My lady’s tongue is like the meadow blades, That cut you stroking them with idle hand. Nice cutting is her function: she divides With spiritual edge the millet-seed, And makes intangible savings. As Mr.
Casaubon’s carriage was passing out of the gateway, it arrested the entrance of a pony phaeton driven by a lady with a servant seated behind. It was doubtful whether the recognition had been mutual, for Mr.
Casaubon was looking absently before him; but the lady was quick-eyed, and threw a nod and a 'How do you do? ' in the nick of time.
In spite of her shabby bonnet and very old Indian shawl, it was plain that the lodge-keeper regarded her as an important personage, from the low curtsy which was dropped on the entrance of the small phaeton. 'Well, Mrs. Fitchett, how are your fowls laying now?
' said the high-colored, dark-eyed lady, with the clearest chiselled utterance. 'Pretty well for laying, madam, but they’ve ta’en to eating their eggs: I’ve no peace o’ mind with ’em at all. ' 'Oh, the cannibals! Better sell them cheap at once.
What will you sell them a couple? One can’t eat fowls of a bad character at a high price. ' 'Well, madam, half-a-crown: I couldn’t let ’em go, not under. ' 'Half-a-crown, these times! Come now—for the Rector’s chicken-broth on a Sunday.
He has consumed all ours that I can spare. You are half paid with the sermon, Mrs. Fitchett, remember that. Take a pair of tumbler-pigeons for them—little beauties. You must come and see them. You have no tumblers among your pigeons.
' 'Well, madam, Master Fitchett shall go and see ’em after work. He’s very hot on new sorts; to oblige you. ' 'Oblige me! It will be the best bargain he ever made. A pair of church pigeons for