[Domestic Manners of the Americans by Fanny Trollope]@TWC D-Link book
Domestic Manners of the Americans

CHAPTER 12
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Strong, indeed, must be the love of equality in an English breast if it can survive a tour through the Union.
There was one house in the village which was remarkable from its wretchedness.

It had an air of indecent poverty about it, which long prevented my attempting an entrance; but at length, upon being told that I could get chicken and eggs there whenever I wanted them, I determined upon venturing.

The door being opened to my knock, I very nearly abandoned my almost blunted purpose; I never beheld such a den of filth and misery: a woman, the very image of dirt and disease, held a squalid imp of a baby on her hip bone while she kneaded her dough with her right fist only A great lanky girl, of twelve years old, was sitting on a barrel, gnawing a corn cob; when I made known my business, the woman answered, "No not I; I got no chickens to sell, nor eggs neither; but my son will, plenty I expect.

Here Nick," (bawling at the bottom of a ladder), "here's an old woman what wants chickens." Half a moment brought Nick to the bottom of the ladder, and I found my merchant was one of a ragged crew, whom I had been used to observe in my daily walk, playing marbles in the dust, and swearing lustily; he looked about ten years old.
"Have you chicken to sell, my boy ?" "Yes, and eggs too, more nor what you'll buy." Having enquired price, condition, and so on, I recollected that I had been used to give the same price at market, the feathers plucked, and the chicken prepared for the table, and I told him that he ought not to charge the same.
"Oh for that, I expect I can fix 'em as well as ever them was, what you got in market." "You fix them ?" "Yes to be sure, why not ?" "I thought you were too fond of marbles." He gave me a keen glance, and said, "You don't know I .-- When will you be wanting the chickens ?" He brought them at the time directed, extremely well "fixed," and I often dealt with him afterwards.

When I paid him, he always thrust his hand into his breaches pocket, which I presume, as being _the keep_, was fortified more strongly than the dilapidated outworks, and drew from thence rather more dollars, half-dollars, levies, and fips, than his dirty little hand could well hold.


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