|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
175 brought from the dairy, which Hareton seized and commenced drinking and spilling from the expansive lip. I expostulated, and desired that he should have his in a mug; affirming that I could not taste the liquid treated so dirtily. The old cynic chose to be vastly offended at this nicety; assuring me, repeatedly, that “the barn was every bit as gooid” as I, “and every bit as wollsome,” and wondering how I could fashion to be so conceited. Meanwhile, the infant ruffian continued sucking; and glowered up at me defyingly, as he slavered into the jug. “I shall have my supper in another room,” I said. “Have you no place you call a parlour?” “Parlour!” he echoed sneeringly, “parlour! Nay, we’ve noa parlours. If yah dunnut loike wer company, they’s maister’s; un if yah dunnut loike maister, they’s us.” “Then I shall go upstairs,” I answered; “show me a chamber.” I put my basin on a tray, and went myself to fetch some more milk. With great grumblings, the fellow rose, and preceded me in my ascent: we mounted to the garrets; he opening a door, now and then, to look into the apartments we passed. “Here’s a rahm,” he said, at last, flinging back a cranky board on hinges. “It’s weel eneugh tuh ate a few porridge in. They’s a pack uh corn i’ t’ corner, thear, meeterly clane; if yah’re feared uh muckying yer grand silk cloes, spread yer hankerchir ut t’ top on’t.” The “rahm” was a kind of lumber-hole smelling strong of malt and grain; various sacks of which articles were piled around, leaving a wide, bare space in the middle. “Why man!” I exclaimed, facing him angrily, “this is not a place |
