There are no cows like ours, missie--their milk is a proverb hereabouts; there are no hens like ours for laying all the year round; there are no roses like ours.

And there's always a friendly feeling in this house, and always has been.

'Tis not a house for wrangling and jangling, and sharp words.

The 'good people' can't stand that.

Nothing drives them away like ill-temper or anger." Griselda's conscience gave her a sharp prick.