With what joy did the masculine housekeeper and steward greet the return of his capable wife, and resign his position as turnkey! Poll, upon liberation from restraint, flew swiftly away like any other bird from its cage. Notwithstanding such heavy weather overhead and exceeding dirty under foot our Poll after breakfast went to see the soldiers that came as prisoners belonging to Burgoynes army. Our trull returned this morning. Her mistress gave her a good sound whipping. This latter was a variety. And so the unequal fight went on; Poll calmly breaking down a portion of the fence that she might decamp more promptly, and return unheralded. She does not seem to have been vicious, but simply triumphantly lawless and fond of gadding. I cannot always blame her. I am sure I should have wanted to go to see the soldier-prisoners of Burgoyne’s army brought into town. The last glimpse of her we have is with “her head dressed in tiptop fashion,” rolling off in a coach to Yorktown with Sam Morris’s son, and not even saying good-by to her vanquished master. Mr. Marshall was not the only Philadelphian to be thus afflicted; we find one of his neighbors, Jacob Hiltzheimer, dealing a more summary way with a refractory maid-servant. Shortly after noting in the pages of his diary that “our maid Rosina was impertinent to her mistress,” we find this good citizen taking the saucy young redemptioner before the squire, who summarily ordered her to the workhouse. After remaining a month in that confinement, Rosina boldly answered no, when asked if she would go back to her master and behave as she ought, and she was promptly remanded. But she soon repented, and was released. Her master paid for her board and lodging while under detention, and quickly sold her for £20 for her remaining term of service. With the flight of the Marshalls’ sorry Poll, the sorrows and trials of this good Quaker household with regard to what Raleigh calls “domesticals” were not at an end. As the “creatures” and the orchard and garden needed such constant attention, a man-servant was engaged--one Antony--a character worthy of Shakespeare’s comedies. Soon we find the master writing:-- I arose past seven and had our gentleman to call down stairs. I spoke to him about his not serving the cows. He at once began about his way being all right, &c. I set about serving our family and let him, as in common, do as he pleases. I think I have hired a plague to my spirit. Yet he is still the same Antony--he says--complaisant, careful, cheerful, industrious.