THE COOK, THE HOUSEMAID, AND A MONTH'S WAGES.

Waikato Argus, Volume VI, Issue 434, 13 May 1899, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE COOK, THE HOUSEMAID, AND A MONTH'S WAGES.

An acquaintance of mine called upon an acquaintance of hers the other afternoon and found her in tears and a long white apron—also in the kitchen. ' Why, what's the matter?' ' My dear, I'm getting ready to cook the dinner.' 1 So I see, but whero are the servants !' ' I've just seut them out, bag and baggage.' ' Both of them i' ' Both of them ? Do you know what they were ? They were vipers !' Aud in the intervals of singeing a, chickeu, raking tho fire, peeling potatoes, and washing cranberries, the tearful one told this tale : ' I came in from shopping two hours ago, very quietly, 1 suppose, thongh I didn't realise it at the time, aud went upstairs to my room, where I lay dosvn on a divan iu a dark corner to rest, not to sleep. I may have do3od off for a moment, but if so was quickly awakened by a woman's voice—that of the cook. ' She was saying : 'Ah, she'll be out gaddiu' for an hour yet.' ' Surely I must be dreaming !' ' Then'the gentle tones of my German maid, Louisa: ' Veil, Kit 'em out 'an ve'll try dem on yet. Hurry ! I vos nervous.' 'I felt wide awake now, I promise you ! I turned over quietly and obtaiued a full view of them.

' Cook had opened my clcset, taken down my latest hat—that beautiful blue one, you—and was pinning it on to her tously head. ' Then she paraded up and dowu before the mirror with an air of great complacency. ' I'll be gettio' ono like this next week,' she said- 'lt's a blame sight more becomin' like a peanut.' ' And this was the woman to whom I'd given a watch at Christmas !' ' Dis is fine,' murmured Louisa, and then as 1 gazed at her my horror increased. She was coiling my lovely boi of silver fox around her neek, and was tip-toeing to peep into the glass. ' Yes, yc look well in that,' remarked the cook. 'Maybe ye cud sneak it the night ye go to the schutzeufest ball.' ' Lousia gas-ped.' ' I'd be too frightened,' she said. ' But don't I look veil in it ? She was too old yet to wear dis. She dresses too young already anyway.' « Faith, an' that she does,' assented the cook. ' Kapc your ears open to if the front door shuts.'

' Then she pulled out my hce parasol and opened it. ' Say, d'y e know that thi< niver cost a cint less than 25d0l ? 'LV ilea of her a spendin that poor man's money like this ! An' he a workin' night an' day ! Funny luck some women have !' 1 An' I don't see vat he sees in her anyvay,' said Louisn. ' You ought to hear 'em sometimes fight yet.' ' Arrah ! (»od know 3 I've heard 'em often enough,' snid the oiok, ' She had the timper of a she iivil?' ' Cook,' said I quietly,' ' isn't it near dinner time ?'

' Well, you never participated in such a sickening silence in your life ? ' For a moment I could actually feel those two women trembling. Then they rushed away aud I was alone.' ' I gave them each a mou'h's wages and ordered them to pack and be out of the house in an hour. They went without a word, and I have lost my faith i» human nature, hut don't propose to lose my dinner.'—-New York World.