and mark my words

Reading all this in his manner, she had the delicacy to forbear intruding upon him questions to which she saw it would only give him pain to reply.   Not so Aunt Rachel.   "I needn't ask," she began, "whether you've got work, Timothy. I knew beforehand you wouldn't. There ain't no use in tryin'! The times is awful dull, and mark my words, they'll be wuss before they're better. We mayn't live to see 'em. I don't expect we shall. Folks can't live without money; and if we can't get that, we shall have to starve."   "Not so bad as that, Rachel," said the cooper, trying to look cheerful; "I don't talk about starving till the time comes. Anyhow," glancing at the table, on which was spread a good plain meal, "we needn't talk about starving till to-morrow with that before us. Where's Jack?"   "Gone after some flour," replied his wife.   "On credit?" asked the cooper.   "No, he's got money enough to pay for a few pounds," said Mrs. Harding, smiling with an air of mystery.   "Where did it come from?" asked Timothy, who was puzzled, as his wife anticipated. "I didn't know you had any money in the house."   "No more we had; but he earned it himself, holding horses, this afternoon."   "Come, that's good," said the cooper, cheerfully. "We ain't so bad off as we might be, you see, Rachel."   "Very likely the bill's bad," she said, with the air of one who rather hoped it was.