HOW FIVE BACHELORS KEPT HOUSE.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume I, Issue 15, 13 April 1867, Page 3

HOW FIVE BACHELORS KEPT HOUSE.

It was a warm evening' in early June, and in the parlour of a pleasant house in the handsome city of Leamington a merry party of young- folks were holding a warm, laughing discussion. Susy Arnold, the young hostess, who kept house for her two brothers, Harry and George, took one side of the question, while three other gentlemen, beside her tall brothers, opposed her. Charley Grey, a blue-eye i, curley-headed man, whose fair round face and boyish air formed an apparent contradiction to the assertion he made of having five years before he attained his majority; Joe Morris, who from a Spanish mother inherited jetty hair and eyes, and a pale complexion, and from his father a tall, fine figure and a frank, ingenuous expression ; and Darces, whose small figure and bashful ways accounted fully for his nickname Minnie; these three, with the masters of the house, waged playful war upon the little brown-eyed maiden who sat so demurely upon tho sofa. "Say what you please," said Susy, " you will never convince me of the superiority of man in the capacity of housekeeper." " But I maintain," cried Joe, " that men can keep house without women, but that women cannot do so, unless we will assist them."

“ For instance,” said Harry, “ when Mary was ill last winter, Sue, how would such a mite as you are have brought up

coal, kept up the fire, unless vour two brothers had gallantly relieved you of the care ? ” “ Not to mention that the fire went out three times in one day.” a Ah, true!” said George, laughing. “That was my fault; but ‘ accidents will sometimes happen in the best regulated families.’ ” “I wish you could only keep house; for I would accept Aunt Jane's invitation to travel with her this summer, were it not for leaving you.” “ I have an idea,” here cried Charley Grey—“an idea which, if you will agree to act upon it, shall fully cure the women of the insane notion of their indispensibility—ahem! that word nearly choked me." “ The gallant sentence should have quite strangled you,” said Susy. “ Present company always excepted,” was the reply. “ The idea! let’s have the idea ! ” “ Suppose we keep house here, whil# Susy travels.” “ Here ! ” cried Susy, aghast, '‘Yes, why not '! ” “ But,” said Susy, “ I’m sure Mary would not stay.” “We don’t want her; we want no women.” Visions of muddy boots on her parlour sofas, cigars in the flower-vases, pipe? on. the centre-tables, and frying-pans in tho library, flitted through the young lady’s mind; but before she could' remonstrate, Harry said—“So be it I Hurra for bachelor’s hall. Pack up your trunk, Susy !” “But Harry ” “ Glorious G’ cried Charley, “not a petticoat within the doors for a month,” “ But” —again said poor Susy. “No fusses about tobacco-smoke in the curtains,” chimed in George. “ But, brother ” “ Won’t it be gav ?” said Minnie. “ Gay ! ” groaned the little housekeeper, “ Lay in a supply of cigars, George,” suggested Joe. “‘When do you go, Miss Susy ? ” “ Monday! Aunt Jane’s letter said Monday ! ” said Harry. “ Monday, then! We will come, bag and baggage, on Monday morning. “ On an express stipulation that not a woman performs a stroke of work for us for a month.” With many a flourish, amidst tho gayest jests, George wrote out a solemn contract, by which they bound themselves to ask no service of any kind at woman's hand for one month from the date of the following Monday, June—, 1860, and all put their signatures to the important document.

Susy, seeing that her brothers really were in earnest, tried to think she was glad to go, and added her laughing directions to the many schemes proposed. At a later hour, the conclave broke up, and Susy retired with a head full of plans and a heart full of sore misgivings. Monday morning rose fair and clearSix o’clock saw Susy drive away from the door in a carriage, the trunk strapped behind, the lady’s pretty travelling-dress and the shawl of her cousin, all bespeaking travel. Seven saw the servant depart, to spend a month with her mother in the country. Nine o’clock witnessed the meeting of the merry young bachelors. “ Now then,” said George, after the first greetings were over, “ 1, as the eldest host, will take the charge to-day. “As Susy savs, ‘when are you going to town

“ I have nothing to do to-day, so I’ll stay to assist you,” said Minnie. “ Thank you ! ” “ What’s *tbr dinner?” said .Toe, trying to look like the head of a respectable family, and failing most deplorably in the attempt. “ You’ll see at three o’clock.” “ Is that the hour ? ” “ Yes ! ” “ Remember,” said George, “ I wait for no one. Punctuality is the soul of dinner.” Having seen the others off, George and Minnie went into the library tor a smoke, to prepare them for the Herculean task before them. “See,” said George, producing a cookery-book ; “ we are safe.” “ ‘ Mrs. ’ that’s a woman ! ” cried Minnie. “ Whew! never once thought of that. We will stick to the contract. My dear madam, I am sorry to appear rude, hut I must show you back to the bookcase.” “ What’s for dinner ? ” said Minnie. “ Roast lamb, potatoes, green peas, asparagus, and strawberries,” “ That’ll do. Don’t you have to shell peas or something ? ” “Yes, that’s easy enough.” “ It’s awfully hot,” said Minnie, after a short silence, “ Horrid ! ” “ Suppose wo shell the peas up here. It’s cooler here then in the kitchen. 1 suppose there’s a fire there ? ” ' “Ofcourse.’’ “ I’ll go bring them up.” “ They’re in a basket on the table. Just leave tire rest of the things down there.” _ Shelling peas was rapid work even for unaccustomed fingers, out it is a matter of taste whether the thorough smoking they had from two actively-puffed cigars improved their flavour,

“IS off what do you do with them I ” said Minnie. “ There ain’t many,” he added, as he looked at the little green balls rolling about at the bottom of the huge market basket, and then eyed the large pile of shells on the floor. “You boil them, of course,” was George’s answer. “ Oh ! Suppose we go down.” “ But where is it ? ’ “ In some of the closets.” Susy would certainly have fainted could she have seen the overhauling of her neatly arranged cupboards. “This?” Minnie dragged forth a saucepan large enough to boil about twentv pounds of meat in. “ Ves.” In they went unwashed. “ Hot water, or cold ? ” “ Either.” “ All right: that’s done.” “ ?Sow the asparagus. How. do you -do it ? ” “ I wonder if you roast mutton in this thing ? ” said George, holding up a large pudding-dish. “ Yes. Put it on in the oven, don’t you ? ” “ Y-e-e-s.” George determined to find a book on cookery, written by a man, the very next day. “You boil asparagus, don’t you, George'? ” “ I’es; here’s a tin thing that’s long and shallow ; I suppose that’s for such things.” And a dripping-pan came fortin

The asparagus fitted in like a charm, as both men declared, and water was added and all set on the range. The mutton next went, on the pudding dish, into the oven. “ Come let’s go up-stairs again : it’s fearfully hot here,” said George. “ But the dinner ? ” “ Oh, that’s got nothing to do but cook till three o’clock.” “ Oh, George, here’s the potatoes 1 ” Another saucepan was produced, and the potatoes, with about two gallons of water to the half-peck of potatoes, put on the fire. Smoking, chatting, reading, and a little practice on the violin filled up the morning, though George declared it was “ horrid slow,” and Minnie wondered what on earth women did with themselves. Half-past two brought home three hungry men to dinner. Leaving the cooks to “ dish up,” they all adjourned to the parlour to cool themselves. That it was rather dusty there was not noticed. Mary had made the beds before she left, but dusting the parlours was Susy’s work, and her early start had prevented her from doing it. “ George ” —Minnie’s voice was rather doleful. “ What ? ” “ The fire’s out! ” “ Out! ” “ I wonder if anything’s-cooked ! ” “ The asparagus is burnt fast to the :pan.” “So is the meat! ” “The potatoes ?” “ Broken all to pieces, and floating about in the water.” “These peas are all mashy, Minnie! ” “ Punctuality is the soul of dinner,” cried Joe from, the dining room; “it’s ten minutes past three.” “ Go set the table,” growled George. (to be co-vtixued.)