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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“Is it a bow ye’re maning?” I arsks sarcarskullully.
“Yes Delia dear.”
“And sorrer a Nite of that kind will I get Miss” ses I moanfully.
She opened her blue eyes big, and shuk her hed mysteerissly.
“Its in the cuntry they abownd” ses she.
“And lit them cum abownding” ses I snorting, “Its a foine gintlemanly sort” ses I “wud abound into the prisince of a loidy. If it’s oanly the bounding kind ye’re haveing here, Miss Claire, theyd bitter kape their distance frum me kitchen.”
CHAPTER VIII
A FEW DAYS LATER
ssss1
Awoke—aroze—washed—dressed—made me bed—Imtied me slops.
I tuk a bit of paper from Mr. John’s desk, and I penned the follering warning in plane litters and langwidge:
BRIKFUST SARVED
AT 8 OANLEY
NO BRIKFUST
SARVED LATER
This I taxed artiskully upon the dining-room door—facing all eyes.
Mr. John—ating his loan cup of hot water looks up. Hes a gintle spaking gintleman in contrarst to his bruther James. The rayson of this Mr. Wolley explayned to me wanse was that Mr. John is an eediotor wile Mr. James is a bawld voiced orthor, spaking, ses Mr. Wolley, wid the orful tung of the muck raker. Well Mr. John looks up gintly and fidgets his paper and ses mildly: