A Grandmother's Recollections by Ella Rodman
page 122 of 135 (90%)
page 122 of 135 (90%)
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as even philosophers are not exempt from the earth-born love of good
things, out rushed our student with a polite request that Venus would "allow him to taste the trash, and see if it was fit to be sent to Mrs. Chesbury." A scuffle ensued, in which Fred succeeded in satisfying his curiosity; and with considerably ruffled plumage, and not in the sweetest state of mind, Venus proceeded up stairs. Fred slyly followed; and peeping through the key-hole of a door that opened into my grandmother's room, he determined to watch the progress of the feast. Things looked very tempting, and he had half a mind to petition for a seat at the table; but he began to think that, even should he succeed in his request, a _seat_ would be all he could gain; for the old lady attacked the eatables very much in the style of a school-boy just come home for the holidays. The frizzled beef rapidly disappeared, till the bottom of the dish was scarcely covered; but suddenly ceasing her attacks upon it, my grandmother took the dish in her hand, and pointing to some black substance, interrogated the colored girl in accents of mingled doubt and horror. "Why Venus, come here! What--what--what _is_ this?" "Why, la, Missus!" exclaimed Venus, while every feature brightened with joyful surprise, "If there ain't my little comb, what I lost in the scuffle with Master Fred! Who would have thought to find it here!" "Who, indeed!" ejaculated the old lady, in a voice scarcely audible. My grandmother did not leave her room that evening, and we were told that she was ill; while it is scarcely necessary to add that Fred never again interfered with any of Venus' cookeries. When repeating the story, he always dwelt upon the ridiculous tableau presented by the horrified |
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