“‘Oh! pretty well-ish, now,’ was the reply. ‘I was a-feard, when I first come, that she would bother me a-trotting down into the kitchen so constant. But I give her a hint as how that wasn’t the trick of a raal lady, and she’s kep’ out nicely sence then. You’ve got to stand up for your own rights in this wurrld, or you’ll be trod upon.’”
Now, it would be throwing away words to reason with a woman like that cook, or a mistress might show that in no other department of labor would such a principle be tolerated—that from the Secretary of State down to the scavenger who empties your ash-pan, every employé who draws wages has an overlooker, to whom he is accountable for the manner in which his work is done and his money earned; and that the fact that she is an ignorant, high-tempered woman is no just cause of exemption. Yet in how many families is this point tacitly yielded, and the mistress admitted upon sufferance to her own kitchen—the room furnished with her money, and in which she hardly dare touch or look at the articles intended for the consumption of her own family?
One often hears such remarks as, “It isn’t every girl who will stand having the mistress popping in and out while she is at work.” When, in any other situation, the very fact of this unwillingness to have the owner of the materials used in that work present, would be strong presumptive proof of negligence or dishonesty. The principle is pernicious from beginning to end, and should not be tolerated for an instant.
It gives me pleasure to state here, that I know nothing personally of this curious reversal of the rights of employer and domestic. I am inclined to believe, if one-half I hear of other housewives’ trials be true, that I have been highly favored among American women. My authority in the kitchen, as in other parts of the household, has never been disputed—in my hearing or presence, that is. I have always met with a cheerful reception below-stairs when I appeared there to direct or share the labors of my cooks; have found them willing to undertake new dishes, and ready to learn my “way,” however unlike it might be to their own. As a rule, also,—to which the exceptions have been few and very far between—those employed by me have been cleanly, industrious, kind-hearted, and respectful; patient under inconveniences, and attentive in sickness. I should not, therefore, do my duty, did I not lift my voice in a plea for charitable judgment, just and generous treatment of a class which, however faulty, have much to do and to endure. Mrs. Skinflint’s grocer’s account may be less than yours, if you adopt this policy—Mrs. Sharp’s coal-cellar be better dusted, and the paint in her attic scrubbed oftener; but I believe, in the long run, you will be the most comfortable in body, as in conscience. Your machinery will move with fewer jerks and less friction. Your servants will remain with you longer, and be better-tempered while they stay, if you show that you appreciate the fact of a common humanity; that you owe them duties you are resolved to fulfil during their sojourn under your roof, however mercenary may be their performance of those devolving upon them.
Finally, dear sister, do not add to the real miseries of life by regarding the annoyance of a careless, slothful, or impertinent domestic as a real trouble. Class it with petty vexations which are yet curable as well as endurable, and live above it—a noble, beneficent existence in the love of your fellow-creatures and the fear of God—a life that can not suffer perceptible disturbance from such a contemptible rootlet of bitterness as this. It is only the feeble, the inefficient, or the indolent mistress whose peace of mind is dependent upon such casualties as a breeze, a hurricane, or a sudden vacancy in the department of the interior.
Recollect, when the infliction is sharpest, that brier-pricks are disagreeable, but never serious, unless the blood be very impure.
PUDDINGS.
I have, for convenience sake, classed among pies all preparations baked in crust in a pie-dish. Many of these, however, are called puddings, such as custards of various kinds, lemon, cocoa-nut, and orange puddings. The reader will have no trouble in finding the receipts for these, if she will bear the above remark in mind.