“The Cat did it!”“The Cat did it!”
Accordingly, I took that naughty Tom up stairs with us when we went to bed, and locked him up in the back attic, safe away from the larder. But not a wink of sleep could we get, for the creature kept on scratching and mee-yowing for better than two hours, and then we were nearly driven out of our wits by hearing a tremendous smash, which Edward said was that brute of a Tom flying at the windows, and told me that if I didn’t jump out of bed directly, that they would all be broken before I could say the name of Mr. John Robinson—for that as the cat was clearly going wild, I had better go up and see what I could do to quiet him. As I went up stairs, I was all of a tremble, and couldn’t keep the candle steady for fright, for I could hear the beast flying about the room, and swearing away like a mad thing, as he was. The very moment I opened the door, he flew at me, for all the world as if he had been a young tiger, and dug his claws (which, I can assure my readers, were just like so many darning needles) so deep into me, that I gave a loud scream, and, letting the night-candlestick fall, I flew down stairs in the dark, with the brute clinging fast to my night-dress. When I got to our room, (though I can’t tell how to goodness I was ever able to do so, I’m sure,) the dragon let go his hold, and ran under our bed, where he stopped, spitting and growling away like anything, and with his eyes like two balls of phosphorus, and his tail as large as a Bologna sausage, or my sable boa. Edward took the poker, and I got a broom, and we kept poking and sh—sh—sh—sh—ewing away as hard as we could, for near upon half an hour, expecting every moment that he would spring out upon us again; in fear of which I kept as close as possible behind dear Edward, who, I must say, displayed more courage, under the circumstances, than I ever gave him credit for, and behaved like another Grace Darling in a moment of such imminent peril. Nor was it until he had thrown a whole jugful of water at the cat, that the savage brute shot out of the room, and rushed down stairs.
The next morning I was telling my husband what a nice little boy that was of Mrs. Burgess’s, and how fond he seemed to be of his mother, for he always came to see her every day just before my usual time of going down stairs to see about dinner, when Edward said that he saw what cat took the meat now; so he’d just take old mother Burgess unawares, and very soon show me whether our Tom was the thief or not. So when we went down to breakfast, dear Edward sent Mrs. Burgess out to get a pint of milk for him, and as soon as she had left the house he slipt down stairs and brought me up the basket that she came with upon her arm every morning, and which, he said, he had discovered stowed away in our copper in the back kitchen. Inside the basket we found nearly the whole of the beautiful beef-steak pie that we had scarcely touched for dinner the day before, and a bottle of pickles that had only been used once, and a bar of yellow soap and a bag of flour and two eggs wrapt up in one of our best glass cloths. Then putting them all back again, Edward hid the basket in the plate warmer under our sideboard; and when my lady came in with the milk, he told her that if she would be so good as to bring up the cold beef-steak pie and the pickles, that he thought he could take a mouthful of it, (no one but a man would ever have thought of such a thing.) Without saying a word, down goes the brazen-faced creature and up she comes with the dish in her hands, and scarcely a bit of the pie left in it. “Oh, mum,” she cries, without even so much as the shadow of a blush on her face, “only do just look here, mum! If that thief of a Tom hasn’t been and devoured all this beautiful pie of yours, and he must have knocked down the pickles, for there was eversomuch broken glass on the floor when I came in this morning. Oh, mum! really it is too bad. Upon my word, that cat is so cunning that I really shouldn’t wonder at anything he did next.” On which Edward very cleverly asked her whether she would wonder if, suppose the next thing Tom did was to put a whole beef-steak pie into her own basket, together with some pickles and some soap, and flour, and a glass cloth, and an egg or two, just to send home as a treat to his old friends her children. Then taking the basket from out of the plate warmer, he told her to look at it, adding, that he himself didn’t wondernowat anything the cat had done since she had so kindly brought him to our house, and that really she ought to take care of the animal, for it was clear that Tom was as good as a fortune to her, and she could never want so long as she could get a situation for her cat in the same family as herself. Whereupon the impudent thing put her apron up to her eyes and pretended to cry, saying that she was a poor lonewoman, with ten children, and it was a hard matter to find bread for so many mouths, (as if that was any affair of ours.) So Edward gave her the basket with all our things in it, like a stupid, and packed her out of the house as quick as he could, saying, that if she did not keep a sharp look out, she would find some fine morning, that, like her cat, she wasn’t born to be drowned.
Indeed, I was not sorry that we got rid of her on the spot, for Norah was coming in the evening, only I couldn’t, for the life of me, all that day, get over the idea of Edward (a lawyer too!) being silly enough to let the deceitful creature go off with one of our best glass cloths—though I made up my mind to put it down in the housekeeping next week, and make him give me the money for a new one, if I died for it.
WHICH TREATS OF MY IRISH SERVANT NORAH CONNOR, AND OF THE FEARS I REALLY HAD FOR MY LIFE WHILST SHE WAS WITH ME.
WHICH TREATS OF MY IRISH SERVANT NORAH CONNOR, AND OF THE FEARS I REALLY HAD FOR MY LIFE WHILST SHE WAS WITH ME.
“My heart’s with my Norah, for she is my treasure,And, sleeping or waking—in sunshine or shade—From morning till nightfall—from nightfall till morning—I think of my Norah—my own Irish maid.”“My Heart’s with my Norah.”
“My heart’s with my Norah, for she is my treasure,And, sleeping or waking—in sunshine or shade—From morning till nightfall—from nightfall till morning—I think of my Norah—my own Irish maid.”“My Heart’s with my Norah.”
“My heart’s with my Norah, for she is my treasure,And, sleeping or waking—in sunshine or shade—From morning till nightfall—from nightfall till morning—I think of my Norah—my own Irish maid.”“My Heart’s with my Norah.”
Edwardput the cat into his blue bag, and took it down to his chambers with him that morning, all along with his law papers, (a dirty man.) When I asked him if he hadn’t better take them out and put them in his pockets, as Tom might go digging his claws into them, he told me they were only two or three rough bills of costs for his clients, and Tom’s claws couldn’t possibly hurt them; for as he hadn’t settled the things yet, it was no matter how much he stuck it into them. Then the stupid man giggled like a ninny, although, as I told him, I couldn’t see anything to giggle at, and that if in the end he found his bills of costs ripped up, that he’d laugh on the other side of his mouth, I’d be bound. So off he went with his cat, like another Whittington, to catch the Waterloo omnibus.
To say the truth, I was quite delighted when I saw my dear husband clear out of the house with that odious Tom in his hand; for really our household expenses had been so heavy for the last two or three weeks, that I hadn’t been able to get even so much as a bit of riband out of the money that Edward allowed me to keep the house with. And upon my word, what with my husband’s being so dreadfully close-fisted as he was—and Mrs. Burgess’s not being able to keep her fingers off anything—and that Tom’s love of clawing hold of whatever he came near, I declare I had been so dreadfully pinched of late, that I positively didn’t know which way to turn, and it made me so uneasy that I couldn’t rest in my bed. Besides, to be tied down to a penny as I was, was such an uncomfortable position for a body to be in, that I felt it was high time for me to get up and look about me; and I even began to have serious thoughts of keeping all the kitchen stuff to myself, for I was sure that our maid must get at least a new silk bonnet every year out of our dripping pan—and that too, when I would willingly have given my own head for it. Moreover, dear mother had advised me always to keep a sharp eye fixed on our grease-pot; for if I didn’t, I should find that every bit of candle I had in the house would run away as fast as if there was a thief in it, as the maids would take very good care that I hadn’t any “dips” of a morning in my candle box, and that my “compositions” would never be more than five and six in the pound.
Norah came in that evening with her things in a bundle in her hand; and I found her such a nice, hard-working body—always cleaning up or doing something—never tired nor minding how much I put upon her—and positively working like a galley-slave from morning till night for me—all of which was so delightful to see, that I really thought I was suited at last. Indeed, she was so quick over her work, that after I had made her scrub all the house well down, from top to bottom, and clean all the paint, and take up and beat all the carpets, and give all the furniture, and tins, and coppers, and stoves, a thorough good rubbing, I declare the mere everyday work of the house was literally a flea-bite in her eyes, (if I may be allowed the expression.) I was hard put to it to find some odd jobs to keep her fully employed; for I had no idea of paying servants the wages I did to support them inidleness and allowing time to hang so heavy on their hands that they must needs sit all the evening picking their fingers to get rid of it. A very praiseworthy and charming point, too, in Norah Connor’s character was, that she was not at all nice about her eating, for as long as the poor ignorant thing had oceans of potatoes, (to use an expressive figure of speech,) she didn’t care about anything else; so, of course, with my usual kindness, I let the good, hard-working soul have just what she wanted, and, in addition, I used to make her eat up all the odds and ends that were in the larder—for I never could bear waste, and didn’t mind what I did for a servant so long as she went on well.
But what pleased me more than all the rest put together indeed, was Mr. Sk—n—st—n’s disgraceful conduct about the business. For when I had finished getting the house to rights—and he couldn’t help noticing how different I had got it to look from the shameful state it was in under Mrs. Burgess’s hands—my husband, in his blessed ignorance, supposed it to be all Miss Norah Connor’s doing; and he even carried it so far as to say to my very face he hoped that now I had got a good servant, I should know how to treat her, and not go disgusting her with the place by working the girl off her legs, as I seemed to have been doing. Of course I told him it was like his impudence, indeed, and that I had no patience with him, for though he was my husband he was no better than a child; and I asked him, how on earth he could ever be such a stupid as to fancy that the improved appearance of the house was all owing to Norah, and how much work he thoughtshewould have done ifIhad not always been looking after her; for didn’t he know, that the mice would play if the cat was away. I told him moreover I was sorry to see that he was very ready to complimentNorah, though he never thought it worth his while to trouble his head for an instant about the labour and fatigueIhad gone through, in being obliged to keep dancing all the day long at the girl’s heels, as I had done. And I wound up by requesting him just for one moment to consider in his own mind what he thought would become of the sailors and the ship, if the pilot didn’t look alive, and neglected to put his best leg foremost for an instant.
But still, on second thoughts, I could hardly be angry withthe poor man, for, of course, what couldhebe expected to know about the plague and worry attendant upon servants. And the more I turned what he said over in my own mind, the more convinced I felt that he was in the wrong and that I was in the right; for, Norah Connor being a new broom, it was only natural that she should sweep clean. Seeing, however, what the woman was capable of getting through, and that she was never happy unless she was doing something, it did seem to me to be quite a sin and a wicked waste of money to go putting out our washing every week as we did—especially as our garden would make such a sweet pretty drying-ground for the things; and the prices I had been giving for Edward’s shirts (4d.each), really did appear to me to be so extravagant. Besides, it is such a dreadful feeling, when you are conscious that you’re paying through the nose for things; and it seems to be so unreasonable for people to make you do so, that it’s quite wonderful to me how they can ever take the money from you in such a way. So, when I came to reflect upon it, I was astonished how I could have been such a stupid as to have gone putting out our washing as I had done, ever since we had been married; and I lost no time in telling Norah that I had forgotten to mention, at the time of engaging her, that we always did our washing at home.
I was quite delighted to see how readily the worthy, industrious creature consented to serve me. As a slight stimulus to further exertions, I told her that I should allow her a pint of beer extra on washing-days, which she seemed to be very grateful for; and I was glad to find that a poor ignorant woman like her was not insensible to my kindness. When it was all settled, I really felt quite happy at having done my duty to dear Edward, for I knew that we were not in a position of life that would warrant our going and flinging our money in the gutter; and that, as his wife, I was bound to save every sixpence of his that I could—especially as, by so doing, I should be able to get a few little odd things for myself out of the housekeeping without bothering him about them.
But though Norah Connor went on very well just at first, still, after a time, she got so frightfully familiar and presuming, that really the woman used to speak to me as if I was her equal; nor could I for the life of me get her to pay methe respect that I felt was due to me. Now, for instance, I remember, one morning, about two months before little Annie was born, I rang the parlour bell, and when the woman came into the room, I said, in a quiet voice, “I want a glass of water to drink, Norah.”
“You want to drink a glass of wather?” she replied. “Well, I’ve no objection. Drink away, darlin’!!
“Then,” I continued, blandly, “I should feel obliged if you would be so good as to let me have one directly.”
“Let you have one?” she exclaimed. “Faith, an’ didn’t I give you permission just now?”
This was past all bearing; but I restrained myself, and merely said, with becoming dignity, “I didn’t have you up stairs, Norah, to know whetheryouwould permitmeto drink a glass of water in my own house, or not.”
To which she replied, as familiarly as if she were speaking to the servant next door, “Well, by my sowl, when I heard you ask me if I’d let you have that same, I thought you mighty stupid at the time. An’ what is it youdowant, then, mavourneen?”
“Why,” I returned, in measured terms, remembering my station, “I want what I told you before, as plainly as a person could speak—a glass of water.”
“Well, then,” she cried, “by the powers! if I were you, I’d get it! Isn’t there plenty down stairs, honey?”
“But,” I continued, calmly, “perhaps you will be kind enough, Norah, to bring me a glass uphere.”
“Och!” she exclaimed, “so, an’ it’s only a glass you’re wantin’ me to fetch you, afther all! A glass wid nothin’ in it, is it you mane?”
“No,” I replied, almost losing my temper, “A glass ofwater, woman, andnota glass without anything in it! Do you understand menow?”
“Out an’ out,” she cried, with a nasty, low wink. “You’d be havin’ a glass of wather wid somethin’ in it! Oh, go along wid you—wanting a drop on the sly, now! You’re takin’ to the bottle, though, betimes this mornin’, I’m thinkin’.”
I’m sure my fair readers can easily imagine that this threw me into such a passion that it quite made my blood boil. I told the fury to hold her tongue, and never dare to open her mouth about such things again. But the impudent hussey only made me worse, for she kept declaring, “mum was theword with Norah,” and saying, “that I needn’t go flurryin’ mysilf about her findin’ out my sly thricks,” and telling me to be “asy, for that the masther should never hear of it from hersilf.”
So that at last, I declare, I was positively obliged to run up stairs into my own bed-room, in order to get rid of the creature. There I threw myself on the sofa, in the most dreadful state of mind, I think, I ever was in all my life; and, torn with all kinds of horrid ideas, I said to myself, “Norah washes very well, it is true—but alas! what washing can compensate me for this!”
What vexed me, though, even more than Norah, was, that when I went to tell my husband, on his return from business that evening, about how the woman had insulted me, he wouldn’t hear a word of it, and said, like a wretch, he was sick and tired of my complaints against the maids, and he never set foot in the house but I had always got some long rigmarole tale about the servant’s bad conduct; adding that it was impossible they should be invariably in the wrong; and he firmly believed it was quite as much, if not more, my fault than theirs. And he even had the impudence to declare, (I thought it best to let him have his own way for once, and go on till he was tired,) that he had quite worry and bother enough of his own at office, and that when he came home, fagged and worn out, to his own fireside, he was determined at least to enjoy peace and quiet at his hearth; and then he asked what on earth I thought he had married me for, (as if I was going to tell him;) when the cruel wretch said—it was only to have a happy home! I told him that it was a nice insult to my own face, indeed, and that he seemed determined to find fault with everything that day, as nothing, however good it was, would please him; whereupon Mr. Sk—n—st—n went on, I’m sure, without knowing what he said, for he declared that I was a millstone round his neck, and the torment of his life; adding, that he begged me once for all to understand, that he wouldnotbe pestered every day with my bickerings with the servants; and he had made up his mind that if ever I opened my mouth to him again on the subject, that he would put on his hat that very moment and go and spend his evening at some tavern, where at least he couldenjoyhimself. Besides, he told me, he could see that Norah was worth her weight ingold to any person who knew how to humour her; for the house had never been so clean ever since we had been married; and the way in which the girl dressed a potato made her so invaluable in his eyes, that he wasn’t going, he could tell me, to have her driven out of the house by me. So that anybody might have seen, like myself, with half an eye, that my gentleman didn’t care so much about “his own fireside” after all, and instead of “his hearth,” indeed, being uppermost in his mind, that really and truly his stomach was at the bottom of it.
As for the matter of that Norah’s potatoes too, I’m sure I couldn’t see anything so wonderful about them. But, of course, Mr. Edward must go thinking them dressed so beautifully, just because they came up in their jackets; though, for my own part, I never could bear the look of the things in their skins; and what’s more, it wasn’t decent to have them coming to table in such a state. And the next day I told my lady as much, adding that she would be pleased to peel the potatoes before bringing them to the parlour for the future, as they were only fit for pigs to eat in the way she sent them up. Whereupon the vixen flew intosucha rage, and abused and swore at me insucha way, calling me everything that was bad, and declaring that she would pay me out for it. And then, in the height of her passion, the spiteful fury, with the greatest coolness in the world, emptied all the dripping out of the frying-pan she was doing some soles in, right into the middle of the nice, brisk, clear fire, and created such a blaze, that I’m sure the flames must have been seen at the top of the house. Knowing that it was just upon our time for having the chimney swept, I felt certain that it must be on fire; and when I rushed out into the garden, there it was, sure enough, raging away, and throwing out volumes of sparks and smoke, just like the funnel of a steam-boat at night-time—with such a horrid smell of burning soot, that all the little boys came running from far and near up to our door, and shrieking out, Fire! Fire! like a pack of wild Indians.
When I went back into the kitchen the spiteful thing was impudent enough to tell me just to look there and see what I had made her do wid my boderations (as she called it), adding, “that it wasn’t herself though that would be afther desarting me in my distriss.” Feeling, however, that it was not the time to talk to her just then, I made her rake out every bit of fire there was in the grate, and after that I told her to run up to the top of the house with a couple of pails full of water, and to get out on the roof and pour it all down the chimney as quick as she could.
Up she went, while I waited below all of a twitter, expecting every minute that I should have a whole regiment of fire-engines come tearing up to the door, and putting us to goodness knows what expense for nothing; when all of a sudden I heard the water come splashing down right into the parlour overhead, and saw in an instant that that stupid thing of a Norah must have got blinded with the smoke up above, and mistaken the chimney, so that she had gone pouring it down all over my beautiful stove in the dining-room. In an instant I put my head up the kitchen chimney and hallooed out to her as loud as ever I could, “No—rah! you must pour it down here.” I declare the words were scarcely out of my mouth when down came such a torrent of water and soot, right in my face and all over my head and shoulders, and down my neck, that anybody to have seen me would have sworn some one had been breaking a large bottle of blacking over my head; while immediately afterwards, as if only to make matters worse, I heard a tremendous shout in the street, and on running to the window I at once knew that the parish engine was at hand: for, tearing along the pavement on the opposite side of the way was a whole regiment of, I should say, twenty or thirty little dirty boys pulling at a rope, and dragging along a nasty, ugly, red, trumpery little machine, which, I’m sure, if the house had been in flames, could have been of no more use to us than a squirt upon four wheels; while the mischievous young urchins kept hurraing away as if it was a good bit of fun, and little thinking that what was sport to them was (as with the toad in the fable) near upon death to me, and a good bit of money out of my pocket into the bargain.
When Norah Connor came down and saw what a pretty pickle both my cap and face were in, the only thing she did was to cry out, “Och, murther, I niver saw such a fright as ye look. What on airth have ye been gettin’ up to now?” and when I told her what had happened, she actually had theimpudence to add, that “sure an’ I wasn’t fit to be trusted alone for two minutes together.” And then, seeing the parish engine at the door, she wanted to go—and I declare it was as much as ever I could do to prevent the fury—rushing out, and (to use her own words) “larruppin’ the Badle—just to tache the dirty blaggeard not to come robbin’ the masther agin in that way.”
However, I was determined not to have the door opened; so after the beadle had hammered away at it like a trunk-maker, for better than half an hour, he grew disgusted and went off with those impudent young monkeys of boys, and that stupid little watering-pot of a parish engine, (if I may be allowed to use so strong an expression.)
When I went into the parlour, it was in such a dreadful state that really it is impossible for me to give my readers any idea of the dirt and filth about it—unless, indeed, I were to say that it was as grubby as one of my father’s coal-barges. I saw that I had got a very pretty week’s work cut out for me, and how Norah would ever be able to get through with it all, I couldn’t say. As for my beautiful bright stove, it was as rusty, and as brown as a poor curate’s coat, and the hearth-rug was as black as the face of that impudent cymbal-player in the Life Guards.
All I know is, that we had to take everything out of the place; and, as I expected Edward to knock at the door every minute, I told Norah to light a fire and lay the cloth for dinner in the drawing-room. When I went up stairs to put myself to rights, it took me full half an hour, and nearly a whole cake of Windsor soap, before even I could bear the look of myself; and all the time I kept inquiring in my own mind, what I had better do in the situation that I was; for positively what between that Norah Connor’s impudence and spite, and my husband’s always taking her side, I really didn’t know how to act; for I felt myself to be (as Edward calls it) on the horns of a dilemma, and was so dreadfully tossed about, that I couldn’t undertake to say whether I was on my head or my heels. So after weighing it well, I determined upon breaking the dreadful news to my husband as gently as I could, directly he set foot in the house, and before he could catch sight of the mess in the dining-room. Accordingly, as soon as I heard his knock I went and opened the doormyself, and while he was hanging his hat up in the hall, I said to him—as kindly as I could, I’m sure—“Oh, Edward! Norahhasbeen going on so to-day, you can’t think.”
The more one does, however, the more one may, and I declare there was no pleasing Mr. Sk—n—st—n that day anyhow; for instead of trying to console me in my distress, he only banged his hat on his head again, and saying, that “It was always servants, servants, servants! from morning till night, and he’d be hung if he’d stand it any longer,” he bounced out of the house again, slamming the door after him like a cannon, and went sulking off to some filthy tavern in the neighbourhood, and never thought fit to return till five-and-twenty minutes past midnight—when he came home with his hair smelling of tobacco-smoke fit to knock one down, and the bow of his stock twisted right round to the side of his neck, and his intellects so muddled, that, do what I would, I couldn’t get him to carry the night candlestick straight, so that he would keep dropping the tallow-grease all over the carpets, as he went up stairs to bed.
In the morning, however, I was determined to let him see that I was not going to put up with his tantrums, indeed; so I never spoke to him all breakfast-time, and although he made, I should say, some dozen advances to me, yet I wasn’t to be carneyed over in that way I could tell him, and so merely gave him a plain “Yes” or “No,” as short and snappishly as I could; consequently, my gentleman hadn’t a very pleasant time of it, and went off to business quite early, thoroughly ashamed of himself, I could see. Nor did I choose to make it up with Mr. Sk—n—st—n until the day came for him to go over the housekeeping expenses, when, as dear Edward paid the money without a single question, I thought I might as well forgive him.
Of course these little breezes didn’t make me relish Miss Norah Connor’s airs any the better, though she certainly did her work very well, and I couldn’t find any fault with her about that. Still, as I felt that she was destroying my peace of mind, and was reallysoimpudent to me, I couldn’t help considering it a duty I owed to my husband to get rid of her as quickly as I could. As for her being an excellent servant too, why of course I knew there was as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it; and besides, NorahConnor really appeared to me to have been brought up at Billingsgate.
But in a short timethatNorah gave me such a dose, that not knowing what she might treat me to after it, I really should have been worse than a child if I had taken it quietly. For one afternoon I was in the kitchen, and if the hussey didn’t spill a whole basinful of water on the floor, and then actually seemed in no way inclined to wipe up the slop on the boards, so I begged she would just take a cloth, and do it immediately. But the minx replied, “Och! sure an’ don’t it always soak in, in my counthry,” which was a good deal more than I felt I ought to put up with. So I told her very plainly, “that her country, then, whatever it was, must be a filthy dirty place, and only fit for a set of pigs to wallow in.” No sooner were the words out of my mouth, than she turned round sharp upon me, and shrieking out, “Hoo! hubbaboo!” (or some such savage gibberish), seized the kitchen carving-knife, which was unfortunately lying on the table, and kept brandishing it over her head, crying out, “Hurrah for ould Ireland! the first jim of the sa!—and a yard of cowld steel for them as spakes agin’ her!” Then she set to work, chasing me round and round the kitchen table, jumping up in the air all the while, and screaming like one of the celebrated wild cats of Kilkenny. I flew like lightning, and she came after me like anything. I declare the vixen kept so close to my heels, that I expected every minute to feel the knife run into me between my shoulders, just where I had been cupped when I was a child; and the worst of it was there wasn’t even so much as a dish-cover or a saucepan-lid near at hand that I might use as a shield, and I couldn’t help fancying that every moment my gown would go catching in one of the corners of the table, and that the fury would seize hold of me by my back hair in a way, that even if I wasn’t killed by the fright on the spot, would at least turn my head for life. But, luckily, being a slighter-made woman than Norah, the breath of the tigress failed her before mine did, and while she stopped to breathe a bit, I rushed up the kitchen-stairs—shot into the parlour—locking and bolting the door after me—and threw myself into the easy chair, where I sat trembling like a blancmange, determined not to leave the room until Edward came home, when I wouldcertainly tell him all about Norah’s wicked behaviour to me. And yet after he had told me so often as he had that he hoped the subject would drop, I declare I was half afraid to throw myself upon him for protection.
Nor was I mistaken in my man, for directly I said to Mr. Sk—n—st—n, “I have a disagreeable duty to perform this evening, Edward: the fact is, Norah—” the wretch cut me short, and cried out, “What! you’re at it again, eh? Norah! Norah! nothing but Norah? Why the deuce can’t you leave the poor woman alone for a minute.” And so saying, the aggravating monster turned on his heel and went and dined out again.
This had such an effect upon me, that I felt I couldn’t touch a morsel of the dinner, (although it was a rabbit smothered in onions, which I’m very partial to;) so I sat in my chair, sobbing away, until Norah came into the room to know whether she should bring the rabbit up. Yes; there the minx was, as calm and cool as if nothing at all had happened; for, to do the woman justice, her rage never lasted long,—when once it was over, why she had done with it—and I really believe that she couldn’t help it, after all. When the stony-hearted tigress saw me crying, she came up to me, and laying her hand on my back in the most familiar and feeling manner, said, in her usual impudent way, “Come, darlin’! don’t be afther frettin’ the eyes out of your head now! Sure an’ isn’t it mysilf that’s given you my pardin long ago if that’s what you’re wantin’.”
I merely begged of her to leave the room, adding, that I was surprised that she should think of coming up to me.
“Well, may be,” she replied, with all the coolness imaginable, “it does, no doubt, seem mighty kind of me to do the likes, after all ye said and did to me, too,—puttin’ my blood up, and well nigh makin’ me murther ye, as ye did. Ah, it was too bad of ye—so it was! But you’re sorry for it, I see, and Norah isn’t the girl to bear malice, sure.”
The woman’s impudence really took me so aback, that all I could do was to echo her own words and exclaim, in astonishment, “I’m—sorry—for it!”
“I’m glad to hear you say ye are, so I am,” she continued. “But sure an’ you’re my misthress, and I wont let ye be afther lowerin’ yersilf by askin’ for my pardin, as yeare. So come, say no more about it, mavourneen; but just thry to ate a bit, if it’s the smallest taste in life now, or ye’ll go makin’ yersilf out an’ out ill for my sake.”
And really and truly the stupid thing would keep bothering me so, that being frightened out of my wits lest I should offend her again, I had to try and eat some of the rabbit, (which was very delicious,) nor would she leave me until she had made me drink off a glass of wine, (which certainly did me a great deal of good.) Indeed, altogether, the curious compound of a woman pitied me so, and was so kind and attentive to me, that I wished to goodness gracious she could only get rid of her horrible temper, and then I should not be obliged to prevail upon Edward to turn her out of the house, as I must.
The next morning, I took an opportunity, at breakfast, of getting my husband to listen to what Norah had done to me; and then, if he hadn’t the coolness to ask me why I had not told him all about it when he came home to dinner the day before. But I made him heartily ashamed of himself by reminding him that he had bounced out of the house like a cracker directly I opened my mouth to him on the subject. Whereupon he remarked that I had cried “Wolf” so often, that there was no knowing when I was really in trouble.
However, though Mr. Sk—n—st—n has his little peculiarities, still I must say he is not so very bad a man at heart, after all, for he looked at Norah’s shameful goings on towards me in a very proper light, observing, that after what I had said to a woman of her passionate disposition, it was a mercy that she hadn’t killed me on the spot. Though, of course, he couldn’t let well alone, but must go and side with Miss Norah in the end; for he told me that I ought not to have insulted the girl in the way I had, and that if, in her anger, she had put an end to my life—though the woman would have suffered for it—stillIshould have been nearly as much to blame asshewas; adding, that it really struck him, that if I happened to get hold of a good, honest, industrious servant, who merely wanted to be humoured a little, that I must needs go driving continually at her weak point, until I forced her out of the house; for I seemed to think that the wages were all that was due from the mistress to her servants, forgettingthat I had undertaken to make my house their home, and that if I stripped it of all the attributes of one, and converted it into a prison instead, where they were to see no friends, and be kept to so many months’ hard labour, why, it was only natural that they, poor things, finding I had forgotten my duty to them, should, in their turn, forget their duty to me. Besides, he added, I should remember that though there was little or no excuse for the mistress’s non-performance of her part of the contract, still some allowance should be made for the poor creatures, whose very deficiencies of education made them often do wrong merely because they had never been lucky enough to have learnt better. And then he had the impudence to ask me what I should say if, when I asked my next servant what kind of a character she could have from her last mistress, the girl in return were to ask me what kind of a characterIcould have from my lastservant? I told him that I should say that it was very like her impudence, indeed, and tell her to get out of the house directly—adding, that I never heard of such an absurd idea in all my life before.
“Of course,” Edward replied, smiling at what I had said, (though I’m sure I could see nothing to laugh at;) “and yet, perhaps, it is not quite so absurd a notion as you seem to fancy. You forget that the girl comes into your house to be subject to your every little whim and caprice, and that not only her bread, but also her comfort and happiness are dependent uponyourcharacter; and it stands to reason, from the very nature of things, that the slave must suffer more from the tyrant, than the tyrant can possibly suffer from the slave.”
I told him very plainly that I had no patience with him, talking in such a way about tyrants and slaves, indeed, and that they were sentiments only worthy of a low radical meeting. I was quite pleased, however, when I dumbfounded him, by asking him how he ever thought society would get on upon such dreadful principles?—adding, that for my own part, I would have everybody who went putting such horrid ideas into the poor ignorant things’ heads drawn and quartered as they used to be in the good old times. And I told him, too, that as he seemed to know so much about the management of servants, I should just like tohear how he would behave to Miss Norah after chasing me round the table with a knife in her hand, as she had; and that of course I supposed he would carry out his fine principles with her, and go making the toad a present for it—just as an encouragement for the future. But he merely replied, that he should do no such thing; adding, that I should see how he would act, for he would have her up then and there, and talk to her. Accordingly, he rang the bell, and in my lady came.
“Shut the door, Norah; I want to speak to you,” he began; and when she had done so, he continued—“Your mistress has been telling me about this sad affair with the knife, Norah.”
“Yes, masther,” she replied, with her usual impudence; “but sure an’ I’ve forgotten it all long ago—so I have. Wasn’t it myself that tould her I’d think no more about it.”
“Yes; but, Norah,” he continued, “don’t you think that it’s you who require your mistress’s forgiveness, after attempting her life, as you did yesterday.”
“Thrue, masther,” answered Norah; “but, faith, an’ didn’t she say that ould Ireland, the first jim of the sa, was a pigsty, and I thought of nothing else at all at all.”
“Well, now, listen to me, Norah,” he said. “Perhaps I should astonish you if I were to tell you that you could be transported for what you did to your mistress yesterday.”
“Thransported, did ye say,” she replied. “An’ sure an’ the misthress had no rights to be afther blaggearding my counthry as she did.”
“No, Norah,” he replied; “that was very inconsiderate ofher; but it was both wicked and mad ofyouto think that you could add to your country’s honour by shedding the blood of one whom you were bound to respect.”
“Thrue, again, Masther,” she answered, with consummate impudence. “But, by my sowl, we are a warrm-hearted people, so we are; an’ when the blood’s up, Pat hasn’t time to be thinkin’ of thrifles.”
“Exactly so; and it is for that reason, Norah,” continued my husband, “that persons like ourselves are frightened to live in the same house with you.”
“Frighthined was it ye were saying,” she replied; “sure an’ if you’re good to us, don’t we take it to heart as warrmly aswhen ye trate us badly. But, by St. Pathrick, it’s the bad we forgit, and the good we remimber. Faith, an’ the masther hisself will say that!”
“I cannot deny it,” returned Edward; “and, indeed, it is solely on that account, Norah, that I speak to you in the temperate manner I am at present doing; for I know that it is the character of your nation to be touched by a kind word, while you are only enraged by a harsh one.”
“Faith, an’ that’s what we are,” cried the woman, who really looked as if she was going out of her wits on the spot. “An’ blessings on the masther who said that same. An’ by the powers, it isn’t Norah that’ll be the dirty blaggeard ever to lave him as long as she lives.”
“Yes, but, Norah,” returned my husband, with certainly more reason than I ever gave him credit for, “after your conduct to your mistress, I should be forgetting my duty to her, were I to consent to your remaining with me.”
“Och, murther!” she exclaimed, as cool as ever. “You niver mane to say that you’ll be afther driving Norah from your door?”
“Yes, Norah,” he answered, with a firmness that astonished me; “this day month, if you please! You can go down to your work again now.”
“Ah, niver say it—niver say it, honey,” she cried, with the tears starting in her eyes—“ah, niver say it. Only let Norah stop wid ye, and by St. Pathrick there’s nothing she’ll be thinking too good for ye. Sure, and wont she work night and day for ye both. Oh! spake a word to him, misthress, and say ye wont be after puttin’ my blood up agin, and I’ll be as kind and good to the pair of ye as if ye were my own dear childer.”
“No, Norah!” my husband replied; “it is useless to think that you and your mistress can ever live amicably together; and my mind is made up. So go down stairs quietly, like a good soul, and don’t let me hear anything more about it.”
I’m sure I never witnessed in all my life such a scene as followed. I declare that Norah went on more like a mad thing than a Christian. At one moment, she was crying like a child, at another, she was raving like a maniac. Now she was all penitence, and the very next minute, her eyes were starting out of her head, and she was swearing to be revenged; and she hadno sooner finished blessing us, in case we let her stop, than she would set to work and heap on our heads, if we sent her away, all kinds of the most dreadful curses one could think of, and which quite made my flesh crawl, I declare.
But Edward was very stern, and wouldn’t give in in the least; so that at last, Norah, finding all her tears thrown away upon us, and that she was only wasting her breath by going on in the way she did, turned round, and swearing that we shouldn’t send her away, went down to the kitchen again. On going to the top of the stairs and listening, I could hear her muttering all kinds of dreadful things against me, though I’m sureIhadn’t given her warning, and couldn’t see thatIhad done so much towards her, after all. But the fact was, the creature I knew had had a spite against me ever since she set foot in the house.
I went back into the parlour, and asked Edward just to come and listen how the woman was raving, but he is such a stupid, obstinate man, that he wouldn’t oblige me, and said that it was a meanness that any decent person would be ashamed of doing.
Really I was so frightened of the woman after what I had heard her say she would do to me, that I asked Edward whether he hadn’t better make it up with her this once, and tell Norah that she might stop—for as she had promised to work night and day for us, it really struck me that she couldn’t do more, and that she was a treasure that we ought not to think of parting with just for a hasty word or so. But of course Mr Sk—n—st—n must have his own way, and can’t believe any one to be in the wrong but his wife, for he merely answered, that it was ridiculous to think of it, for Norah was as combustible as a barrel of gunpowder, and I was no better than a brimstone match to her. Whereupon I very properly said that I didn’t know what on earth he meant by his brimstone indeed, and that as for the matter of matchesheneedn’t talk, for I could tell him that he was more than a match for anybody—so come! Then he went on with some more of his high-flown rubbish upon what I had said about the woman’s own offer to work night and day for us, telling me that I seemed to look upon all servants as mere bundles of muscles, without for one moment thinking that the poor things had a heart as well as I had; towhich I, with my usual satire, answered—“Did I! then it only showed how much he knew about it.”
As soon as Mr. Sk—n—st—n had left the house, and I had seen him well off, I just slipt on my bonnet and shawl, and stept round to dear mother’s, to ask the good soul for some of her valuable advice under the painful circumstances.
Dear mother said she was truly gratified to find me flying to her bosom in my moments of peril, and told me, with beautiful affection, that she only lived for me and my father’s business now; though what with her duty to me and my husband, my coming to her did place her so awkwardly, that she really felt as if she was between two fires, and if she turned her face to one, she would have the other on her back. She said it all amounted to this—If she rowed in the same boat as myself, and went against Edward, she must run him down in my presence, which would pain her much to do; or else she must throw me overboard, and sink her own child in order to find favour in Mr. Sk—n—st—n’s eyes; so that I must see what a trying position hers was, and how wrong it was of me, as matters stood, to ask her to express any opinion upon my husband’s shameful, indecent, and, she would add, unmanly conduct. Of course, it would never do for her, she said, to tell me that he had behaved to me worse than a savage. But still this she would say, that ifherhusband, my own father, had behaved toherone half as brutally as Mr. Sk—n—st—n had tome, that she would not have stopped in the house of the monster another moment; and that though he had come after her the very next day, begging and praying of her to return—as of course he would—still she would have turned a deaf ear to all his entreaties, and insisted upon having a handsome separate maintenance from the wretch, and never willingly have set eyes upon him again. Not that she wished me to understand that she was counselling me to do anything of the kind—far from it; for, as she truly observed, she trusted she knew herself too well to be in any way instrumental to the separation of husband and wife; as it must be very clear to me, she added, that if through anything she said, I might be induced to pack up whatever dresses and jewellery Mr. Sk—n—st—n had presented me with, and leave my ungrateful husband for ever, that maybe, when my dear little innocent babe was born, I might repent of my rashstep, and visit her with it. This, she told me, she felt would be a dreadful punishment to her, and a return, indeed, that she little dreamt of. So she really must again beg and pray to be allowed to remain perfectly neutral in the business; especially as from the insight she had had into Mr. Sk—n—st—n’s character of late, she was sure that he would not act towards me as he ought, but would settle on me an allowance that would scarcely procure me the common necessaries of life. And how I was to live then, she would not attempt to say.
Concerning Norah, however, she said it was quite a different thing, and that she felt no such delicacy about taking that matter in hand, as, from the experience she had had in the management of servants, (which, of course, Mr. Sk—n—st—n could not possibly understand anything about, or he would have known that kindness was utterly thrown away upon the creatures,) she flattered herself that she would very soon bring the woman to her senses, indeed. So she would slip her things on that very moment, and step round with me to Miss Norah, although I told her that she was too good to me, and that I was afraid that I was riding the willing horse to death when I saddled her with the baggage.
When we reached our cottageorné, I allowed dear mother to go down into the kitchen by herself, thinking it best not to interfere between her and that spitfire of a Norah, as there was no knowing what the consequences might be. I shouldn’t think she could have been away five minutes, when up she came rushing into the room, with her face as white as the head of a cauliflower, and all of a tremble, just like a steam-boat. As soon as she had recovered her breath, (which indeed, has been bad for these many years past,) she declared that it was quite a mercy she had even been able to escape with her life up the kitchen stairs, as she never had stood face to face with such a fury in all her born days before; for directly she told the woman that she ought to be ashamed of herself for the way in which she had treated so kind a mistress, and that, for her part, she only wished that she had the management of her, and she would take good care to rule her with a rod of iron,—when, no sooner had she said as much, than the dragon screamed out, “A rod of iron, is it?” and snatching up the heavy kitchen poker, sworethat, by the powers, if mother didn’t lave the kitchen directly, she would crack her ugly ould nob for her like a cocoa-nut, saying the likes of her had no rights in the kitchen at all at all, and she’d just tache her not to put her foot in it agin. Then she twisted about the great heavy kitchen poker over her head, and began capering and screaming away, and then, giving vent to a horrible oath, the fury flew after poor dear mother, and followed her half way up the kitchen stairs; and mother said she really believed if the vixen could have caught hold of her, that she would have been a melancholy corpse that moment—adding, that if she were me, she would go down stairs that very minute, and turn the blood-thirsty tigress out of the house, neck and crop. When I very properly observed, that as she had so kindly undertaken the management of the creature for me, I felt I should not like to take it out of her hands, she said that as Norah Connor seemed to object very naturally to her interference, she would have nothing more to do with her—as, upon second thoughts, it certainly was no place of hers.
When my mother found that I was determined not to have anything more to do with Miss Norah, she said that if I chose to let the fury remain in the house, I must abide by the consequences, and that if the spiteful creature poisoned the whole family, I must not blame her. Indeed, the woman was clearly so mad about leaving, that mother would stake her existence that it wouldn’t be long before the vixen gave us such a dose of arsenic—either in the pudding, the soup, or the vegetables, or something—as would put a miserable end to both Edward and myself. And I declare dear mother frightened me so by what she said, that I really couldn’t get the arsenic out of my head for weeks.
Edward only laughed at me for my suspicions, and called me a stupid woman, and pooh-poohed me in a most unfeeling manner. But the worst of it was, that though he assured me he knew the disposition of Norah Connor better than I did, still everything conspired to convince me that I was adoomed woman—for the very day dear mother had filled my mind with the horrid idea, I declare, if I didn’t knock down the looking-glass off the dressing-room table and break it all to shivers, which of course fully persuaded me that a death must shortly occur in the family. And again, one evening,after tea, when I was sitting by the fire with dear Edward, if as perfect a coffin as ever I saw in all my life didn’t jump out from between the bars, and fell upon the hearth-rug just close to my feet, while upon turning round, who can imagine my horror when I saw hanging to the side of the candle one of the clearest winding-sheets that I think I ever beheld.
I now perceived that there was no escape for me; for though the looking-glass might mean any one in the family, and the coffin was quite as near Edward as myself, still, alas! there was no mistaking the winding-sheet, for it pointed right at me, and said, as plainly as it could speak, “Caroline Sk—n—st—n, beware!” so that, when I put the looking-glass, and the coffin, and the winding-sheet together, I wished anybody but myself would stand in my shoes, for it was clear that I had already got one foot in the grave.
All this took such a hold of my mind, and I could see the linger of fate pointing at me so plainly, that I declare I hadn’t courage to eat anything for weeks, and so lost, by my foolish fears, many excellent good dinners; for, indeed, I derived my chief nourishment from common penny buns—and which really had so little in them to satisfy me, that I declare I have very often eaten as many as fourteen a day—though in the end I really found that I was falling away rapidly; for my fair readers must be fully aware that it is utterly impossible to keep body and soul together with penny buns. And I declare I had such a surfeit of the puffy blown-out things, that really I have never been able to bear the sight of them since.
And thus I went on, starving myself to death by inches, until one day, Edward, having won a cause, dined at Westminster with the witnesses; and then if a dog in the street didn’t keep howling and crying all the evening, like anything—just opposite our house. When my husband returned, he let out, quite by accident, whilst I was asking him about what they had given him for dinner, that there were thirteen at table! This completely quieted my fears, for I now plainly saw that all the dreadful omens pointed at my husband and not at myself, while the simple fact of the dog howling all the time the thirteen were at dinner, completely convinced me that I was destined before long towear weeds.
The next day—as I now saw Fate had singled out its victim, and that my dear Edward, and not myself, was doomed to be the melancholy martyr of Miss Norah’s poisonous designs—I thought I might as well make a good dinner for the first time these three weeks—though, with my usual prudence, I determined to get some favourite dish for my poor husband, so that he might enjoy it all to himself, and so that I might not be called upon to partake of the same food as he did. But, that day, thank goodness, Edward delighted me by bringing home one of his country agents, a Mr. Fl—m—ng, to dinner with him; so I at once saw that, as I carved, I should have an opportunity of trying the effect of the different dishes upon the visitor before allowing my dear husband to peril his precious life by partaking of them. For as I had to choose whether Edward, who is a tolerably good husband, or Fl—m—ng, who is far from a profitable agent, should fall a victim to Norah’s spite, of course I could not help preferring the lesser evil, and sacrificing my guest in order to save my spouse. So I took good care, all through dinner, that directly my Edward expressed a wish to taste such and such a dish, to prevail upon Mr. Fl—m—ng to try some of the same before I allowed my husband to touch it, in order that I might observe what effect it had upon him, poor man, before helping my dear Edward. But with all my care, nothing would satisfy my self-willed husband, of course, but some of the very veal cutlets that I’d had cooked for myself, and which I’d made a point of not asking Mr. Fl—m—ng to touch, in order that I might have them all to myself; so that there was I obliged, after all, to make my dinner off potatoes and cheese.
Indeed, all that week—which, thank heavens, was to be the last of Norah Connor’s stay with us—I took care always to have a friend to dinner; so that, by this innocentruse de guerre, I might keep my husband at least out of danger. And so, thank goodness, I did; though, as it turned out, I had only been starving myself upon penny buns, and trembling at every meal for the life of Mr. Sk—n—st—n, all to no good at all; for I verily believe now, from the way in which Norah parted with us, and the sorrow she showed at so doing, that the poor woman really was too much attached to us by half ever to dream of putting an end to us in so unfeeling a manner.
When the day came for her to go, I declare the poor thing was dreadfully cut up, and cried like a child; for she said she knew what I had suspected her of, and told me, in quite a touching way, that “maybe her timper was warrm, but still, by the powers, it wasn’t Norah that would iver in cowld blood harrm the hair of my head, and that she wouldn’t have tould me she was Cornwall, sure, hadn’t she known that to say she came from Ould Ireland was like taking the blissed brid from her mouth, and sartin to make me and my counthry people turn our backs upon her, for sure and weren’t the Saxons always puttin’ at the bottom of their adver-tyze-mints, No Irish need apply.”
We parted the best of friends, and I gave the poor, honest, hard-working, open-hearted creature, either five shillings or half-a-crown (I can’t exactly say which now), though I’m nearly certain it was the larger sum, and for a quarter-of-an-hour at least she stood on the door-step and did nothing but call me her mavourneen, and macree, and a quantity of other outlandish names, and kept invoking blessings on my head, and sobbing away as though she reallyhadgot, as Edward said a heart to break.