Oh wirrah! wirrah! wirrah! Its a sad and loansome warld and its a trecherus snake is Minnie.
Yesterday me hart was full of feers. Its menny an effort I made to relave mesilf to Miss Claire, but for pity for the puir yung creachure me tung refused to spake.
Last nite was a nite of shocks. Mr. John cum down to the bastemint and taks possisshun after dinner of me privat dining-rume. The widder do be giving him a barskit full of seeds, frish picked from her gardin, and he’s after wanting he ses to sort thim out and mark the reyspictiv packages so he may know them nixt Spring whin hes going to have a fine gardin.
Miss Claire cum into me kitchin, wid her bloo eyes swimming wid teers.
“What will we do, Delia?” ses she, “John is in the dining-room to-nite, and I cant get him out.”
“Now don’t you be after wurriting darlint” ses I, “Shure Mr. Harry is wilcam to me kitchin.”
“But John may walk in upon us” ses she despritly.
“He’d better not” ses I, and wid that I wint to the dure and called out to Mr. John:
“Will ye be good enuff to kape your disthance from me kitchin to-nite, as its private company I’m expicting.”
“Very well Delia” ses he perlitely.
I wint outside to the bastemint dure, and wated in person for Mr. Harry. When he arrived, I tauld him the state of things, and he slipped into me kitchen. Miss Claire were sitting on me table, her little feet swinging in the air.
“Good avening” ses she, trying to smile and look chareful “Ye’ll obsarve” ses she “the extrames to which we are driven. John holds the fort to-nite.”
Mr. Harry is haulding her hands as she spakes, and watching her face like he wad ate her up.
“Had I better go thin?” ses he.
“O, if you want to” ses she, slipping down from the table, and turning away from him a bit.
“Want to!” ses he, “You don’t meen that!”
“No” ses she, saftly, “I—I don’t.”
I thot the yung lad wud grab her, but joost thin he seen me and kept still.
Miss Claire sayses hauld of a frying pan.
“Never mind” ses she “We’ll enjoy oursilves aven in the kitchen? You’ve never tasted me famiss fudge, have you Mr. Dudley?”
“No” ses he, looking at her pretty arms, as she rolled back the sleeves from thim.
“Well” ses she “I larned to make it in me Vassa days. Get me an aprun, Delia” ses she.
I brot her wan of her own—a little red gingum thin wid frills and pockits. She let him button it behind her, and he tuk so long she broke away larfing and blooshing.
“Now” ses she “You may help me. I want cream, sugar, butter and chocklett. A bit of vernilla too” ses she.
They set to work, busy and happy as childrun making mud pies. By and by the stuff was cooked, and she set him to mixing it, “and mix it stiff” ses she, “while I greese the pans.”
This dun, she took a spoon and scooping out a bit she hild it to his lips. He, not looking at the fudge, but wid his eyes fixed on her, opened his mouth and took in the spoon. Then he guv a yell and down drapped the spoon.
“Oh!” ses she, turning pail, “wuz it hot? Harry!” ses she, “I burned you!”
“You call me Harry!” ses he, and saysed hauld of her by the arms. I was watching wid all me eyes, whin I herd the dure squake a bit. Befure I cud move tords it Miss Claire roon oop aginst it and hild it closed wid her little hands.
“The china closet, Delia!” she wispered, and I shuvved Mr. Harry into the closet and banged the dure tite. Whin we let in Mr. John he looked about him.
“Whats the matter?” ses he, “Why did you hauld me out?”
“O” ses Miss Claire, gayly, “Its a game Delia and I are playing.”
He frowned and ses cauldly.
“Ye cud find bitter implyment I fancy than playing in the kitchen wid Delia. Your not a child Claire” ses he.
Shes about to spake in ansser whin the frunt dure bell run, and I saized me aprun and wint to ansser it, laving the yung peeple alone. As I reeched the upper flure, I seen Mr. Wolley turning on the lites in the hall. Then he opened the dure. A little auld gintleman wid wiskers on his cheeks and spats on his feet stud there.
“Good avening” ses he, “Mr. Wolley, I belave?”
I cud tell by Mr. Wolley’s back that his face was purple. He h............