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Home: The Toast

Jane Eyre is a book about a woman who hates feeling comfortable. Every meal that passes her lips is full of gravel and self-sufficiency. Sometimes she drinks tea, but more often than not she turns it down suspiciously, for what if within the tea someone had secretly placed the bonds of servitude?? Here is every meal she begrudgingly eats before running away into the hills.

A Bun And Someone Said Something Nice To Me And I Treasured It All The Days Of My Life
“Sometimes she would come up in the interval to seek her thimble or her scissors, or perhaps to bring me something by way of supper—a bun or a cheese-cake—then she would sit on the bed while I ate it, and when I had finished, she would tuck the clothes round me, and twice she kissed me, and said, ‘Good night, Miss Jane.’”

I Reject Your Vain Fripperies And Decadent Tarts
“This precious vessel was now placed on my knee, and I was cordially invited to eat the circlet of delicate pastry upon it. Vain favour! coming, like most other favours long deferred and often wished for, too late! I could not eat the tart; and the plumage of the bird, the tints of the flowers, seemed strangely faded: I put both plate and tart away.”

Surprise Bread
“A little before dark I passed a farm-house, at the open door of which the farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread and cheese. I stopped and said:

‘Will you give me a piece of bread? for I am very hungry.’ He cast on me a glance of surprise; but without answering, he cut a thick slice from his loaf, and gave it to me. I imagine he did not think I was a beggar, but only an eccentric sort of lady, who had taken a fancy to his brown loaf. As soon as I was out of sight of his house, I sat down and ate it.”

Toast With No Fever In
“Hannah had brought me some gruel and dry toast, about, as I supposed, the dinner-hour. I had eaten with relish: the food was good—void of the feverish flavour which had hitherto poisoned what I had swallowed.”

Some Permission
“It is well for you that a low fever has forced you to abstain for the last three days: there would have been danger in yielding to the cravings of your appetite at first. Now you may eat, though still not immoderately.”

Potato Indifference
“The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely more appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast: the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose a strong steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist of indifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together. Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was apportioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered within myself whether every day’s fare would be like this.”

Fragment Rejection
“When it came to my turn, I drank, for I was thirsty, but did not touch the food, excitement and fatigue rendering me incapable of eating: I now saw, however, that it was a thin oaten cake shared into fragments.”

Insufficient Milk And Restraint
“I tasted what they offered me: feebly at first, eagerly soon. ‘Not too much at first – restrain her,’ said the brother; ‘she has had enough.’ And he withdrew the cup of milk and the plate of bread.”

The Bible And Self-Denial
“I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart: and when you ask him which he would rather have, a gingerbread-nut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, he says: ‘Oh! the verse of a Psalm! angels sing Psalms.'”

No-Thank-You Boiled Milk
“Bessie, having pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper and put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse and bonnet, and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the nursery.”

Eating Berries While Pretending To Be A Monk To Make Hunger And Desperation Feel Like A Game
“I saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and there, like jet beads in the heath: I gathered a handful and ate them with the bread. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, appeased by this hermit’s meal.”

Unburnt Not-Enoughs
“Breakfast-time came at last, and this morning the porridge was not burnt; the quality was eatable, the quantity small.”

Lying About Tea
“You must want your tea,” said the good lady, as I joined her; “you ate so little at dinner. I am afraid,” she continued, “you are not well to-day: you look flushed and feverish.”

“Oh, quite well! I never felt better.”

Thinking About Bread-Rinds
“Once more I took off my handkerchief—once more I thought of the cakes of bread in the little shop. Oh, for but a crust!”

Bible Hallucinations
“‘She will have nothing to eat: you will starve her,’ observed Adèle.

‘I shall gather manna for her morning and night: the plains and hillsides in the moon are bleached with manna, Adèle.'”

Surprise Pig-Porridge
“At the door of a cottage I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold porridge into a pig trough. ‘Will you give me that?’ I asked.”

Faugh
“Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted.”

Half Of Uncake
“Almost desperate, I asked for half a cake; she again refused.”

I Can’t Eat A Penny, I’m Not A Robot
“‘A penny cannot feed me, and I have no strength to go farther. Don’t shut the door:—oh, don’t, for God’s sake!'”

The Crust Of Poverty
“I am obscure: Rivers is an old name; but of the three sole descendants of the race, two earn the dependant’s crust among strangers.”

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