----Here is sad news, _Trim_, cried _Susannah_, wiping her eyes as _Trim_ stepp'd into the kitchen, --master _Bobby_ is dead and _buried_--the funeral was an interpolation of _Susannah's_--we shall have all to go into mourning, said _Susannah_.
I hope not, said _Trim_. --You hope not! cried _Susannah_ earnestly. --The mourning ran not in _Trim's_ head, whatever it did in _Susannah's_. --I hope--said _Trim_, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not true. --I heard the letter read with my own ears, answered _Obadiah_; and we shall have a terrible piece of work of it in stubbing the Ox-moor. --Oh! he's dead, said _Susannah_. --As sure, said the scullion, as I'm alive.

'Here is sad news, Trim,' cried Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim entered the kitchen. 'Master Bobby is dead and buried' - the funeral was an invention of Susannah's - 'and we shall all have to go into mourning.'
'I hope that the news is not true,' said Trim.
'I heard the letter read with my own ears,' answered Obadiah.
'Oh! he's dead,' said Susannah.
'As sure,' said the scullery-maid, 'as I'm alive.'
