Now, the innocent Mrs. Sandboys, having never heard of such a style of bathing as the last mentioned, was naturally led to believe that the attendant alluded to nothing less than the unsettled state of the weather; so casting her eyes up to the skylight, she observed in reply, that she dare say they _would_ have a shower before long, adding, that it was just what country people wanted. “Perhaps, then, you wouldn’t object to that there, mum?” returned attendant, as she arranged the pile of towels in the cupboard. “Whya, as Ise here, I dunnet mind, if ’artsease be ow’r suin,” replied the simple-minded Mrs. Sandboys, still referring to the rain. “I dare say ’t’ull dui a power of guid to cwuntry fwoke.” “Oh, yes, mum! always does a vast deal of good, and is sure to be over in no time,” returned the bath-woman, still harping on her baths. In a few minutes the shower-bath was at liberty, and Mrs. Sandboys seated herself in a chair in the passage, while the attendant went to prepare the room for her use. Presently the woman returned with the heavy-looking wet towels of the departed bather in her hand, hanging down like paunches; letting them “flop” on the floor, she requested Mrs. Sandboys to follow her, as the room was quite ready. Mrs. Sandboys did as desired, and was shown into a small apartment, into which she was no sooner ushered than the attendant withdrew, saying, that if the lady wanted anything there was a bell and she would please to ring. The room was a small cabin-like apartment, with a narrow little bench against one side of it, while above this a few wooden hooks projected from the wall. A tiny “shaving-glass” hung against the partition, and the uncarpeted floor was dark-coloured with the drippings of the previous bathers. In one corner was what appeared at first sight to be a long upright cupboard, but which in reality was “the second-class” shower-bath. The door of this apparatus was placed wide open, and inside there stood a chair, while a small cord dangled from above. Mrs. Sandboys observing nothing that appeared to her primitive mind to bear the slightest resemblance to a bath in the room, conjectured that the hot water would be brought to her in a large pan immediately it was ready. Accordingly, she set to work to divest herself of her bonnet and cloak; and having arranged those articles on the bench, she proceeded, in her simplicity, to seat herself in the chair immediately under the shower-bath, in the corner of the little apartment, there to await the coming of the expected pan. Her patience endured the imaginary delay for some few minutes, but at length growing wearied of her solitary situation, she got angry at the non-appearance of the attendant, and starting from her seat, seized the cord which dangled above her head, and which she—poor innocent dame!—mistook for the bell-pull.