By this time her ladyship had regained her breath, and she interrupted
my mother by pointing out to her, that allowing all she said to be
correct, yet still that was no reason why she should allow such indecent
liberties; that Sir Hercules had never obtained such favors from her
until after the ring had been put on her finger. Then, indeed, such
things might be--that is, occasionally; but the kitchen of all
places!--And, besides, how did she know how many wives the coxswain had
already? She shouldn't be surprised, if, with that long pigtail of his,
he had five at least--nay, perhaps, six or seven. Here my mother
replied that "it was out of gratitude to her (sob) for having consented
to permit him to (sob) speak to Sir Hercules (sob), who would plead with
her ladyship (sob), which had occasioned Mr. Saunders (sob) to
take--such--a--liberty (sob--sob--sob)--which he had never--done
before--(sob)--No!--never--upon her honor--never!--" And here my
mother's sobs choked her utterance.
This explanation somewhat pacified, and a little subsequent humility and
flattery gained the mistress, who consented to settle the matter with
Sir Hercules, alleging, as one principal reason for so doing, that after
the familiarity which had taken place between them, the sooner they were
married the better. The wishes of her ladyship were tantamount to
commands. Sir Hercules pronounced my father to be a fool, and they were
married.
My mother was a good-looking person, perhaps two or three years older
than my father; she was of a very bad temper, very vindictive and
revengeful, and in every way she had a pleasure in annoying other
people, and when she succeeded she invariably concluded her remarks
with, "There--now you're vexed!" Whenever out of humor herself from the
observations of others, she attempted to conceal her vexation by
singing; and having been so many years of her life in the nursery, her
songs were usually those little ditties used to pacify or amuse children
in arms. "Saunders," she would cry out, "if you aren't the biggest fool
that ever walked on two legs--to look at that long tail of yours you're
so proud of, one would think I'd married a monkey--a _hourang-howtang_,
instead of a man. There--now you're vexed! One can't open one's mouth."
My mother knew where to strike; and this attack upon his pigtail was
certain to provoke my father, who would retort in no measured language,
till she, in her turn, lost her temper, and then out she would sing, in
a sort of scream--
"Hey diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon," etc.
And thus she continued to sing (or squeal) until her wrath cooled down.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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