'Fifteen minutes late,' said Mrs Harding severely, as she entered the kitchen. 'You'll hev to be extry spry to make up. There's pertaters to be fried, an' the children's lunches to put up, an' John Alexander's lost his jography--I believe that boy'd lose his head if it twarn't glued to his shoulders. There's a button off Stephen's collar, an' Susan Ann wants her hair curled, an' Polly's frettin' to be taken up. It beats me how that child does fret--I believe I'll put her to sleep with you after this--I'm that beat out I can hardly stand.'