'Thomas, I would advise you not to be long. You ought to be ashamed to call yourself a coachman, and have what is under your charge in such a condition. The idea of a horse two days without a shoe.'
'It isn't my——'
'Not a word—go and do your duty in future. I shall expect you here in half an hour.'
He backed out of the room, longing to say something (what it was I don't care) but completely at sea. As he passed under my window, (though I have not sworn for many years,) I am pretty sure I heard several full sized oaths. At the appointed time the bell rang and I went out and got into the carriage. The horses looked very warm, and, though the night was cold, one was covered with foam. I said nothing, but told him to drive to Susan's sister's.
On arriving at the door, I heard sounds of very lively music for a dying child, and saw the house all lighted up.
'Oh, I understand, it is one of those Hibernian wakes. Poor thing!' and I began to pardon Susan, feel sorry for the coachman, and made up my mind to give $10 towards the sepulchral expenses. As I entered the house, surcharged with benevolence and overcome by a repentant feeling, I caught sight of Susan and a strapping man whirling round the floor to the tune of the Irish Washwoman. I approached her and said, 'I hope he is better.' She uttered a scream and ran out of the room.
The next morning after having gone over everything in the house, I sent for each servant and told them quietly but firmly that my sister's health was not very good, and that I was housekeeper—that as they had engaged to fill certain positions, I should take it for granted they understood their business; that I had neither the time nor would I take the trouble to overlook their work, but that as soon as I saw anything wrong they would hear from me. If they wanted anything I was the person. My housekeeping hours were from 9 till 10 a. m., no more. If they could not take the trouble to ask for what they wanted at that time, they could go without till the next day. I should not tell them what to do or when to do it, but if it wasn't done, they would certainly leave. That I allowed no company and gave them certain nights to go out, but if anything special and true was the matter I was ready to assist, 'and now,' said I, 'no quarreling down stairs; each one to their work and no complaining.—The moment you are discontented come to me and you can go at once if you choose. I do not want any notice ever, except where a baby is concerned.' This done I then advertised for a cook. The next day my cook, down stair, came up to me quite flushed, and wanted to know if I intended to turn her away. I said no, I had no idea of it, but thought it was a very good plan to have two in the house; that I intended making the new one a waiter, and then if anything happened, such as the sudden departure, 'of my cook,' I said, looking right at her, 'for you know they are quick tempered, why then I have one on hand.' She colored up and retired. After going through a great deal of nonsense about the words 'help' and 'servants,' I at length got what I wanted and all went on smoothly for a time.
My plan for detecting neglect in the cleaning of a room, was to stick half a dozen pins in different places about it—some on the walls, in the window and other places that ought to be wiped. If I found them there after the cleaning, I became suddenly very disagreeable.
During my sister's administration, I had been obliged to wait sometimes three weeks before she could find time, for her servants, to put a button on my waistcoat. Now, when I wanted anything done, the first person that passed my library door was stopped, no matter what her work might be at the time, sent for a clothes brush, needle or hammar, and the thing was done at once. It acted like a charm, and all went on well. At first they objected, (only silently), but I told them plainly that I hired them for my benefit, not theirs, which generally followed; and that though their work was specified to a certain degree, they must on all occasions answer any calls and pay always for breakage. This last saved twenty dollars a month, for hardly anything under those expensive circumstances, fell of their hands; and I noticed the plea of 'sudden change of weather,' or 'some one must have disturbed it,' or 'that horrid cat has been among those dishes and upset them,' or 'twas cracked before,' became as worn out as aphorisms of the past. I was always very attentive to them when sick. This tells, in the long run, on servants, for they are very susceptible to a kind act out of place—indulgence, however, is soon forgotten. I always made it a habit, too, to pay each servant something more a month than any one else. That, also, acted wonderfully like a retainer. But I distinctly told them I wanted my work done, because it was paid for. I asked no favors. Two other rules saved me much trouble. When a girl said she couldn't do any set job, on account of no time, no matter what it was, I always said, 'why, that's all nonsense; it only takes five minutes;' and not infrequently have I irritated them into doing almost impossibilities. I never valued any cheap article under five dollars.
Another great mistake, is to find fault with a servant before any one. Have they done wrong, go to your library and ring loudly—that is half the battle; then tell the waiter to call the chambermaid, and then speak. You will find everything easy. They have had time to reflect; to weigh the pros and cons, and have half thought themselves into submission. Never argue. If you have the right exert it, but never be unjust; and, above all, believe me when I tell you that their feelings are exquisite on the subject of neglect. Let them once feel a respect for you, yet know you are determined to have anything done, and a simple remark will lie like lead on their stomach, and you will hear them talking of it down stairs and using the bow anchor of firmness, 'he said so,' until it is done. Never change your mind.