“O Delia” ses she “what do you think. A cupple of papa’s frinds have cum up frum town, and we’ll have to kape thim for loonch. What have we got?”
“See for yersilf” ses I, biling over wid rage. Company indade on Winsdy, wid the tale ind of the ironing to finish, and seeds to be planted in the gardin.
“O deer!” ses she “there is’nt a thing hardly. What will we do? I’m sure none of those trade people will deliver in time. What did you plan to give us to-day Delia?”
“Its hash ye’ll get and be thankful” ses I.
“But theres no cold meat aven” ses she in disthress.
“I’ll attind to that” ses I.
“But——”
“Now see here Miss Claire, its no time I have for argying wid me hands boorsting wid wark this marning. Will you be going or shull I?”
“Well Delia deer” ses she meekly, “If you can make aven hash out of—nothing—c-cudent you just cuvver it over wid mashed pertaters and brown it in the uvven? It tastes diffruntly that way.”
“I’ll see about it” ses I.