The Greatest Plague of Life: or, the Adventures of a Lady in Search of a Good Servant.Mayhew, Henry
General
The Greatest Plague of Life: or, the Adventures of a Lady in Search of a Good Servant.
Mayhew, Henry
English wit and humor; Household employees
However, to talk of another object; I’d been having a whole string of
nasty little draggle-tail girls in to nurse my little Kitty for me of a
day, but I declare they were all the very counterpart of that “La petite
Saqui,” and as dirty and slovenly as dirty and slovenly could be--with
their nasty, rusty little old shawl just thrown over their necks, and
their cotton gowns with all the colour washed out, excepting where the
tuck had been let down, and there it was bright enough, heaven knows!
Upon my word, too, they were as careless of my poor little dear, as
though it had been a doll made out of wood; and the worst of it was,
they were all of them so sly and deceitful, and always kissing and
fondling the little pet to my face, though directly my back was turned,
they would go knocking it about, and eating up, like a set of greedy
pigs, all the sugar I had given out for the angel’s pap. I declare to
goodness gracious, whenever they took the child out for an airing, it
was a perfect agony to me, for I used to sit upon pins and needles,
expecting every knock that came to the door, would be my little cherub
brought home on a shutter, and I should find out that it had either been
run over, or dropped into the canal, or tossed by a mad bull, or
something equally pleasant to a fond mother’s feelings. So I told Edward
very quietly, that for the sake of a trumpery five-pound note a year, I
wasn’t going to be torn to pieces in the manner I was every hour of my
life; and that I had made up my mind to have a regular nurse, who, at
least, would be some credit to the family, and on whom I could place
some little dependence. Besides, I said with great truth, I was certain
we should find a decent, clean woman would be a positive saving in the
long run, if it was only in the matter of the baby’s washing--which
really seemed to be an expense that there was no end to--for even if I
were to put ten frocks on the little angel every day, I assured him it
would be as grubby as a chimney-sweeper’s child, all the same; and as
for the matter of eating, I would back a good strong growing girl,
that’s out in the open air half her time, to get through twice as much,
if not more, than a full-grown respectable woman, any day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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