"OH, dear Mrs. Graham!" said my neighbour Mrs. Jones to me one day,"what shall I do for good help? I am almost worried out of mysenses. I wish somebody would invent a machine to cook, wash, scrub,and do housework in general. What a blessing it would be! As for thewhole tribe of flesh and blood domestics, they are not worth theirsalt."
"They are all poorly educated," I replied, "and we cannot expectmuch of them. Most of them have nearly every thing to learn whenthey come into our houses, and are bad scholars into the bargain.But we must have patience. I find it my only resource."
"Patience!" ejaculated Mrs. Jones, warmly. It would require morepatience than Job ever possessed to get along with some of them."
"And yet," said I, "we accomplish little or nothing by impatience.At least such is my experience."
"I don't know, ma'am," replied Mrs. Jones. "If you go to beinggentle and easy with them, if you don't follow them up at everypoint, you will soon have affairs in a pretty condition! They don'tcare a fig for your comfort nor interest--not they! In fact, morethan half of them would, a thousand times, rather make thingsdisagreeable for you than otherwise."
"I know they are a great trial, sometimes," I answered, not feelingat liberty to say to my (sic) visiter all I thought. "But we mustendeavour to bear it the best we can. That is my rule; and I find,in the long run, that I get on much better when I repress allexhibition of annoyance at their carelessness, short-comings,neglect, or positive misdeeds, than I do when I let them see that Iam annoyed, or exhibit the slightest angry feeling."
Not long after this, we accepted an invitation to take tea with Mr.and Mrs. Jones, and I then had an opportunity of seeing how sheconducted herself towards her domestics. I was in no way surprised,afterwards, that she found difficulty in getting along withservants.
Soon after my husband and myself went in, and while we were sittingin the parlour, Mrs. Jones had occasion to call a servant. I noticedthat, when she rung the bell, she did so with a quick jerk; and Icould perceive a tone of authority in the ting-a-ling of the bell,the sound of which was distinctly heard. Nearly two minutes passedbefore the servant made her appearance, in which time the bellreceived a more vigorous jerk. At last she entered, looking flushedand hurried.
"What's the reason you did not come when I first rung?" inquired ourlady hostess, in a severe tone.
"I--I--came as quick as I could," replied the girl, with a look ofmortification at being spoken to before strangers.
"No, you didn't! It's your custom to wait until I ring twice. Nowlet this be the last time!"
And then, in a low voice, Mrs. Jones gave the direction for whichshe had summoned her.
"Such a set!" ejaculated the lady, as the girl left the room. Herwords were intended to reach other ears besides ours; and so theydid. "That girl," she continued, addressing me, "has a habit ofmaking me ring twice. It really seems to give them pleasure, Ibelieve, to annoy you. Ah, me! this trouble with servants is a neverending one. It meets you at every turn."
And, for some time, she animadverted upon her favourite theme--forsuch it appeared to be,--until her husband, who was evidentlyannoyed, managed to change the subject of discourse. Once or twiceshe came back to it before tea-time.
At last the tea bell rung, and we ascended to the dining-room. Wewere but fairly seated, when a frown darkened suddenly on the browof our hostess, and her hand applied itself nervously to thetable-bell.
The girl who had set the table came up from the kitchen.
"There is no sugar in the bowl," said Mrs. Jones sharply. "I wishyou would learn to set the table while you are about it. I'm sure Ihave spoken to you often enough."
As the girl took the sugar-bowl to fill it, the frown left the faceof our hostess, and she turned to me with a bland smile, and askedwhether I used sugar and cream in my tea. I replied in theaffirmative; but did not smile in return, for I could not. I knewthe poor girl's feelings were hurt at being spoken to in such a waybefore strangers, and this made me extremely uncomfortable.
"Do you call this cream?" was the angry interrogation of Mrs. Jones,as the girl returned with the sugar, pushing towards her thecream-jug, which she had lifted from the table as she spoke.
"Yes, ma'am," was replied.
"Look at it, and see, then."
"It's the cream," said the girl.
"If that's cream, I never want to see milk. Here! take it away andbring me the cream."
The girl looked confused and distressed. But she took the cream-jugand went down-stairs with it.
"That's just the way they always do!" said Mrs. Jones; leaning backin her chair. "I really get out of all patience, sometimes."
In a little while the girl returned.
"It's the cream, ma'am, as I said. Here's the milk." And shepresented two vessels.
Mrs. Jones took both from her hands with an ill-natured jerk. Sureenough, it was as the girl had said.
"Such cream!" fell from the lips of our hostess, as she commencedpouring it into the cups already filled with tea.
The girl went down-stairs to take back the milk she had brought up,but she was scarcely at the bottom of the stairs, when the bell wasrung for her.
"Why don't you stay here? What are you running off about?" said Mrs.Jones, as she came in hurriedly. "You know I want you to wait on thetable."
And so it was during the whole meal. The girl was not once spoken toexcept in a tone of anger or offensive authority.
I was no longer surprised that Mrs. Jones found it difficult to keepgood domestics, for no one of feeling can long remain with a womanwho speaks to them always in a tone of command, or who reproves themin the presence of visitors.
My husband was very severe upon Mrs. Jones after we returned home."No lady," said he, "ever spoke in anger or reproof to a domesticbefore a visitor or stranger. Nothing more surely evinces a vulgarand unfeeling mind."
I did not attempt to gainsay his remark, for he expressed but my ownsentiment. So far from uttering a reproof in the presence of avisitor, I am careful not to speak to my domestics about any faulteven in the presence of my husband. They have a certain respect forthemselves, and a certain delicacy of feeling, which we shouldrather encourage than break down. Nearly all domestics are carefulto appear as well as possible in the eyes of the head of the family,and it hurts them exceedingly to be reproved, or angrily spoken to,before him. This every woman ought to know by instinct, and thosewho do not are just so far deficient in the aggregate of qualitiesthat go to make up the true lady.
I was by no means surprised to hear from Mrs. Jones, a few daysafterwards, that the "good-for-nothing creature" who waited upon thetable on the occasion of our taking tea at her house, had gone awayand left her. I thought better of the girl for having the spirit toresent, in this way, the outrage committed upon her feelings.Domestics have rights and feelings; and if people were to regardthese more, and treat them with greater kindness and considerationthan they do, there would be fewer complaints than there are atpresent. This is my opinion, and I must be pardoned for expressingit.
THE END.
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