Servants' Cook. 'Cos they always rinse it down! All with sweet wines, and spirits, and fizzy liquors. They have a different one to suit every kind of food. They eat and rinse it down, and eat and rinse it down, they do.
First Peasant. And so the food's floated down in proportion, so to say.
Servants' Cook. Ah, yes, they are good at stuffing! It's awful! You see, it's not just sitting down, eating, then saying grace and going away—they're always at it!
Second Peasant. Like pigs with their feet in the trough!
[Peasants laugh.
Servants' Cook. As soon as, by God's grace, they have opened their eyes, the samovár is brought in—tea, coffee, chocolate. Hardly is the second samovár emptied, a third has to be set. Then lunch, then dinner, then again coffee. They've hardly left off, then comes tea, and all sorts of tit-bits and sweetmeats—there's never an end to it! They even lie in bed and eat!
Third Peasant. There now; that's good.
[Laughs.
First and Second Peasants. What are you about?
Third Peasant. If I could only live a single day like that!