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
And the only reply the brute made me was, “That I might do as I
pleased.”--“Indeed!” said I to myself, “I see what it is, my grand Turk;
I must read you another part of my strong lessons, and if I don’t have
you down on your knees for all this, why my name’s not Sk--n--st--n.”
So, what did I do, but I rose from my chair in a most stately way, and
looking divorces, or at least separate maintenances, at him, I marched
out of the room as dignified as a drum-major. Having written a very
strong letter to the monster, telling him that his ill-treatment had
driven me to dear, dear respected mother’s, and that I hoped and trusted
he wouldn’t come after me, as I now really, positively, and truly, _had_
left him “FOR EVER,” I was no sooner out of the door than I began to
repent of what I had done, for I remembered mother’s maxim, that
husbands never came after their wives twice, and I was even doubtful how
she would receive me under the circumstances. Sure enough, too, I didn’t
meet with the welcome from her that she gave me on the previous
occasion; and drat it! if, after a week had elapsed, and no Mr.
Sk--n--st--n had come, she didn’t tell me I had better go back. But I
told her, “I wouldn’t go near the place--no, not for the whole
world--for fear he should see me;” adding that, as all the servants were
going at the end of the month, he’d be sure to come and fetch me when he
was left alone in the house, and _wanted me_ to get him some more.” Oh!
they are so selfish, these men.
After three weeks had gone by, and still no Mr. Sk--n--st--n, mother
told me that the thing looked very serious, and said, “she would go
round to Edward with me, and either force him to take me back, or make
me a handsome allowance; for, to tell the truth, she couldn’t afford to
keep me any longer, unless she was paid for it.”
When we got to our villa, what should I see, the very first thing, but
my beautiful stair-carpets hanging out of window, with a large
auctioneer’s bill pasted on them, announcing that all our costly
furniture, together with the valuable lease of our desirable premises,
was to be sold “without reserve” that very day, at that very hour; and
when I went into the place, I declare if all the carpets and oil-cloths
hadn’t been taken up, and all the things ticketed, and huddled together
in confusion, while the drawing-room was as full of Jew brokers as it
could hold, “foohing” away enough to knock one down.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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