Mr. Hamilton was cowardly. He was afraid of his wife, and he was afraid of Mag. So he tried to compromise the matter by promising the one that he surely would see to it, and by asking the other if she were not ashamed. But old Polly didn't let the matter pass so easily. She was greatly shocked at having "such shameful carryin's on in a decent man's house."
"'Clare for't," said she, "I'll give marster a piece of Polly Pepper's mind the fust time I get a lick at him."
In the course of a few days Mr. Hamilton had occasion to go for something into Aunt Polly's dominions. The old lady was ready for him. "Mr. Hampleton," said she, "I've been waitin' to see you this long spell."
"To see me, Polly?" said he; "what do you want?"
"What I wants is this," answered Polly, dropping into a chair. "I want to know what this house is a comin' to, with such bedivilment in it as there's been since madam came here with that little black-headed, ugly-favored, ill-begotten, Satan-possessed, shoulder-unj'inted young one of her'n. It's been nothin' but a rowdadow the whole time, and you hain't grit enough to stop it. Madam boxes Willie, and undertakes to shet him up for a lie he never told; Miss Margaret interferes jest as she or'to, takes Willie away, and shets up madam; while that ill-marnered Lenora jumps and screeches loud enough to wake the dead. Madam busts the door down, and pitches into the varmint, who jumps spang over a four-foot table, which Lord knows I never could have done in my spryest days."
"But how can I help all this?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
"Help it?" returned Polly. "You needn't have got into the fire in the fust place. I hain't lived fifty-odd year for nothin', and though I hain't no larnin', I know too much to heave myself away on the fust nussin' woman that comes along."
"Stop, Polly; you must not speak so of Mrs. Hamilton," said Mr. Hamilton; while Polly continued:
"And I wouldn't nuther, if she could hold a candle to the t'other one; but she can't. You'd no business to marry a second time, even if you didn't marry a nuss; neither has any man who's got grow'd-up gals, and a faithful critter like Polly in the kitchen. Stepmothers don't often do well, particularly them as is sot up by marryin'."
Here Mr. Hamilton, who did not like to hear so much truth, left the kitchen, while Aunt Polly said to herself, "I've gin it to him good, this time."