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The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not read more
The poor man will praise it so hath he good cause,
That all the year eats neither partridge not quail,
But sets up his rest and makes up his feast,
With a crust of brown bread and a pot of good ale.
"Here, dearest Eve," he exclaims, "here is food." "Well,"
answered she, with the germ of a housewife stirring within read more
"Here, dearest Eve," he exclaims, "here is food." "Well,"
answered she, with the germ of a housewife stirring within her,
"we have been so busy to-day that a picked-up dinner must serve."
Ratons and myse and soche smale dere
That was his mete that vii. yere.
Ratons and myse and soche smale dere
That was his mete that vii. yere.
I want every peasant to have a chicken in his pot on Sundays.
[Fr., Je veux que le dimanche read more
I want every peasant to have a chicken in his pot on Sundays.
[Fr., Je veux que le dimanche chaque paysan ait sa poule au pot.]
And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but
an handful of meal read more
And she said, As the Lord thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but
an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse:
and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and
dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.
Ye diners out from whom we guard our spoons.
Ye diners out from whom we guard our spoons.
Bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat
and drink that they may live.
Bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat
and drink that they may live.
Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet read more
Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike; make not a
City feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the
first place; sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.
"Good, well-dress'd turtle beats them hollow,--
It almost makes me wish, I vow,
To have two stomachs, read more
"Good, well-dress'd turtle beats them hollow,--
It almost makes me wish, I vow,
To have two stomachs, like a cow!"
And lo! as with the cud, an inward thrill
Upheaved his waistcoat and disturb'd his frill,
His mouth was oozing, and he work'd his jaw--
"I almost that that I could eat one raw."