The Housemaid's Story

When I lived out first, ma’am, it was with a lady as had a fine large family of her own, and there was a deal cooked, and great dinners made and breakfasts and suppers likewise; and the provisions were all kept in a store-room, and Mrs. Madder, the housekeeper, had charge of them, and under her were five servants. The cook and the chambermaid and the waiter, and the housemaid, and the seamstress. Oh, but Mrs. Madder was a [queer] lookin’ little woman, sharp as a hatchet, and cross as two sticks, and she followed us about as if [thieving] was our trade; and I hadn’t been in the house long before I found out that there was continual changing, and that [reason] always was dishonesty.  

Now there’d be wine gone, and now fruit. Now a spoon and now a napkin; and always Mrs. Madder complained, and there was dismissing. Before I’d been there a month a silver handle corkscrew was missing, and the waiter lost his place; and then an old table-cloth, and off went the waitress. 

“Dear, dear,” says my mistress, says she, “is there no finding an honest servant?” 

“Ma’am,” says I, hearing her, “I am one, ma’am.” 

Says she, “You look it, child.” 

Says I—then says I, all of a sudden like, for the thought popped into my mind in a minute: 

“Ma’am, a deal is stolen here, and you can’t [discover] the truth. May I ask who finds out the losses?” 

“Mrs. Madder—that faithful woman,” says she. “But for her I’d be cheated out of my very eyes.” 

“Maybe so, ma’am,” says I. “But, [indeed], I think the waiter was innocent of the spoon, and Hannah Jane of the cloth.” 

“I don’t know,” said [s]he, shaking her head. “Mrs. Madder thinks differently.” 

“Ma’am,” says… Read More