Never could I have believed that such a variety of dishes could have been produced out of mutton.
In fact we seemed to have everything at table except the staple dish.
Unlike the cook who actually sent me in a roast shoulder of mutton for breakfast one morning, Isabella prided herself on eliminating the monotonous animal from her bills of fare.

Certainly she was rather heavy on the sauces, etc., and I was trying to pluck up courage to remonstrate, as it would not be easy or cheap to replace them before a certain time of year.

And then she was so clean, so smiling, and so good-tempered.

She seemed to treat us all as if we were a parcel of children for whom she was never weary of preparing surprises.

As for me, I felt miserable if any shepherd or well-to-do handsome young bachelor cockatoo came near the place, dreading lest the wretch should have designs on my cook's heart and hand.