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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“Delia” ses the lady, “Mr. Wolley will want his chop in a minit. Master Willie will have fareena and a poched egg. Shedded weet biskits for Miss Claire——”

“Mummer” ses she, washing her hed over me tubs, “I want nothing—nothing.”

Just then Mr. James wint into the dyning-roon and rung the bell lowdly.

“Peeches and pancakes” ses Mrs. Wolley coldly.

Miss Claire has her hed washed be this time, and she stands oop, wid it rolled oop in a towl. She guv me wan look—a cross betwane a shmile and a frown, and ses she:

“Delia, do you wish me to get brikfust to-day?”

“God forbid, Miss” ses I, and wint to wark.

Miss Claire is horty agin, and she ses wid a cold look at me:

“Very well thin Delia, till the 24th then. Come mother.”

ssss1

Its a weery world. Here I be, a poor loansome female alone in this crool city warking for foaks wid lether harts.

“O wirra, wirra, wirra” as me auld mother used to say.

Aroze. Dressed. Washed.

I wint to see me frind Minnie Carnavan last nite and feel better the day. Ses she: