Don't cry, dear, but just exert yourself a bit, and fix us up something to eat.

We're both as hungry as hunters, so we shan't mind what it is.

Give us the cold meat, and bread and cheese.

We won't ask for jelly." He meant it to be a good-natured joke, but that one word sealed his fate.

Meg thought it was too cruel to hint about her sad failure, and the last atom of patience vanished as he spoke.
"You must get yourself out of the scrape as you can.