Zilpah Ann Swain, for such was her euphonious appellative, was soon ushered into the kitchen, where Mrs. Harding was busy with the dinner, and quietly seating herself at the window, without offering her aid, she fixed her staring black eyes upon Mrs. Harding's red, weary face, and followed her through all the evolutions of getting up dinner.
"I am very glad you have come to-day," said Mrs. Harding, attempting to be a little social. "I have friends with me, and need very much some one to take care of the kitchen."
"Well, I thought I'd come a spell, jest to accommodate; but I told Mr. Harding I wouldn't be boun' to stay. I ain't obleeged to work out, if I ain't a mind teu," replied Zilpah Ann, her black eyes flashing with independence.
It was soon evident that Zilpah Ann came simply as "help." She had not the slightest idea of taking charge of the kitchen, or of relieving her mistress by going on independently in any department of the work. The morning after her arrival, Mrs. Harding gave her special directions about sweeping the front stairs and hall, and the brick walk which led to the gate. She was to go through a certain process every morning. But her work was so badly done that Mrs. Harding determined to speak to her about it.
"Zilpah Ann," she said, as she passed through the hall one morning, about one week after her arrival, "I wish you to be particular to sweep the corners of the stairs clean. You will find the small brush better for that purpose."
"I guess I know how to sweep, Miss Harding," exclaimed the surprised Zilpah Ann, starting up from her work and throwing the full fire of her eyes upon Mrs. Harding's calm face. "I don't want nobody to tell me how to sweep out corners. I knows some things, if I hain't got so much l'arnin' as some folks."
"Oh, yes, I presume you do know how. I only wished to remind you of the corners; I am very particular about having them swept clean, and the walk, too. You will remember that, Zilpah Ann."
"I didn't come here to be a nigger nor a sarvent, Miss Harding, I'll let you know," exclaimed Zilpah Ann, dropping her broom in a passion and bolting to her room. Half an hour afterwards, she appeared at the parlor door with her bonnet on, and her bandbox in her hand, and demanded to be carried to the depot. The Hardings let her go without a word of remonstrance. They had had "help" enough for one week, and Mrs. Harding went about her work alone again, with a feeling of positive relief.
"What do you think of girl-hunting now, brother Harding?" asked Mrs. Pinkerton, as they sat round the tea-table, making themselves merry with the trials and helps of the week.
"Oh, I call it an unprofitable business," exclaimed Mr. Harding, with a hearty laugh. "I rode three days in a broiling sun after Zilpah Ann, paid her fare fifty miles, bore with her help for a week, and received nothing for my pains. It is just like chasing your own shadow, or 'hunting a needle in a haymow.'"