So off I went, consoling myself in this way, and thinking what a dinner the little poppit would make after being out in the air so long. As I knew Sarah in general promenaded up and down the broad walk, because, in the first place, there were no horses and carriages there; and, secondly, the keepers always take care to protect a poor lone woman from insult, as she said; as I knew that I should be sure to find her there, I made the best of my way towards that quarter. Just as I had got about half way down, I thought I saw some one very like her coming up the path towards me; but when I looked again, I was satisfied it couldn’t be Sarah, for there was a young man with her, who was continually poking his head under her bonnet, and looking up in her face. And yet, when the young woman came nearer, I knew it was my maid, by the carriage and my little Kitty’s bonnet and feather. I felt convinced that the poor girl was making the best of her way towards the keeper, to avoid the young man’s persecutions, and I stood still, expecting every minute to see her give the monkey in charge. But when I beheld my lady march right past the man in the green livery, and, indeed, with her head turned the other way, I couldn’t help saying to myself—“Well, now, there’s deceit for you! Oh! you hate the men, do you?” And scarcely had I said it, when a great Newfoundland dog came tearing behind the carriage, and turned it right over on its side; and though my little pet began screaming away, still my lady was so wrapt up in the nonsense the fellow was stuffing into her head, that, bless you! she no more heard the screams of my darling than she seemed to be aware the carriage was upset; for on she went, flirting away, casting die-away looks at the fellow, and tapping his hand with her trumpery parasol, as much as to say—“Go along with you, do, you naughty, naughty man,” while she kept dragging the carriage after her, flat on its side, as it
“Out for an airing.”
was, and my little beauty, all along the gravel, as if it had been a garden-roller. Directly I saw the chaise upset, I ran towards the minx as fast as my legs would carry me; but even then I couldn’t reach her in time enough to save my pretty cherub; and when I got up to it—oh, dear me! if its sweet little face wasn’t scored all over like crackling, and the gravel sticking into her cheeks for all the world like a bit of asphalte pavement.
I could have looked over this misfortune, (although, if the courteous reader will believe me, my little Kate has got some of the grits in her cheeks to this very day, and you can feel the gravel under the skin, like the stones in currants,) but it was the woman’s nasty, wicked deceit, in making me believe that she hated the very sight of a man, that set me against her. But I put a stop to those walks in the Park pretty soon. No wonder she was so anxious to take the child out to do it good—a toad!
What made me not like to part with her, however, was, that she seemed so head over ears in love with my little beauty, that I felt quite an interest in the woman, and was stupid enough to believe, that if I could only keep her away from that bothering Regent’s Park, and the lawyers’ clerks out of place, that are always lolloping about on the seats there, she would go on very well. Still, notwithstanding all the affection she made such a show of towards my little life, Edward and I used to remark that the child was always crying when it was up in the nursery; and when we asked her what was the reason of it all, leave her alone for having some taradiddle always ready at the tip of her tongue, by way of answer. Oh! then it was either the little love was fretting after its dear mamma, or else its poor teeth were wherreting its poor soul out, and the little Goody Two Shoes was ready to tear its little mouth to pieces, it was! (Was there ever such a double-faced crocodile?) But the mystery was soon cleared up; for one fine morning, a nice old silver-haired gentleman knocked at the door a few minutes after my lady had come in with my pet from its airing, (which had done it so much good, that it had got such an appetite for its little dinner, I couldn’t tell!) and, like a good old soul, said he had called to tell me that he had seen that Miss Sarah of mine (who was so fond of my Kate that she could eat her!) ill-treating the poor little dear so shamefully in the open streets, that he couldn’t help following her home, and informing me of it. Directly the dear old gentleman had gone, I had my little cherub down, and, stripping it, lo! and behold, if the little dear’s white skin wasn’t dappled all over black and blue, with the pinches that deceitful, hard-hearted nurse of mine had given it, till positively it had more the appearance of a little iron grey pony than a human being! Oh! how my fingers did itch to be about the creature!
So I got rid of that deceitful bit of goods very soon, I can assure you; and so, indeed, I did of a number of others after her; for, upon my word, they are all alike, whether they are cooks, or housemaids, or nurserymaids, or pages, or footmen, it’s the same story over and over again—worry, worry—bother, bother—from morning till night, and not a moment’s peace to be had for love or money. A maid-of-all-work was quite a match for me; but, when we got on in the world, so as to be able to afford a footman—Lord bless me! I was positively mad from the moment I got up to the moment I went to bed again. Now, there was that lazy, impudent, fat footman of a Duffy. I’m sure he was—but my courteous readers must excuse me entering into particulars at present. They will be able to judge of the character my gentleman was from Mr. Cruikshank’s admirable plate. But it wasn’t only the laziness and cool impudence of the fat pig that pleased me, but he had a nasty way of—but I’m sorry to say I must reserve it all for another chapter.