Country girls are not all so shrewd as Louisa: we heard of two--this was some time since--who, being in service in London, paid ten shillings each to Madame Rachel for a bath to be made beautiful for ever. Half a sovereign out of their few coins! On the other hand, town servants are well dressed and have plenty of finery, but seldom have any reserve of good clothing, such as Louisa possessed. All who know the country regret the change that has been gradually coming over the servants and the class from which they are supplied. 'Gawd help the pore missis as gets hold of _you_!' exclaimed a cottage woman to her daughter, whose goings on had not been as they should be: 'God help the poor mistress who has to put up with you!' A remark that would be most emphatically echoed by many a farmer's wife and country resident. 'Doan't you stop if her hollers at 'ee,' said another cottage mother to her girl, just departing for service--that is, don't stop if you don't like it; don't stop if your mistress finds the least fault. 'Come along home if you don't like it.' Home to what? In this instance it was a most wretched hovel, literally built in a ditch; no convenience, no sanitation; and the father a drunkard, who scarcely brought enough money indoors to supply bread. You would imagine that a mother in such a position would impress upon her children the necessity of endeavouring to do something. For the sake of that spirit of independence in which they seem to take so much pride, one would suppose they would desire to see their children able to support themselves. But it is just the reverse; the poorer folk are, the less they seem to care to try to do something. 'You come home if you don't like it;' and stay about the hovel in slatternly idleness, tails bedraggled and torn, thin boots out at the toes and down at the heels, half starved on potatoes and weak tea--stay till you fall into disgrace, and lose the only thing you possess in the world--your birthright, your character. Strange advice it was for a mother to give. Nor is the feeling confined to the slatternly section, but often exhibited by very respectable cottagers indeed. 'My mother never would go out to service--she _wouldn't_ go,' said a servant to her mistress, one day talking confidentially. 'Then what did she do?' asked the mistress, knowing they were very poor people. 'Oh, she stopped at home.' 'But how did she live?' 'Oh, her father had to keep her. If she wouldn't go out, of course he had to somehow.'