Next mornin', or rather next noon, down to breakfast.

Oh, it's awfully stupid! That second nap in the mornin' always fuddles the head, and makes it as mothery as ryled cyder grounds.

Nobody looks as sweet as sugar candy quite, except them two beautiful galls and their honey lips.

But them is only to look at.

If you want honey, there is some on a little cut glass, dug out of a dish.