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“
No
.
”
“
Tha
’
doesn
’
t
know
how
good
it
is
.
Put
a
bit
o
’
treacle
on
it
or
a
bit
o
’
sugar
.
”
“
I
don
’
t
want
it
,
”
repeated
Mary
.
“
Eh
!
”
said
Martha
.
“
I
can
’
t
abide
to
see
good
victuals
go
to
waste
.
If
our
children
was
at
this
table
they
’
d
clean
it
bare
in
five
minutes
.
”
“
Why
?
”
said
Mary
coldly
.
“
Why
!
”
echoed
Martha
.
“
Because
they
scarce
ever
had
their
stomachs
full
in
their
lives
.
They
’
re
as
hungry
as
young
hawks
an
’
foxes
.
”
“
I
don
’
t
know
what
it
is
to
be
hungry
,
”
said
Mary
,
with
the
indifference
of
ignorance
.
Martha
looked
indignant
.
“
Well
,
it
would
do
thee
good
to
try
it
.
I
can
see
that
plain
enough
,
”
she
said
outspokenly
.
“
I
’
ve
no
patience
with
folk
as
sits
an
’
just
stares
at
good
bread
an
’
meat
.
My
word
!
don
’
t
I
wish
Dickon
and
Phil
an
’
Jane
an
’
th
’
rest
of
’
em
had
what
’
s
here
under
their
pinafores
.
”
