“You’re to go about the house looking like thunder all the day, and I’m not to say a word. Where do you think pudding’s to come from every day? You show a nice example to your children, you do; complaining, and turning your nose up at a sweet piece of cold mutton, because there’s no pudding! You go a nice way to make ’em extravagant - teach ’em nice lessons to begin the world with. Do you know what puddings cost; or do you think they fly in at the window?
“You hate cold mutton. The more shame for you, Mr. Caudle. I’m sure you’ve the stomach of a lord, you have. No, sir: I didn’t choose to hash the mutton. It’s very easy for you to say hash it; but I know what a joint loses in hashing: it’s a day’s dinner the less, if it’s a bit. Yes, I daresay; other people may have puddings with cold mutton. No doubt of it; and other people become bankrupts. But if ever you get into the Gazette, it sha’n’t be my fault - no; I’ll do my duty as a wife to you, Mr. Caudle: you shall never have it to say that it was my housekeeping that brought you to beggary. No; you may sulk at the cold meat - ha! I hope you’ll never live to want such a piece of cold mutton as we had to-day! and you may threaten to go to a tavern to dine; but, with our present means, not a crumb of pudding do you get from me. You shall have nothing but the cold joint - nothing as I’m a Christian sinner.
“Yes; there you are, throwing those fowls in my face again! I know you once brought home a pair of fowls; I know it: and weren’t you mean enough to want to stop ’em out of my week’s money? Oh, the selfishness - the shabbiness of men! They can go out and throw away pounds upon pounds with a pack of people who laugh at ’em afterwards; but if it’s anything wanted for their own homes, their poor wives may hunt for it. I wonder you don’t blush to name those fowls again! I wouldn’t be so little for the world, Mr. Caudle.
“What are you going to do?
“Going to get up?
“Don’t make yourself ridiculous, Mr. Caudle; I can’t say a word to you like any other wife, but you must threaten to get up. Do be ashamed of yourself.
“Puddings, indeed! Do you think I’m made of puddings? Didn’t you have some boiled rice three weeks ago? Besides, is this the time of the year for puddings? It’s all very well if I had money enough allowed me like any other wife to keep the house with: then, indeed, I might have preserves like any other woman; now, it’s impossible; and it’s cruel - yes, Mr. Caudle, cruel - of you to expect it.
“Apples aren’t so dear, are they?
“I know what apples are, Mr. Caudle, without your telling me. But I suppose you want something more than apples for dumplings? I suppose sugar costs something, doesn’t it? And that’s how it is. That’s how one expense brings on another, and that’s how people go to ruin.
“Pancakes?