"LOTS OF THINGS."

Auckland Star, Volume I, Issue 237, 12 October 1870, Page 2

"LOTS OF THINGS."

[The following is a sketch taken fron the " Trials and Confessions of an American Housekeeper." In the Trans-allantic states, where servants or "helps" are often very scarce, many domestic difficulties have to be encountered —amongst which the Americans include the necessity of engaging Irish servants. The inhabitants of the sister isle make, when properly taught, the best and most faithful servants, and are then much sought after; but when just landed from the remote rural districts of Ireland on the quay at New York, and in the anxiety of procuring a situation, professing much more than she understands, the blunders fallen into by the Irish domestics arc easily accounted for. The national characteristics of apreeableness and good-humour, however, generally compensate to some extent for the novitiate's inability.]

" O dear!" said 1 to Mr. Smith osio. morning, as we arose from the break fast-table, at which we had been partaking of rather a badly cooked meal—" more trouble in prospect." " What's the matter now ?" asked Mr. Smith, with a.certain emphasis on the word " now," that didn't sound just agreeable to my ears. " Oh, nothing ! nothing !" I answered, with as much indifference of manner as I could assume. "You spoke of trouble," said he, kindly, "and trouble, in my experience, is rather more tangible than ' nothing.' " " I've another raw Irish girl in tho kitchen, who, according to lier own confession, hasn't been above ten days in the country —isn't that enough." " I should think so. But, why, in the name of goodness, did you take another of these r/reen islanders into your house ?" " It's oasy enough to ask questions, Mr. Smith," said I, a little fretfully ; " but—" I checked myself. We looked at each other, smiled, and —said no more on the subject. " Your name is Anna, I believe ?" said I, as I stepped to the kitchen door, a couple of hours afterwards. " Tliot's me name," replied the new domestic. " I will send home a loin of veal and some green ].-eas," said 1... "They are for dinner, which must be ready at two o'clock. You -know how to roast a piece of veal, I pre Biime ?" "Lave me for thot same, honey !" " And the green peas ?" "All. right, mum. I've lived in quality houses since I was so high. I can cook onything." " Very well, Anna. Wo will see. I have to go out this morning ; and you' must do the best you can. Don't fail to have dinner ready by two o'clock. Mr. Smith is a very punctual man." Anna was profuse in her prom_3es. • "If,*' said I, recollecting myself, as I was about opening the street door, and r. turning along the passage —"if anything is sent home for me, be su'-e to take it up stairs and lay it carefully on my bed." t ' j. " Yes, mum." "Now, don t forget this, Anna." " Och! niv.er fear at all, mum," was the girl's answer, '' I'll not forget a word iv y'r insthructions." .

I turned away and left the house. My principal errand was a Tisit to the milliner's, where I wished to see a bonnet I had ordered, before it was sent home. It was this bonnet I referred to when I desired Anna to place carefully on the bed in my chamber anything that might come home. On my way to the milliner's I stopped at the grocer's and made selections of various things that were needed.

The bonnet proved just to my taste. It was a delicate white spring bonnet, with a neat trimming, and pleased my fancy wonderfully.

"The very thing," said I the moment my eves rested upon it. "Do you want a box?" asked the milliner, after I had decided to take the bonnet, "I have one," was my answer. " O, very well, I will send the bonnet home in a box, and you can take it out.' " Thai will do." "Shall I send it home this morning? "Ifyou phase." " Very well. I'll see that it is done. After this I made a number of calls, which occupied me till after 1 o'clock, when I turned my face homeward. On arriving I was admitted by my new girl, and as the thought of my bonnet now returned to my mind, my first words wore : "Has anything been sent home for me, Anna ?'■ " Och ! yis indade, mum," was her answer —"lots o' things." " Lots of things ?" said I, with manifest surprise; for I only remembered at the moment, my direction to the milliner to send home my bonnet. "Vis, indado !" responded the girl. " Lots. And the mon brought 'em on the funniest whalebarry ye iver seed." " On a "wheelbarrow ?" " Vis, And such a whalebarry ! It had a whale on each side, as I'm a livin' sinner, mum; and a cunnin' little whale in front, cocked 'way up intill tho air, thot didu't touch nothiii' at ali-at ail! There's no eich whalebarrys as thot same in Ireland, me leddv." i "And what did you do with the lots of things brought on this wheelbarrow?" said I now beginning to comprehend the girl. " Put them on y'r bed sure." "On my bed !" I exclaimed iv consternation. "Sure, and didn't I remember the last words ye spake till me? ' Anna,' saysyc — ' Anna, if onytbing is sent home for me, be sure to take it carefully up stairs and lay it on my bed.' And I did thot same. Sure, I couldn't have found a nicer place if I had gonii the house over. " •' Turning from the girl I hastened up-stairs. It was as I had too good reason to fear. Such a sight as met my eyes ! In the centre of my bed, with its snowy white Marseilles covering, were piled "lots of things,"and no mistake ! Sugf»r, tea, cheese, coffee, soap, and various other articles—not excepting a bottle of olive oil, from the started cork of which was gently oozing a slender stream—lay in a jumbled heap; while on a satin damask'covered chair, ; reposed a greasy ham. For a moment I stood confounded. Then, giving the bell a violent jerk, I awaited, iv angry impatience, the appearance of Auna, who, in due time, after going to the street door, found her way to my chamber. " Anna !" I exclaimed, " what in the name of goodness possessed you to do this?" Ana I pointed to the bed. " Sure, and ye towld me till put them on ver bed." "I told you no such thing* you stupid creature ! * I said if a bonnet came, to put it on the bed." " Och! sorry a word did ye iver say about a bonnet, mum. It's the first time I iver heard ony thing about a bonnet from yer blessed lips. And tho_'_. thrue." "Where is my bonnet, then ? Did one come homo ?" " Plase, mum, and there did. And a purty one it is, too, as iver my two eyes looked upon." " What did you do with it ?" I enquired, with a good deal of concern. " It's safe in thot great mahogany closet, mum," she replied, pointing to my wardrobe. I stepped quickly to the " mabogany closet," and threw open the door. Alas! for my poor bonnet! It was crushed in between two of Mr. Smith's coats, and tied to a peg by the strings, which were, of course, crumpled to a degree that made them useless. "Too bad! Too bad!" I murmered, as I disengaged the bonnet from its unhappy companionship with broadcloath. As it came to the light, my eyes fell upon two dark spots on the front, the uumistakeable piints of Anna's greasy fingers. This was too much ! I tossed it in a, moment of passion on the bed, where, in contact with the " lots of things," it received its final touch of ruin from a portion of the oozing contents of the sweet-oil bottle. Of the scene that followed. I will not trust myself to write. I was not, of course, in a ■very agreeable humour; and the record of what I said and did, aud how I looked, would be in no way flattering to my own good opinion of myself, nor prove particularly edifying to the reader.