"The worst of it was that she stuffed it with sawdust, and oakum, and jovanna, I do believe, by the smell of it."
"What do you mean, Mrs. Shelfer?"
"Lor, Miss Valence, don't you know jovanna that the kingfishers lays on the top of the sea, and the gardeners make water with it?"
"And what did she do with your feathers?"
"Sneaked them out of the house in the crown of her bonnet, and sold them at eightpence a pound, and they worth three and sixpence, every flue of them. But the rag and bottleman got two months, thank God for it. Ah, it will never be a bed again under 5*l.* at least."
"Is it the one I sleep on, Mrs. Shelfer?"
"Yes, my good friend, the very same."
"And you have put me to sleep on guano! Well, I thought it smelt very odd."
"No, no, my good friend, wait a bit. We got most of that out again, and gave it to our geraniums. She stole it out of a sack as Charley kept in the washhouse. There was feathers in it. That put it into her head, I suppose. But as for your going, Miss Valence, that will never do. Never, never. Will it now, Miss Idols? And to see her dress, to be sure, that baggage! Why, my best tarlatan, as dear Miss Minto give me to be married in, wasn't good enough for her to sweep the stairs in. Sweep the stairs--yes, yes, she did sweep the stairs when I see her last; and she had afore, I know; she was so clever at it; and that was why one leg was so much more than the other."
"Mrs. Shelfer, do you expect us to listen to you all night?"