“No, no, no!” I answered; “I tell you once for all, I’ve no room for any old man here; and, besides, if I had, a nice thing it would be to have him dying directly the cold weather set in.”
“Oh, bless you, mum,” he replied, “a good healthy old man will never die, and look quite lively all the winter through. However, mum, perhaps you’d be kind enough to step round some day to our place, and then we could show you what we’ve got, and you could choose for yourself, mum.”
“Yes,” I answered; “perhaps that would be best, and then I can please myself.”
When the man had gone, I said to myself: “Well, my fine gentleman, I shall never trouble you again,” for I declare that of all the servants I ever heard of, his seemed to be the worst; for, of course, how was I ever to be able to tell that he was only talking of a set of trumpery plants that he had got for sale. I’m sure, if he had two grains of common sense, he ought to have seen that there was some mistake somewhere; though, for the matter of that, I don’t suppose I should ever have found it out myself, had it not been for the gentleman from the Servants’ Institution calling to see me, scarcely half-an-hour afterwards. And then, bless us and save us, if I didn’t go taking him for the nurseryman, though I certainly must do myself the justice to say that I couldn’t help thinking that he looked rather grand for a gardener, with his white cravat, and black coat buttoned up to his chin, and black kid gloves, with the fingers all out, and looking as crumpled and shrivelled as French plums.
No sooner had Mr. Dick Farden told me that the other gentleman that I had sent him for had come, than I had him into the parlour, and told him that if he would step with me into the garden, I would arrange with him what I wanted done to it, and he could let me have his opinion about it. The man opened his eyes, and looked at me as wise as an owl; as, indeed, he might; for what on earth could what my garden wanted doing to it, be to him? When we got there, I declare he must have thought me mad, for I took him right up to the middle of it, and told him, I had made up my mind to have a nice grass plot laid down in the centre, so that my dear little pet might play about on it, without coming to any harm. But he only stared the more, and said, “Very good;” though, of course, if he had spoken his real opinion, he would have said “very strange.” Then I told him I had settled upon having some nice flower-beds all round the sides, and said I thought it would look very pretty; on which he looked at me for a short time, with his mouth wide open, as much as to say, “Surely the woman must be out of her mind;” but he only answered, “Indeed.” After that, I asked him what plants he would advise me to have, and whether he thought the soil would be rich enough for dahlias? But, without looking at the ground, and keeping his eye fixed intently on me, he answered, “Certainly;” and then clutching the handle of his umbrella as tight as he could, he retreated several paces off, in a way that I couldn’t for the life of me understand at the time, but which—now that I come to think of it—clearly convinces me that the poor man must have fancied that I had broken loose from Bedlam, and that he expected every minute I should seize hold of the spade, which was within arm’s length of me, and race round the garden after him with it. When I told him that most likely he was not aware of how hard the ground was, and I stamped on it two or three times, and raised myself up on my toes, just to show him that I couldn’t make any impression upon it, the stupid ninny began jumping about and dancing away, and staring at me, till, I declare, his eyes looked for all the world like two farthings. Coupling this with the whole of the man’s previous strange behaviour, upon my word, I thought he had gone stark raving mad, though it’s quite plain to me now that he thought the same of me, and was only playing those antics just to humour me. I seized the spade and he opened his umbrella, and there we stood, face to face, thrusting away at one another as hard as ever we could, and all the time jumping and skipping about, like two dancing bears. I gave a loud scream, and he, poor man, retreated as quick as he could do so backwards to the door, where he met with that scoundrel of a Dick Farden, who had been the cause of it all, and whom I no sooner saw than I told him, for Heaven’s sake, to seize that mad friend of his. Then, lawk a daisy! out it all came; and I learnt, to my great horror, that I had been confounding the two men. Of course I apologized to the gentleman from the Servants’ Institution as a lady ought to, telling him that I was extremely sorry that I had mistaken him for a gardener and a madman; but the man went as red in the face as a tomata, with passion, declaring that he had never been so insulted before in all his life, and vowing that he would make me pay for having dragged him all that way, through a broiling sun, upon a fool’s errand; and then out of the house he bounced, like a human cracker.
When the man had left, I declare I was so vexed at having been made such a stupid of, by that shameful vagabond of a Mr. Dick Farden—for, of course, if it hadn’t been for him, the mistake would never have occurred, and I shouldn’t wonder at all if he hadn’t brought it about intentionally, just so as to have a good laugh at me, out of sheer spite at my stopping his wages—I was so vexed with the fellow, I repeat, that I had him up then and there, and told him that he had better not let me see his face within my doors again, or, as sure as his name was Mr. Dick Farden, I would give him in custody. Then it was that I found out what kind of a person I had been harbouring in my house, for although, up to that time, he had been so civil-spoken and respectful, that one would have fancied that butter wouldn’t have melted in his mouth, then, of course, because it no longer answered his purpose to behave himself, he turned round and abused me like a pickpocket, until I declare I was so mad that, if I hadn’t been a perfect lady, I should have dusted his jacket and combed his hair nicely for him, that I should—a nasty, good-for-nothing, double-faced, clumsy, cowardly, foul-mouthed monster! Augh! if I detest one thing more than another, it’s people that can’t keep a civil tongue in their heads.
CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH I JUST LET THE READER KNOW MY OPINION OF THAT HALF-WITTED IDIOT OF AN EMMA OF MINE.—MAIDS OF ALL WORK CERTAINLY ARE NO GREAT GENIUSES AT THE BEST OF TIMES, BUT I DECLARE I DO THINK THAT GIRL HAD NO MORE BRAINS IN HER HEAD THAN WOULD HAVE FILLED AN EGG-CUP, FOR I’VE TRIED A GOOD MANY SERVANTS IN MY DAY, BUT REALLY AND TRULY SHE WAS THE VERIEST BOOBY THAT EVER WENT OUT TO SERVICE, THOUGH PERHAPS I OUGHT TO ADD, IN JUSTICE TO THE GIRL, THAT, FOR A WONDER, I HAD LITTLE OR NO FAULT TO FIND WITH HER IN OTHER RESPECTS.
“I’ve talked and I’ve prattled with some fifty maids,
And changed them as oft, do you see;
But of all the bright beauties, I ever knew,
Miss Emma’s the maid for me.”
Popular Song, with a few slight alterations by myself, and which I was forced to make, for positively all the Maids spoken of in Ballads seem to have been such pinks-of-perfections, and to have come from Llangollen, and Athens, and Judah, and a pack of other such outlandish places, that it is very difficult to find any that will suit me.
I shouldn’t wonder but there are some bilious, discontented people, who will perhaps say that I have been devoting more time and space to Mr. Dick Farden than I ought to have done. But it’s the old fable over again; there was no pleasing everybody, whichever way the man treated the donkey, so of course it’s not to be expected that everybody will be pleased with the account of the way in which Mr. Dick Farden treated me. However, I was determined to do the man justice while I was about him; and now that I’ve come back to Miss Emma, I intend to do the same to her. Perhaps this may meet their eyes some day, and then I dare say it will be a nice blow to them. For, of course, they never thought they were in the wrong, not they, and will be rather surprised to find out what I thought about it.