I've Never Had the Safer of Mine, Said My Sister

My sister had a trench in way of cutting our bread and butter for us, and they were buried. She jammed the loaf hard and fast against her bib where it sometimes got a pin into it,. Then she took some butter, not too much, on a knife, and spread it on the low, as if she were making an apothecary kind of way. I felt that I must have something reserved for my dreadful acquaintance, and his ally, the still more dreadful young man. The effort of resolution necessary to the achievement of this purpose was quite awful. It was as if I had to make up my mind to leap from the top of a high house, or plunge into