Читать книгу The Diary of Delia. Being a Veracious Chronicle of the Kitchen, with Some Side-Lights on the Parlour онлайн

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“Your father.”

“Papa is—er—about the same” ses she.

“Mr. Johnny?”

“Still dy-et-ing, Delia.”

“And Mr. James——”

“James——well, Delia, nun of us are very well. James ses he has intygischun.”

“And what is that?” I inquires cooryissly

“—er—a sort of pane in the—er—stummick” ses she.

“Is it billy ake yure meening?”

She blushes, and ses:

“I suppose so.”

“Who do be doing the cooking?” I arsks.

“Well—er—I tried. Delia don’t you dare to larf” ses she indignantly.

“Larf!” ses I, “Why Lor bless your hart darlint, I’d more likely be weeping for the unhappy family.”

She leened tords me, Wid her horchure quite gone, and looking as meek and swate as a kitten in thrubble.

“Delia” ses she, “Ive had elivin girls in since you left” ses she.

“You poor lamb!”

She puts on that weedling voyce she has whin bothering me to let her make mussy foodge in me frying pans:

“Delia” ses she, “w-wudnt you like to cum back?”

I shuk me hed. Then she set back, her horchure cuming back agin.

“O well” ses she, “theres hundreds of uther girls.”