There are two separate and significantly different versions of this text. This is the non-illustrated British magazine version. #15817 is the illustrated American novel publication.
slice of dry toast, one egg, fruit and a small cup of coffee, no sugar, no cream." And me with two Jersey cows full of the richest cream in Hillsboro, out in my meadow!
"Dinner, one small lean chop, slice of toast, spinach or lettuce salad. No dessert or sweet." My poultry-yard is full of fat little chickens, and I wish I were a sheep if I have to eat lettuce and spinach for grass. At least I'd have more than one chop inside me then.
"Supper--slice of toast and an apple." Why the apple? Why supper at all?
Oh, I'm hungry, hungry until I cry in my sleep when I dream about a muffin! I thought at first that getting out of bed before my eyes are fairly open, and turning myself into a circus acrobat by doing every kind of overhand, foot, arm and leg contortion that the mind of cruel man could invent to torture a human being with, would kill me before I had been at it a week, but when I read on page sixteen that as soon as all that horror was over I must jump right into the tub of cold water, I kicked, meta