Scene.—A lady’s chamber, and the occupant in tears. Enter a Motherly Talker.
—Why! what can be the matter? You, so bright and cheerful usually, in despondency and tears! Some great trouble must have befallen you!
“I am completely discouraged! I ought never to have undertaken housekeeping. It is evident I shall never make a good housekeeper, and I will not be a poor one. After all my boasting when I first began, I am ashamed to tell you now how miserably I have failed. But ‘open confession is good for the soul,’ and when you have had the whole story, say if you think I am worth the teaching.”
Why, how humble our little woman has become! Some “lion in the way,” and, doubtless, of your own creating, has disheartened you for the present, we think. Tell us, without hesitation, what troubles you, and we will see if we cannot find a “silver lining” to this cloud, as it is easy to do in most cases.
“Well, listen, and tell me, when you learn how I have been blinded, if I have not cause to hide in the valley of humiliation.
“I have labored hard to train my Bridget, to the best of my ability, and, with all her inefficiencies, have felt and boasted that she was really neat. That being the case, I felt myself capable of keeping so strict a watch of her weak points, that she could not hide her mistakes so deftly but that I would find and try to teach her to rectify them. I had, at the commencement of my new life, arranged everything in the nicest order; and having started the machinery, Bridget seeming so ready to carry out my rules, I was confident that, by keeping up a careful supervision, I could not fail, and was in a fair way to become a bright and shining light among my sister housekeepers.
“Well, Bridget left me yesterday. I didn’t much care. There would be no trouble in replacing her, and doubtless securing a more capable girl. Beside, a few days’ work all to myself would be no hardship; for had I not been so faithful in my oversight of all domestic affairs, that everything about my house must be in perfect order?
“I was in the habit of visiting kitchen and store-closet daily. The sink seemed clean, the range well polished, the boiler bright, and dishes all in order, and making quite a pretty display on the shelves. Ah! if I had handled each article, looked into each pot or kettle, instead of being content to see only the outside, I should have soon learned that all was falsely fair! Why! everything was slippery, greasy, dirty, or leaking, except those which were placed in the front rank, for show. I am sick and lame from just this morning’s cleaning and scrubbing, and am not half through even the kitchen. Half the dishes that looked so nicely on the shelves are ‘nicked’ or cracked; holes burnt in the saucepans, and bits of old cloth drawn through to stop the leak,—who can tell how long they have remained there, gathering filth, or from what dirty rag they were torn!
“How often I have praised Bridget for keeping the kitchen coffee and tea pot so bright. But when I took them down this morning, lo! the coffee-pot was minus a handle, and the teapot bottomless! They were placed with the perfect side in sight on the shelves, and the broken parts wholly concealed; while my best things were doubtless used in the kitchen. If I must take up each article, day by day, to be sure of their condition, I could do nothing else through the day.
“In the cellar a barrel stood, in its proper place, filled with kindling. I reached my hand in hastily to get paper to start the fire, and quickly snatched it out, cut and bleeding. There were only a few papers on the top of the barrel, and all the rest of its contents was broken glass and china!