"Don't bring me no more broth!" he said to his wife one afternoon; "I'm sick of the very sight of it. Might as well be in hospital. Why can't you get me a scrap of liver and bacon?"
"Doctor said we wasn't to give you that on no account," objected Mrs. Gartley. "I wish they had taken you to hospital while they was about it. If it had been I, I'd have jumped at goin'."
"Shows how much you knows about it! Why, when I was in the infirmary they washed me all over every day! Yes, it's the truth I'm tellin' you! And they left windows open all day long, and wouldn't allow me a smoke, or even a chew of 'baccy. No more hospitals, says I! Take that broth away, can't you? Ain't there any jelly in the house?"
"No, the pot's empty."
"Then you've let those brats get at it!"
"I ain't. You've had it all yourself."
"Maybe they'll be sending some more from somewheres."
"Like enough; but you won't get much more from Aireyholme."
"Why not?" asked Mr. Gartley much aggrieved.
"Because the young ladies is going away next week."