The next applicant offered to come for three pounds--thought six pounds
too much. She expressed her willingness to sleep in the back kitchen: a
shakedown under the sink was all she wanted. She likewise had yearnings
towards Unitarianism.
The third girl did not require any wages at all--could not understand
what servants wanted with wages--thought wages only encouraged a love of
foolish finery--thought a comfortable home in a Unitarian family ought to
be sufficient wages for any girl.
This girl said there was one stipulation she should like to make, and
that was that she should be allowed to pay for all breakages caused by
her own carelessness or neglect. She objected to holidays and evenings
out; she held that they distracted a girl from her work.
The fourth candidate offered a premium of five pounds for the place; and
then "A. B." began to get frightened, and refused to see any more of the
girls, convinced that they must be lunatics from some neighbouring asylum
out for a walk.
Later in the day, meeting the next-door lady on the doorstep, she related
her morning's experiences.
"Oh, that's nothing extraordinary," said the next-door lady; "none of us
on this side of the street pay wages; and we get the pick of all the best
servants in London. Why, girls will come from the other end of the
kingdom to get into one of these houses. It's the dream of their lives.
They save up for years, so as to be able to come here for nothing."
"What's the attraction?" asked "A. B.," more amazed than ever.
"Why, don't you see," explained the next door lady, "our back windows
open upon the barrack yard. A girl living in one of these houses is
always close to soldiers. By looking out of window she can always see
soldiers; and sometimes a soldier will nod to her or even call up to her.
They never dream of asking for wages. They'll work eighteen hours a day,
and put up with anything just to be allowed to stop."
"A. B." profited by this information, and engaged the girl who offered
the five pounds premium. She found her a perfect treasure of a servant.
She was invariably willing and respectful, slept on a sofa in the
kitchen, and was always contented with an egg for her dinner.
The truth of this story I cannot vouch for. Myself, I can believe it.
Brown and MacShaughnassy made no attempt to do so, which seemed
unfriendly. Jephson excused himself on the plea of a headache. I admit
there are points in it presenting difficulties to the average intellect.
As I explained at the commencement, it was told to me by Ethelbertha, who
had it from Amenda, who got it from the char-woman, and exaggerations may
have crept into it. The following, however, were incidents that came
under my own personal observation. They afforded a still stronger
example of the influence exercised by Tommy Atkins upon the British
domestic, and I therefore thought it right to relate them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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