“Mrs. Badger, for that was my visitor’s name, placed a hand on each hip, and looking me full in the face, burst forth into a laugh that would have done credit to a backwood’s-man. I trembled, and felt myself coloring to the tips of my ears. To this day I have a vivid recollection of the impression made upon me by that woman’s contempt. “‘Well, wherever was you broughten up,’ said my visitor, at length, ‘to ’spose that turnpike-cakes was meant to _eat_! Why, bless your heart, child! they’re to make bread with!’ “I caught eagerly at the idea; Mr. S—— was partial to home-made bread—Mrs. Badger, who was by no means ill-natured, willingly left the turnpike-cakes, and I was soon plunged up to the elbows in my labor of love. I had very mistaken ideas though upon the subject of bread, and its capabilities of rising; I supposed that a very minute piece of dough would bake into a pretty loaf, and was extremely surprised when I beheld only an extensive tea-cake. Mr. S—— laughed good-naturedly at my baking, and pronounced it very well, what there was of it. Anxious to distinguish myself in his eyes as a good housekeeper, I toiled over pies, cake, and every thing eatable that I could think of; but, alas! the mead of praise always fell short of my expectations. He dispatched the pies with a mournful air, as he assured me that ‘he never expected to taste any equal to his mother’s;’ and after trying in vain to reach this standard of perfection, I gave it up in despair. This, I have since found, is merely a delusion peculiar to men, to be classed in the same scale with the fancy that sermons were longer and winters merrier in childhood than they are now. “_My_ experience of ministers has convinced me that, with respect to worldly matters, they are an extremely thoughtless, improvident race; and the machinery of _work_, indispensable to the producing of comforts, always contrives to get on ‘the blind side’ of them. Mr. S—— seemed to imagine that shining shirt-bosoms and spotless cravats grew on trees, or were fished-up, unharmed, from the depths of the sea, for every week his astonishment at Biddy’s failures was indescribable. “Anxious to put an end to this perpetual state of surprise, I went into the kitchen to oversee the girl’s performances—knowing about as much of the matter as she did. Her request, ‘and would ye plaze, ma’am, to be afther showin’ me,’ just meant to do it myself. The sensations that Mr. S—— experienced on finding me thus employed were almost too deep to vent themselves in words, but he positively forbade my doing it again; so, whenever I knew that he was off on some lengthy visit, I continued my mysterious occupation unsuspected; while he rejoiced at Biddy’s improvement, and in the innocence of his heart exclaimed: “‘Don’t tell me, my dear, that these Irish cannot be taught—look at Biddy!’ “I did look at her, and encountered so hopelessly vacant a visage that I laughed to myself at his credulity.