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Updated: May 23, 2025
I give it a dash or two of water, and up it comes to the usual level. Water's the only thing that'll do it. Or s'pos'n that cow eats a pison vine in the woods; am I going to let my innocent customers be killed by it for the sake of saving a little labor at the pump? No, sir; I slush in a few quarts of water, neutralize the pison, and there she is as right as a trivet.
Having cleaned a small or moderate sized salmon, season it with salt, pepper, and powdered mace rubbed on it both outside and in. Skewer it with the tail turned round and put to the mouth. Lay it on a stand or trivet in a deep dish or pan, and stick it over with bits of butter rolled in flour. Put it into the oven, and baste it occasionally, while baking, with its own drippings.
A voice from within answered sleepily, "Right right as a trivet, old lady," and yawned. Mrs. Garth put her head close to the door-jamb. "Ye'd best be putten the better leg afore, gentlemen," she said with becoming amiability; "yer breakfast is nigh about ready, gentlemen." "The better leg, David, eh? Ha! ha! ha!" came from another muffled voice within. Mrs.
"No, sir; only it might have been. Toppin little Trevelyan, that is got into the deep end, and the March Hare you know the boy I mean, sir he thought he was drowning, and jumped in after him with his things on, and so they had to haul them both out. Toppin's as right as a trivet again, and as warm as a toast.
Allow ten minutes to the pound if the meat is liked rare, and from twelve to fifteen, if well done. It is always better to place the meat on a trivet or stand made to fit easily in the roasting-pan, so that it may not become sodden in the water used for gravy. Put into a hot oven, that the surface may soon sear over and hold in the juices, enough of which will escape for the gravy.
Trivet, p. 58. While Henry was alarmed at this incident, and had the prospect of dangerous intrigues, or even of a war, which, whether successful or not, must be extremely calamitous and disagreeable to him, he received intelligence of new misfortunes, which must have affected him in the most sensible manner.
"Here, wait a bit and rest. You haven't quite come to yet." "Me, sir? I'm right as a trivet," cried Tom; and to prove it he turned quickly over on his face propped himself up on his hands, with his elbows well bent, and then gave a sharp downward thrust which threw him up so that he stood well balanced once more upon his stout wooden legs.
He managed, however, to put out his hand and lay it on the counterpane, so that his son could take it. "Why, that's well, governor," said the son; "you'll be as right as a trivet in a day or two eh, governor?" The "governor" smiled with a ghastly smile. He already pretty well knew that he would never again be "right," as his son called it, on that side of the grave.
She kept near on purpose and tried to encourage him by smiles and nods. When he passed close to her he heard her hearty voice saying, "Well done, little chap! You jest stick on and you'll be as right as a trivet." A strangled sob by way of answer rose in Orion's throat. Alas! he knew only too well that he could not stick on.
But she still hovered anxiously over the pot, gravely considering how many minutes longer it should rest on its trivet over the glowing coals. Hers was a quaint little figure. She wore a queer little black dress, very short and narrow, made after some peculiar fashion of her own, and over it a queerer little cape of the same stuff.
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