n an answer, I told him I certainly shouldn't care to eat 'em
less'n they _was_ dead, and from then on it was worse 'n ever.

"He said that no dead animal was goin' to be interred in the insides of
him or his lawful wife, an' he was goin' to see to it. It come out then
that he'd never tasted meat an' hadn't rightly sensed what he was
missin'.

"Well, my dear, some women would have took the wrong tack an' would have
argyfied with him. There's never no use in argyfyin' with a husband, an'
never no need to, 'cause if you're set on it, there's all the rest of the
world to choose from. When he'd talked himself hoarse an' was beginnin' to
calm down again, I took the floor.

"'Say no more,' says I, calm an' collected-like. 'This here is your house
an' the things you're accustomed to eatin' can be cooked in it, no matter
what they be. If I don't know how to put the slops together, I reckon I
can learn, not being a plum idjit. If you want baked chicken feed and
boiled hay, I'm here to bake 'em and boil 'em for you. All you have to do
is to speak once in a polite manner and it'll be done. I must insist on
the politeness, howsumever,' says I. 'I don't propose to live with any man
what gets the notion a woman ceases to be a lady when she marries him. A
creeter that thinks so poor of himself as that ain't fit to be my
husband,' says I, 'nor no other decent woman's.'

"At that he apologised some, an' when a husband apologises, my dear, it's
the same as if he'd et dirt at your feet. 'The least said the soonest
mended,' says I, an' after that, he never had nothin' to complain of.

"But I knowed what his poor, cranky system needed, an' I knowed how to get
it into him, especially as he'd never tasted meat in all his life. From
that time on, he never saw no meat on our table, nor no chickens, nor sea
scavengers, nor nothin', but all day, while he was gone, I was busy with
my soup pot, a-makin' condensed extracts of meat for flavourin' vegetables
an' sauces an' so on.

"He took mightily to my cookin' an' frequently said he'd never et such
exquisite victuals. I'd make cream soups for him, an' in every one,
there'd be over a cupful of solid meat jelly, as rich as the juice you
find in the pan when you cook a first-class roast of beef. I'd stew
potatoes in veal stock, and cook rice slow in water that had had a chicken
boiled to rags in it. Once I put a cupful of raw beef juice in a can of
tomatoes I was cookin' and he et a'most all of 'e