"Look here," said Miss Fortune — "don't you let me hear no
more of that, or I vow I'll give you something to do you won't
like. Now, put the spoons here, and the knives and forks
together here; and carry the salt-cellar, and the pepper-box,
and the butter and the sugar into the buttery."
"I don't know where to put them," said Ellen.
"Come along then, and I'll show you; it's time you did. I
reckon you'll feel better when you've something to do, and you
shall have plenty. There, put them in that cupboard, and set
the butter up here, and put the bread in this box, do you see?
now don't let me have to show you twice over."
This was Ellen's first introduction to the buttery; she had
never dared go in there before. It was a long light closet or
pantry, lined on the left side, and at the further end, with
wide shelves up to the ceiling. On these shelves stood many
capacious pans and basins, of tin and earthenware, filled with
milk, and most of them coated with superb yellow cream. Midway
was the window, before which Miss Fortune was accustomed to
skim her milk; and at the side of it was the mouth of a wooden
pipe, or covered trough, which conveyed the refuse milk down
to an enormous hogshead standing at the lower kitchen door,
whence it was drawn as wanted for the use of the pigs. Beyond
the window in the buttery, and on the higher shelves were rows
of yellow cheeses; forty or fifty were there, at least.
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