"There h'aint so much as if t'was any other day. You see, yesterday it was Sunday."
"Oh well! what have we got, Betsey? I know you have got something."
"There's bread, Miss h'Esther."
"We want more than bread. And butter, and tea and coffee and all that. We must have something more, Betsey. What have you got?"
"The chickens is nothing left of 'em; and that 'am bone h'aint got much on it. I do think, Miss Maggie, ye consume a great deal in the woods!"
"Of course we do. And we want a good, hearty lunch to-day, because the boys and Uncle Eden will have a long way to row. Come, Betsey, make haste."
"There h'aint a living thing in the 'ouse, but h'oysters, and h'eggs, and potatoes. That is, nothing cooked. And ye want dressed meat."
"Oysters?" said Maggie doubtfully.
"Capital," said Esther. "And sweet potatoes. We can bake them in the ashes. And eggs are good. Meredith will make us another friar's omelet."
"There's nothing else for ye," said Betsey, summing up.