Читать книгу Samantha on the Race Problem онлайн

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But if you can believe it, before I got breakfast ready, while he was a wipin’ his hands to the sink on the roller towel, he broke out agin as fresh seemingly in debate as ever.

If I had mistrusted it ahead I should have made extra preparation for breakfast, for the purpose of quellin’ him down, but I hadn’t dreamed of his resoomin’ it agin; and I only got my common run of brekfasses, though it wuz very good and appetizin’.

I had some potatoes warmed up in cream, and some lamb-chops broiled brown and yet juicy, some hot muffins light as a feather, and some delicious coffee—it wuz good enough for a King or a Zar—but then it wuzn’t one of my choice efforts, for principle’s sake, which I often have to make in the cookin’ line, and—good land!—which every other human woman has to make who has a man to deal with.

We can’t vote, and we have to do sunthin’ or other to get our own way.

Wall, as I wuz a sayin’, he broke out anew, and sez he:

“I am sick as a dog of all this talk about the Race Problem.”