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Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn, 1810-1865

"Mary Barton"

' I were anxious to make him comfortable, God
knows how anxious. And yet I'd no notion how to cook a potato. I
know'd they were boiled, and know'd their skins were taken off, and
that were all. So I tidied my house in a rough kind o' way, then I
looked at that very clock up yonder,"--pointing at one that hung
against the wall--"and I seed it were nine o'clock, so, thinks I,
th' potatoes shall be well boiled at any rate, and I gets 'em on th'
fire in a jiffy (that's to say, as soon as I could peel 'em, which
were a tough job at first), and then I fell to unpacking my boxes!
and at twenty minutes past twelve, he comes home, and I had the beef
ready on th' table, and I went to take the potatoes out o' th' pot;
but oh! Mary, th' water had boiled away, and they were all a nasty
brown mess, as smelt through all the house. He said nought, and
were very gentle; but oh! Mary, I cried so that afternoon. I shall
ne'er forget it; no, never. I made many a blunder at after, but
none that fretted me like that."
"Father does not like girls to work in factories," said Mary.


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