Her new sensations seemed to exclude the remembrance of her grief.

At last, after tasting the porridge, she broke silence: "Ye might ha' made the parridge worse," she said to Dinah; "I can ate it wi'out its turnin' my stomach.

It might ha' been a trifle thicker an' no harm, an' I allays putten a sprig o' mint in mysen; but how's ye t' know that?
The lads arena like to get folks as 'll make their parridge as I'n made it for 'em; it's well if they get onybody as 'll make parridge at all.

But ye might do, wi' a bit o' showin'; for ye're a stirrin' body in a mornin', an' ye've a light heel, an' ye've cleaned th' house well enough for a ma'shift." "Makeshift, mother ?" said Adam.

"Why, I think the house looks beautiful.
I don't know how it could look better." "Thee dostna know?
Nay; how's thee to know?
Th' men ne'er know whether the floor's cleaned or cat-licked.