About me: up my dinner. I sat down for a moment. I knew full
well that come bedtime Cook would relent, "I
spose I better have a suck or you won’t get
no sleep and be like a sore with a bare head in
morning." she usually opined, between regular
disappearances to check on her baking. Some time
later she came to find me, "Why don’t
you buy an ‘ore?" she asked.
"Disease, Cook, Disease." I explained.
"Then get a pure ‘un, some gentlewoman
fell on hard times," she suggested. "Oh
wonderful, shall I advertise in
