I dreaded it. I have always been afraid of her, and I knew that if she
began to argue I should be expected to take what my wife calls a firm
line, and that is always most uncomfortable. I wanted to have her up to
my study, so that I should have the moral support of encyclopædias and
things that she doesn't understand; but my wife was convinced that I
ought to mark the importance of the occasion by presenting myself in the
kitchen. I hadn't been down that stair for months and months. All this
happened weeks ago, when the DEVONPORT rations were proposed....

I took my stand with my back to the fire, conscious of a listening
kitchen-maid behind the scullery door, and after asking if the range
continued to give satisfaction I opened on the general question of
submarines. But Cook had the better of me there. I had forgotten that
she has a son on a submarine. I spoke of the serious position of the
country, and Cook cheerfully assented. (For her part she often said to
Jane that we were goin' 'eadlong into trouble.) I spoke, in general
terms, of economy, and found we were in complete agreement. ("Only last
night I says to Jane, 'Waste not, want not' must be our motter.") Then I
announced the amount of the DEVONPORT rations and repeated them twice
most impressively. Cook appeared to be going through a number of swift
professional calculations. ("Six times four is twenty-four, and six
times two-and-three-quarters is--m--m--m--m--carry one--is sixteen and
a-half, but syrup might do for the batter.") Well, Sir, she would try.
She would keep a book, "and every hounce that came into this house--be
it rabbit or be it liver--shall be put down."

I was so pleased with her attitude that I allowed myself to be carried
away rather, and we agreed before the conference ended that we would try
to improve upon Lord DEVONPORT if it was possible. Cook, as I left her,
impressed me as an heroic figure, facing a grim future with a high