Ellen felt a little as if she had not quite slept
off the remembrance of yesterday's fatigue; however, that was
no matter, she set to work. She swept up the kitchen, got her
milk-strainer and pans ready upon the buttery shelf, and began
to set the table. By the time this was half done, in came Sam
Larkens with two great pails of milk, and Johnny Low followed
with another. They were much too heavy for Ellen to lift, but
true to her charge, she let no one come into the buttery but
herself; she brought the pans to the door, where Sam filled
them for her, and as each was done she set it in its place on
the shelf. This took some time, for there were eight of them.
She had scarce wiped up the spilt milk and finished setting
the table, when Mr. Van Brunt came in.
"Good morning!" said he. "How d'ye do to-day?"
"Very well, Mr. Van Brunt."
"I wish you'd look a little redder in the face. Don't you be
too busy. Where's Nancy?"
"Oh, she's busy, out with the clothes."
"Same as ever upstairs? — What are you going to do for
breakfast, Ellen?"
"I don't know, Mr. Van Brunt; there isn't anything cooked in
the house; we have eaten everything up."
"Cleaned out, eh? Bread and all?"
"Oh, no, not bread; there's plenty of that, but there's
nothing else."
"Well never mind; — you bring me a ham and a dozen of eggs,
and I'll make you a first-rate breakfast.
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