Then there's the washing of the children; and the dreadful waste that goes on in the kitchen.

And Finch, he comes in without any notice, and wants his breakfast.

And of course I can't leave the baby.
And half an hour does slip away so easily, that how to overtake it again, I do assure you I really don't know." Here the baby began to exhibit symptoms of having taken more maternal nourishment than his infant stomach could comfortably contain.

I held the novel, while Mrs.Finch searched for her handkerchief--first in her bedgown pocket; secondly, here, there, and everywhere in the room.
At this interesting moment there was a knock at the door.

An elderly woman appeared--who offered a most refreshing contrast to the members of the household with whom I had made acquaintance thus far.