"Please go and see, will you, so that we can have her breakfast right for her."
Mrs. Cheese went upstairs, leaving the dining-room door open behind her. Just before we heard her knocking at Aunt Jael's door, we heard a more sinister noise in the bedroom above, a spring and a thud: Aunt Jael bounding out of bed to lock the door against her, usually managing to turn the key in the lock just as Mrs. Cheese began knocking.
"Lem'me in! Zich games wi' an ole body." She knocked and thumped.
No success. The silence of death.
"Go wi'out yer breakfast then!" A final thump or kick, and she waddled downstairs to the dining-room.
"No good, Mrs. Lee. 'Er's up to 'er tantrums, 'er's banged the door and turned the key."
Immediately the floor-thumping overhead began again. Aunt Jael was leaning out of bed and prodding the floor with her stick. Blows rained thunderously, monotonously; it was no good pretending they were not there, as I sometimes could for a few moments, relying on Grandmother's deafness. Then the noise would cease. We heard the bound and spring. She was out of bed, had opened the door and was howling downstairs over the banisters, "Hannah! Cheese! Child! Food, Food! I'm a-starvin', I'm a-starvin'!"
"Will you try once again, Mrs. Cheese, please?" said my Grandmother. "Or I will," she would add, seeing reluctance.
This always decided the old lady. To save Grandmother she puffed her way once more upstairs. Aunt Jael went on screaming from the landing, "Food, food!" till Mrs. Cheese was nearly up the stairs. Then she scuttled into her bedroom, and swiftly locked the door again.
"Starve away, ye old biddy, starve till ye die for all I care, an' I 'ope 'tis middlin' quick." She descended, calling in at the dining-room door as she paused, "I've done wi' the 'ole biddy fer iver."