to say to Mr. Sherman; girls is up to sich things.
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