“When we get a little warm,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we will consider what is to be done.”
“I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I was to have had a leg of mutton to-day.”
“Nothing will come to-day,” said Agamemnon, gloomily.
“Are these sausages the last meat in the house?” asked Mr. Peterkin.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin.
The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had meant to order more flour that very day.
“Then we are eating our last provisions,” said Solomon John, helping himself to another sausage.
“I almost wish we had stayed in bed,” said Agamemnon.
“I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first,” repeated Mrs. Peterkin.
“Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?” asked Mr. Peterkin.