"Those rooms ain't so bad as New York rooms go; but it does seem funny, don't it, to cook in the same kitchen with a lot of strangers you never laid eyes on befo'?
I br'iled some chops for the children right alongside of an old maid who had come all the way up from New Orleans to study music--imagine, at her age! Why, she couldn't be a day under fifty! And on the other side there was the mother of a girl who's at the art school, or whatever you call it, where they teach you paintin'.

They are from somewhere up yonder in New England and their home folks had sent 'em a pumpkin pie.

She gave me a slice of it, but I never did think much of pumpkin.

It can't hold a candle to sweet potato pudding, and I wouldn't let the children touch it for fear it might set too heavy in the night.

I ain't got much use for Yankee food, nohow." "I hope the place is perfectly sanitary," was Gabriella's anxious rejoinder.