This meal is sold at a penny a pound. He stopped at
another cottage and said, "Here's a house where I always find them
reading when I call. I know the people very well." He knocked and
tried the latch, but there was nobody in. As we passed an open door,
the pleasant smell of oatcake baking came suddenly upon me. It woke
up many memories of days gone by. I saw through the window a stout,
meal-dusted old woman, busy with her wooden ladle and baking-shovel
at a brisk oven. "Now, I should like to look in there for a minute
or two, if it can be done," said I. "Well," replied my friend, "this
woman is not on our books; she gets her own living in the way you
see. But come in; it will be all right; I know her very well." I was
glad of that, for I wanted to have a chat with her, and to peep at
the baking. "Good morning, Missis," said he; "how are you?" "Why,
just in a middlin' way." "How long is this wet weather going to
last, think you?" "Nay, there ye hev me fast;--but what brings ye
here this mornin'?" said the old woman, resting the end of her ladle
on the little counter; "I never trouble sic like chaps as ye.
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