So before I could say another word the pork-pie was brought out on the white kitchen-table, and Mrs Stephenson began to cut out a wedge.
“May I take it with me,” I said, “and eat it as I go along?”
“Bless the boy; yes, of course,” said our homely landlady. “Boys who are growing want plenty to eat. I hate to see people starve.”
“But I want you to do me a favour,” I said.
“Of course, my dear. What is it?”
“I want you to lend me your clothes-line.”
“What, that we are just going to put out in the yard for the clean clothes? I should just think not indeed.”
“How tiresome!” I cried. “Well, never mind; I must buy a bit. But will you lend me a couple of meat-hooks?”
“Now, what in the world are you going to do with a clothes-line and two meat-hooks?”
“I’m going fishing,” I said impatiently.