John said this morning that he was so busy I must write. He added
that as all his letters had been "outsides," mine must be an "inside"!
If you ask what keeps him busy, the answer is the car. He and the
chauffeur of the house are, I think, breaking the motor to pieces.
Not that there was anything the matter with it so far as I could see,
but John said it was "not pulling just right," which, I believe, is
like the small boy's excuse for taking a watch to pieces. He wants
to see the "wheels go round"! At any rate, the stable-yard is a
sight! And so is John! The chauffeur has been dragged away from the
fascinating game, but a boy of about fourteen is acting as "plumber
assistant." I stepped out for a moment and heard John say, "Here,
William, hand me that spanner," and William reply: "Spanner, sir,
yes, sir, spanner." John caught my eye and grinned, and at the same
instant I caught William winking at "cook," for which, I venture the
guess, he will be disciplined, for familiarity does not have much
chance to breed contempt in the servants' hall! However, I
remembered that if this is to be an "inside" letter, I must go inside
to write it.
We have now been here a little more than a week, and I am filled with
admiration, not, I fear, unmixed with envy, at the way this great
house seems to run itself. Of course, being a woman, my first
interest was in the "servant problem," which, so far as I can see,
does not exist. Sir Thomas is not rich as we count riches, but there
are servants enough, I should think, to run a hotel! And such
servants! Trim, neat, perfectly trained, and always respectful. Of
course, in England serving is a profession--once a servant always a
servant--which must have what you would call a psychological effect.
Then servants and masters are of the same race and have the same
religion. Surely there must be a spiritual bond between people who
begin the day's work with prayer.
I talked this over with Maud. She began to say, "In forming one's
opinion on facts with which one is not familiar," but I stopped her,
saying: "That won't do. You are talking just like Thomas." She
blushed a little at this, but answered defiantly: "Well, he is a good
person to talk like."
"No," I answered, "no one is good to talk like."
She laughed at this queer sentence and then, with a true Yankee
drawl, imitating old Captain Hyde, of Silver Harbor, said: "Well, by
Godfrey, I ain't never seen a pancake so thin it didn't have a minder
side!"
"Well," said I, "what is the under side to this pancake?"
"It is this: while it is true we pay about half as much for servants
here as we do at home, on the other hand, we must have twice the
number. Everything is so specialized that if one were to ask the
parlor-maid to do a piece of work which properly belongs to the
housemaid, it would be like asking Dr. Shattuck to pull a tooth!"
"Do you mean that in case of sickness one of them would not lend a
hand with another's work?"
"Oh, I don't mean that literally, but it would be a favor that could
not be counted on, and if it happened often enough to have the look
of establishing a precedent--unless you have lived in England you can
have no understanding of what a precedent means--she would probably
'give warning,' and if you think it pleasant to live in the house for
a month with a young person who has given warning, you are mistaken!"
"Well, why not pay her a month's wages and let her go?"
"You cause me to smile! In the first place, it would be considered
extravagant, and, besides, it might do the girl an injustice. It
might be thought a reflection on her character. The 'justice' of the
English is, in my opinion, carried to an extreme! Nor are these the
only reasons. You can't imagine the difficulties of replacing a
servant. Endless questions have to be asked, such as whether she is
Church of England or 'Chapel,' and much more intimate questions that
you would think--and so do I--are none of one's business. It is not
as it was in Boston, where if Mary Maloney said 'I think I'll be
leaving you,' all you had to do would be to step around into Charles
Street and tell your troubles to Mrs. McCarthy, and, behold! she
would have 'A noice girrl, not long over, not knowin' all the ways,
maybe, but willin' to learn, and comin' of decent people.' It is
true she wouldn't know a pan from a skillet, but she would do what
she was told, and soon have an interest in the family and be loyal to
them.
"She would not join in family prayers, and indeed at first would run
out into the pantry when papa said grace, but in case of sickness she
would take part of her afternoon 'off' to go to church to pray for
the baby, or maybe burn a candle to the saint who specialized in your
trouble! They are not neat, they are not well trained, they are not
bigoted about truth, but they are human!"
"Maud Simpson!" I cried, "how many times have I heard you say: 'If I
only had nice English servants I should ask for nothing more in
life'? I don't believe you mean it."
"Well, perhaps I don't. The fact is that under-housemaid spoke to me
this morning with that correct insolence one cannot take hold of, and
I have been feeling all day as if I would rather be 'sassed' by Katie
Hogan!"
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