The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 99: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

90 THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. ‘No, Tim.” ‘¢No! how hast thee come by dinner then? Clock,”’ he added, “ be in t’old place, and chairs and tables all right ; what’s agate, wench?” “Never thee mind, eat dinner while it be hot; it be long enough since thee or children have had one.” In his way Tim was a philosopher: the cravings of an empty stomach told him that Meg’s advice was sound ; and, amid the longing looks of the children, and an uneasy glance from his wife, he stuck his fork into the smoking dish before him. Off went a diagonal piece of the substantial-looking crust, and a rich stream of odorous gravy impregnated the room. The looks of the children became ravenous. ““What’s this, Meg?’ demanded Tim, raising a morsel of some dislocated animal upon his fork, and holding it up to the light with a doubtful look. *“ It be rabbit, ‘Tim,” coolly replied his wife. The fork dropped from his hand—a fearful idea struck him. Without a word he rose from his chair, rushed into the yard, and made a careful survey of the hutches. All was right—not a long-eared inmate missing. In afew minutes he returned, with a smiling face, and resumed his seat. “Meg, Meg!’ he exclaimed with a smile, as he again stuck his fork into the savoury pie; “ but thee hast given mea turn! I could as soon have eaten one of the childer, as one of my own rabbits!” COniiclooecl SS (SO