“Ye’ve countit wrang, mem, if you please; ye’ve gi’en me a pound ower much.”
“No, Bell, not too much,” said Mrs. Barrie; “too little if you like, but not too much. You told me just now it had been a heavy half-year with us. What has it been to you? You have done two women’s work.”
“TWICE BLESSED.”
“No’ me, Mrs. Barrie, no’ me. I have a gude place, an’s no oppressed nae way. Twae women’s wark?—pity their men or their mistresses! It’s nae wark at a’; naebody meddles wi’ me; I dae as I like.”
“Because you always like to do well, Bell.”
“I wish I did,” said Bell, and was leaving the room, when Mrs. Barrie said: “Take the pound with you, Bell.”
“No, Mrs. Barrie; excuse me, mem,” said Bell. “I never disobeyed ye before, but I will not take that pound—I could not take it.”
“Do what you like with it, Bell, but pray take it away; it’s yours.”
Bell lifted it, and said, “For His cause.” Her fee had been a consecrated thing in her mind for some time, and seeing Mrs. Barrie had declined it, Bell, with great comfort to herself, apportioned it between the Building, Sustentation, and Mission Funds of the Free Church; with the exception of one pound, with which she bought “Alloa yarn,” and knitted cosy under-garments for the whole household, herself excepted. She did this at odd times, almost by stealth; and on New-Year’s day, when each inmate was wishing Bell a happy New Year, she put into their hands the cosy clothing, saying, “That’s your hansel;” but in the case of Mrs. Barrie it was varied by, “That’s pairt o’ yon pound.”
Bell’s cookery is a subject I cannot handle as it should be handled. I have occasionally heard her tell of the regular winter Sabbath-day dinner as follows: