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tradesmen cannot well keep one; but his wife, who might be useful in his shop or business, must do the drudgery of household affairs; and all this because our servant wenches are so puffed up with pride now-a-days that they never think they can go fine enough. It is a hard matter to know the mistress from the maid by their dress. Nay, very often the maid shall be much the finer of the two." "Nothing but silks and satins will go down with our kitchen wenches, to support which intolerable pride they have insensibly raised their wages to such a height as was never known in any age, or nation, but this."-(See Defoe's Everybody's Business Nobody's Business.)


Defoe describes the mode in which girls fresh from the country are treated by older "wenches:" "The girl has been scarce a day in her service but a committee of servant wenches are appointed to examine her, who advise her to raise her wages or give warning." "Her leathern shoes are now changed into laced ones, with high heels. She must have a hoop too as well as her mistress; and her poor, scanty linsey-woolsey petticoat is changed into a good silk one. Plain country Joan is turned into a fine London Madam, can drink tea, take snuff, and carry herself as high as the best." (Then comes a glimpse into the morality of servants in those days. It would shock Mrs. Jones to hear it read, though sooth to tell she is no prude.)

"Our Sessions' papers of late are crowded with instances of servant maids robbing their places. This can only be attributed to their devilish pride, for their whole inquiry now-a-days is how little they shall do and how much they shall have." (Defoe then traces in very plain English the career of many-how fine dress leads them to folly, wickedness, poverty, misery, and early death. We see the same process in scores of instances in our cities every year; but it is not worse with us than it was in Defoe's day. I hope not quite so bad.)

The most per

"Those who are not thus vicious are thievish. nicious are those who beggar you inchmeal. If a maid is a downright thief she strips you at once, and you know your loss; but these retail pilferers waste you insensibly, and though you hardly miss it, yet your substance shall decay to such a degree that you must have very good bottom, indeed, not to feel the ill effects of such moths in your family.

"Tea, sugar, butter, wine, &c., are reckoned no thefts. If they

do not directly take your silver, your linen, they are honest. There are those that are sent to market for a joint of meat, take up two on their master's account, and leave one by the way, for some of these maids are mighty charitable, and can make a shift to maintain a small family with what they can purloin from their masters and mistresses." (Here Jane could not help reminding me how John McGraw, the coachman, stole our butter and sugar one winter, for the benefit of the small family of which he was the eldest member,-how Vincent, our next coachman, stole our potatoes, coals, wood, &c., for the benefit of his daughter's family, who live not far from us,-how Flora stole linens, and Betsy stole spoons, and soforth, and soforth.)

"If a master or mistress inquire after anything missing they must be sure to place their words in due form, or madam huffs and flings about at a strange rate: What, would you make a thief of her? Who would live with such mistrustful folks? Thus you are obliged to hold your tongue and sit down generally by your loss, for fear of offending your maid, forsooth!


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Again, if your maid maintain one or more persons from your table, whether they are her poor relations, servants out of place, or friends of her ladyship, you must not complain of your expense, or ask what has become of such a thing, or such a thing. You must hold your tongue for peace sake, or madam will say you grudge her victuals, and expose you to the last degree over the whole neighbourhood. *

"Thus have these wenches by their continual cabals united themselves into a formidable body, and got the whip-hand of their betters. They make their own terms with us; and two servants will scarce undertake the work which one might perform with ease, notwithstanding that they have raised their wages to a most exorbitant pitch."

Defoe tells the following story, which amused Jane immensely : "My family is composed of myself and sister, and a man and maid servant. We were without the latter when a young wench came looking for the place. The man was gone out and my sister was upstairs; so I opened the door myself, and this person presented herself to my view dressed completely, more like a visitor than servant maid.' She, not knowing me, asked for my sister. 'Pray, madam,' said I, 'be pleased to walk into the parlour, she shall wait on you presently.' Accordingly I handed madam in,


who took it very cordially. After some apology I left her alone for a minute or two, while I, stupid wretch! ran up to my sister, and told her that there was a gentlewoman below come to visit her. Dear brother,' said she, don't leave her alone; go down and entertain her while I dress myself.' Accordingly down I went and talked of indifferent affairs; meanwhile my sister dressed herself all over again, not being willing to be seen in an undress. At last she came down dressed as clean as her visitor. But how great was my surprise when I found my fine lady a common servant wench! My sister asked her what wages she expected? She modestly asked but eight pounds a year. (Enormous wages for those days.) The next question was what work she could do to deserve such wages? She replied, she could clean a house or prepare an ordinary family dinner. But cannot you wash or get up She answered, No: and she would not stop in a house. where they did not send out their washing and hire a charwoman to do the scrubbing. She desired to see the house and having carefully surveyed it, said the work was too hard for her, and she would not undertake it. 'Young woman,' said my sister, I want a house maid, and you are a chamber maid.' 'No,' she replied, 'I am not needlewoman enough for that.' And you ask such wages,' said my sister. Yes, and I will not bate a farthing.' 'Then get you gone for a lazy impudent baggage; said I, 'You want to be a boarder and not a servant. Have you a fortune or an estate that you dress at that rate?' 'No sir,' she said, 'but I hope I may wear what I work for without offence.' What, you work!' interrupted my sister, Why, you do not seem willing to undertake any work. You will not wash nor scour; you cannot cooke; you are no needlewoman; and our little house of two rooms on a floor is too much for you. For God's sake what can you do?' 'Madam,' replied she, I know my business and do not fear a service. If you wash at home you should have a laundrymaid; if you give entertainments you must keep a cookmaid; if you have any needlework you should have a chambermaid."" So ended the colloquy.





Mrs. Jones was quite satisfied by these quotations that though we have fallen on evil times and evil Biddies, the like have been experienced before. Pollygolly has had predecessors enough, and she will, no doubt, have successors till the end of time. Becoming

exhausted with the theme, though the theme was far from being exhausted, I quote for Jane's benefit the following sensible lines:

"Expect not more from servants than is just;
Reward them well if they observe their trust;
Nor with them cruelty nor pride invade,
Since God and Nature them our brother's made."

Pollygolly will leave us to-morrow, I hope, and then the cooperative system, the patriarchal system, camp life, tent life, or any other honest style of life God pleases to give us! Nothing shall come amiss. David Jones and his wife Jane shall never be the slaves of servants nor the victims of circumstances!

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ACT I, Scene I. In front of Lubin's cottage. A rustic fete. William and Rita "spooning." Ditto Dobbio and Liza. After dance, Lubin calls the young men. All draw near.

LUBIN. Gather around me, neighbors. Here is a splendid chance for the young men of drown-trodden England, trampled as they are under foot by a bloated aristocracy who batten on the turnpike tolls and have repeatedly refused to abolish rent,-nay, who steadily decline to grant to the industrious mechanic a seat in the house of lords. Well, well, the days of such tyrannies are nearly over. I have here a new magna charta [unrolls about six feet of a scroll] sent me by Messrs. Bamboozle and Foozle, the lawyers, (who kindly charged me no more than six-and-eightpence for it,) the prospectus of "THE GRAND FREEBORN BRITON'S EL DORADO LAND SCHEME from which, with your permission, I will read a few extracts:

"The lands of this Beneficent Institution are situate along the shores of the delightful river Gambia, which

fertilizes with its lukewarm waters the most productive region of the gobe. The soil is a rich black mud, sixty feet in depth, beneath which it is surmised will be found an exhaustless deposit of gold dust. Society in the district is good. Besides the aborigines, who are affable in their manners and exceedingly attentive to strangers, there are several independent tribes of monkeys far advanced in the scale of civilisation. There manners, it may be mentioned, are essentially Parisian. In no part of the world are the creatures of the chase so abundant and varied; deer may be found in the woods, and lions and tigers in the farmer's stackyard. In short the emigrant who avails himself of Messrs. Bamboozle and Foozle's terms will realise all the delights of Rasselas's happy valley."

There! young men, what do you think of that for a chance to make your fortunes?

ALL. Charming! delightful!

LUBIN. So it is. I have thought the matter over with that gravity and wisdom which age and a constant perusal of the county paper always brings, and have determined to found a new home on the Gambia. A new home,-who'll follow?




And I.

L. Good. Be ready by to-morrow's noon. It is my destiny to lead you, like Moses, to the promised land, and when we have had our first harvest home we will freight a ship with cocoa nuts and gold dust, and return for our wives and sweethearts to dance around the Maypole under the shadow of our own banana trees. [Exit.]


RITA. Ah! do not go.




"Tis just like men.

They do not care! BOTH. Think, think again and answer "no!"

WILLIAM and GOBBIO. Think, think the joys to sail the seas,

And 'neath the tall banana trees,

To track the tigers to their lair,

And bring their spoils to deck your feasts—

(Odious beasts!)

It is not fair.


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