"She didn't keep it in long aither," was her comment.
"D'ye iver mind seein' barley in Gainer's broth?" Jamie asked.
"I haave no recollection."
"If there isn't a kink in m' power of remembrance," Jamie said, "they've had nothin' but bacon an' nettles since th' big famine."
"What did th' haave before that?" Anna asked.
"Bacon an' nettles," he said.
"Did ye ever think, Jamie, how like folks are to th' broth they make?"
"No," he said, "but there's no raisin why people should sting jist because they've got nothin' but nettles in their broth!"
The potatoes were emptied out of the pot on the bare table, my father encircling it with his arms to prevent them from rolling off. A little pile of salt was placed beside each person and each had a big bowl full of broth. The different kinds had lost their identity in the common pot.
In the midst of the meal came visitors.