Mrs. Thomas has her Troubles.
Mrs. Thomas was affected, as silly women sometimes are, with an intense
desire to be at the head of the _ton_. For this object she gave grand
dinners and large evening parties, to which were invited all who, being two
or three removes from the class whose members occupy the cobbler's bench or
the huckster's stall, felt themselves at liberty to look down upon the rest
of the world from the pinnacle on which they imagined themselves placed. At
these social gatherings the conversation never turned upon pedigree, and if
any of the guests chanced by accident to allude to their ancestors, they
spoke of them as members of the family, who, at an early period of their
lives, were engaged in mercantile pursuits.
At such dinners Mrs. Thomas would sit for hours, mumbling dishes that
disagreed with her; smiling at conversations carried on in villanous
French, of which language she did not understand a word; and admiring the
manners of addle-headed young men (who got tipsy at her evening parties),
because they had been to Europe, and were therefore considered quite men of
the world. These parties and dinners she could not be induced to forego,
although the late hours and fatigue consequent thereon would place her on
the sick-list for several days afterwards. As soon, however, as she
recovered sufficiently to resume her place at the table, she would console
herself with a dinner of boiled mutton and roasted turnips, as a slight
compensation for the unwholesome French dishes she had compelled herself to
swallow on the occasions before mentioned. Amongst the other modern
fashions she had adopted, was that of setting apart one morning of the week
for the reception of visitors; and she had mortally offended several of her
oldest friends by obstinately refusing to admit them at any other time. Two
or three difficulties had occurred with Robberts, in consequence of this
new arrangement, as he could not be brought to see the propriety of saying
to visitors that Mrs. Thomas was "not at home," when he knew she was at
that very moment upstairs peeping over the banisters. His obstinacy on this
point had induced her to try whether she could not train Charlie so as to
fit him for the important office of uttering the fashionable and truthless
"not at home" with unhesitating gravity and decorum; and, after a series of
mishaps, she at last believed her object was effected, until an unlucky
occurrence convinced her to the contrary.
Mrs. Thomas, during the days on which she did not receive company, would
have presented, to any one who might have had the honour to see that
venerable lady, an entirely different appearance to that which she assumed
on gala days. A white handkerchief supplied the place of the curling wig,
and the tasty French cap was replaced by a muslin one, decorated with an
immense border of ruffling, that flapped up and down over her silver
spectacles in the most comical manner possible. A short flannel gown and a
dimity petticoat of very antique pattern and scanty dimensions, completed
her costume. Thus attired, and provided with a duster, she would make
unexpected sallies into the various domestic departments, to see that
everything was being properly conducted, and that no mal-practices were
perpetrated at times when it was supposed she was elsewhere. She showed an
intuitive knowledge of all traps set to give intimation of her approach,
and would come upon aunt Rachel so stealthily as to induce her to declare,
"Dat old Mrs. Thomas put her more in mind of a ghost dan of any other libin
animal."
One morning, whilst attired in the manner described, Mrs. Thomas had been
particularly active in her excursions through the house, and had driven the
servants to their wits' ends by her frequent descents upon them at the most
unexpected times, thereby effectually depriving them of the short breathing
intervals they were anxious to enjoy. Charlie in particular had been
greatly harassed by her, and was sent flying from place to place until his
legs were nearly run off, as he expressed it. And so, when Lord Cutanrun,
who was travelling in America to give his estates in England an opportunity
to recuperate, presented his card, Charlie, in revenge, showed him into the
drawing-room, where he knew that Mrs. Thomas was busily engaged trimming an
oil-lamp. Belying on the explicit order she had given to say that she was
not at home, she did not even look up when his lordship entered, and as he
advanced towards her, she extended to him a basin of dirty water, saying,
"Here, take this." Receiving no response she looked up, and to her
astonishment and horror beheld, not Charlie, but Lord Cutanrun. In the
agitation consequent upon his unexpected appearance, she dropped the basin,
the contents of which, splashing in all directions, sadly discoloured his
lordship's light pants, and greatly damaged the elegant carpet.
"Oh! my lord," she exclaimed, "I didn't--couldn't--wouldn't--" and, unable
to ejaculate further, she fairly ran out of the apartment into the entry,
where she nearly fell over Charlie, who was enjoying the confusion his
conduct had created. "Oh! you limb!--you little wretch!" said she. "You
knew I was not at home!"
"Why, where are you now?" he asked, with the most provoking air of
innocence. "If you ain't in the house now, you never was."
"Never mind, sir," said she, "never mind. I'll settle with you for this.
Don't stand there grinning at me; go upstairs and tell Mrs. Morton to come
down immediately, and then get something to wipe up that water. O dear! my
beautiful carpet! And for a lord to see me in such a plight! Oh! it's
abominable! I'll give it to you, you scamp! You did it on purpose,"
continued the indignant Mrs. Thomas. "Don't deny it--I know you did. What
are you standing there for? Why don't you call Mrs. Morton?" she concluded,
as Charlie, chuckling over the result of his trick, walked leisurely
upstairs. "That boy will be the death of me," she afterwards said, on
relating the occurrence to her daughter. "Just to think, after all the
trouble I've had teaching him when to admit people and when not, that he
should serve me such a trick. I'm confident he did it purposely." Alas! for
poor Mrs. Thomas; this was only the first of a series of annoyances that
Charlie had in store, with which to test her patience and effect his own
deliverance.
A few days after, one of their grand dinners was to take place, and Charlie
had been revolving in his mind the possibility of his finding some
opportunity, on that occasion, to remove the old lady's wig; feeling
confident that, could he accomplish that feat, he would be permitted to
turn his back for ever on the mansion of Mrs. Thomas.
Never had Mrs. Thomas appeared more radiant than at this dinner. All the
guests whose attendance she had most desired were present, a new set of
china had lately arrived from Paris, and she was in full anticipation of a
grand triumph. Now, to Charlie had been assigned the important duty of
removing the cover from the soup-tureen which was placed before his
mistress, and the little rogue had settled upon that moment as the most
favourable for the execution of his purpose. He therefore secretly affixed
a nicely crooked pin to the elbow of his sleeve, and, as he lifted the
cover, adroitly hooked it into her cap, to which he knew the wig was
fastened, and in a twinkling had it off her head, and before she could
recover from her astonishment and lay down the soup-ladle he had left the
room. The guests stared and tittered at the grotesque figure she
presented,--her head being covered with short white hair, and her face as
red as a peony at the mortifying situation in which she was placed. As she
rose from her chair Charlie presented himself, and handed her the wig, with
an apology for the _accident_. In her haste to put it on, she turned it
wrong side foremost; the laughter of the guests could now no longer be
restrained, and in the midst of it Mrs. Thomas left the room. Encountering
Charlie as she went, she almost demolished him in her wrath; not ceasing to
belabour him till his outcries became so loud as to render her fearful that
he would alarm the guests; and she then retired to her room, where she
remained until the party broke up.
It was her custom, after these grand entertainments, to make nocturnal
surveys of the kitchen, to assure herself that none of the delicacies had
been secreted by the servants for their personal use and refreshment.
Charlie, aware of this, took his measures for an ample revenge for the
beating he had received at her hands. At night, when all the rest of the
family had retired, he hastily descended to the kitchen, and, by some
process known only to himself, imprisoned the cat in a stone jar that
always stood upon the dresser, and into which he was confident Mrs. Thomas
would peep. He then stationed himself upon the stairs, to watch the result.
He had not long to wait, for as soon as she thought the servants were
asleep, she came softly into the kitchen, and, after peering about in
various places, she at last lifted up the lid of the jar. Tom, tired of his
long confinement, sprang out, and, in so doing, knocked the lamp out of her
hand, the fluid from which ignited and ran over the floor.
"Murder!--Fire!--Watch!" screamed the thoroughly frightened old woman. "Oh,
help! help! fire!" At this terrible noise nearly every one in the household
was aroused, and hurried to the spot whence it proceeded. They found Mrs.
Thomas standing in the dark, with the lid of the jar in her hand, herself
the personification of terror. The carpet was badly burned in several
places, and the fragments of the lamp were scattered about the floor.
"What has happened?" exclaimed Mr. Morton, who was the first to enter the
kitchen. "What is all this frightful noise occasioned by?"
"Oh, there is a man in the house!" answered Mrs. Thomas, her teeth
chattering with fright. "There was a man in here--he has just sprung out,"
she continued, pointing to the bread-jar.
"Pooh, pooh--that's nonsense, madam," replied the son-in-law. "Why an
infant could not get in there, much less a man!"
"I tell you it was a man then," angrily responded Mrs. Thomas; "and he is
in the house somewhere now."
"Such absurdity!" muttered Mr. Morton; adding, in a louder tone: "Why, my
dear mamma, you've seen a mouse or something of the kind."
"Mouse, indeed!" interrupted the old lady. "Do you think I'm in my dotage,
and I don't know a man from a mouse?"
Just then the cat, whose back had got severely singed in the _melee_, set
up a most lamentable caterwauling; and, on being brought to light from the
depths of a closet into which he had flown, his appearance immediately
discovered the share he had had in the transaction.
"It must have been the cat," said Robberts. "Only look at his back--why
here the fur is singed off him! I'll bet anything," continued he, "that air
boy has had something to do with this--for it's a clear case that the cat
couldn't git into the jar, and then put the lid on hissef."
Tom's inability to accomplish this feat being most readily admitted on all
sides, inquiry was immediately made as to the whereabouts of Charlie; his
absence from the scene being rather considered as evidence of
participation, for, it was argued, if he had been unaware of what was to
transpire, the noise would have drawn him to the spot at once, as he was
always the first at hand in the event of any excitement. Robberts was
despatched to see if he was in his bed, and returned with the intelligence
that the bed had not even been opened. Search was immediately instituted,
and he was discovered in the closet at the foot of the stairs. He was
dragged forth, shaken, pummelled, and sent to bed, with the assurance that
his mother should be sent for in the morning, to take him home, and keep
him there. This being exactly the point to which he was desirous of
bringing matters, he went to bed, and passed a most agreeable night.
Aunt Rachel, being one of those sleepers that nothing short of an
earthquake can rouse until their customary time for awaking, had slept
soundly through the stirring events of the past night. She came down in the
morning in quite a placid state of mind, expecting to enjoy a day of rest,
as she had the night before sat up much beyond her usual time, to set
matters to rights after the confusion consequent on the dinner party. What
was her astonishment, therefore, on finding the kitchen she had left in a
state of perfect order and cleanliness, in a condition that resembled the
preparation for an annual house-cleaning.
"Lord, bless us!" she exclaimed, looking round; "What on yarth has
happened? I raly b'lieve dere's bin a fire in dis 'ere house, and I never
knowed a word of it. Why I might have bin burnt up in my own bed! Dere's de
lamp broke--carpet burnt--pots and skillets hauled out of the closet--ebery
ting turned upside down; why dere's bin a reg'lar 'sturbance down here,"
she continued, as she surveyed the apartment.
At this juncture, she espied Tom, who sat licking his paws before the fire,
and presenting so altered an appearance, from the events of the night, as
to have rendered him unrecognizable even by his best friend.
"Strange cat in de house! Making himself quite at home at dat," said aunt
Rachel, indignantly. Her wrath, already much excited, rose to the boiling
point at what she deemed a most daring invasion of her domain. She,
therefore, without ceremony, raised a broom, with which she belaboured the
astonished Tom, who ran frantically from under one chair to another till
he ensconced himself in a small closet, from which he pertinaciously
refused to be dislodged. "Won't come out of dere, won't you?" said she.
"I'll see if I can't make you den;" and poor Tom dodged behind pots and
kettles to avoid the blows which were aimed at him; at last, thoroughly
enraged by a hard knock on the back, he sprang fiercely into the face of
his tormentor, who, completely upset by the suddenness of his attack, fell
sprawling on the floor, screaming loudly for help. She was raised up by
Robberts, who came running to her assistance, and, on being questioned as
to the cause of her outcries, replied:--
"Dere's a strange cat in de house--wild cat too, I raly b'lieve;" and
spying Tom at that moment beneath the table, she made another dash at him
for a renewal of hostilities.
"Why that's Tom," exclaimed Robberts; "don't you know your own cat?"
"Oh," she replied, "dat ar isn't Tom now, is it? Why, what's the matter wid
him?"
Robberts then gave her a detailed account of the transactions of the
previous night, in which account the share Charlie had taken was greatly
enlarged and embellished; and the wrathful old woman was listening to the
conclusion when Charlie entered. Hardly had he got into the room, when,
without any preliminary discussion, aunt Rachel--to use her own
words--pitched into him to give him particular fits. Now Charlie, not being
disposed to receive "particular fits," made some efforts to return the hard
compliments that were being showered upon him, and the advice of Kinch
providentially occurring to him--respecting an attack upon the
understanding of his venerable antagonist--he brought his hard shoes down
with great force upon her pet corn, and by this _coup de pied_ completely
demolished her. With a loud scream she let him go; and sitting down upon
the floor, declared herself lamed for life, beyond the possibility of
recovery. At this stage of the proceedings, Robberts came to the rescue of
his aged coadjutor, and seized hold of Charlie, who forthwith commenced
so brisk an attack upon his rheumatic shins, as to cause him to beat a
hurried retreat, leaving Charlie sole master of the field. The noise that
these scuffles occasioned brought Mrs. Thomas into the kitchen, and Charlie
was marched off by her into an upstairs room, where he was kept in "durance
vile" until the arrival of his mother.
Mrs. Thomas had a strong liking for Charlie--not as a boy, but as a
footman. He was active and intelligent, and until quite recently, extremely
tractable and obedient; more than all, he was a very good-looking boy, and
when dressed in the Thomas livery, presented a highly-respectable
appearance. She therefore determined to be magnanimous--to look over past
events, and to show a Christian and forgiving spirit towards his
delinquencies. She sent for Mrs. Ellis, with the intention of desiring her
to use her maternal influence to induce him to apologize to aunt Rachel for
his assault upon her corns, which apology Mrs. Thomas was willing to
guarantee should be accepted; as for the indignities that had been
inflicted on herself, she thought it most politic to regard them in the
light of accidents, and to say as little about that part of the affair as
possible.
When Mrs. Ellis made her appearance on the day subsequent to the events
just narrated, Mrs. Thomas enlarged to her upon the serious damage that
aunt Rachel had received, and the urgent necessity that something should be
done to mollify that important individual. When Charlie was brought into
the presence of his mother and Mrs. Thomas, the latter informed him, that,
wicked as had been his conduct towards herself, she was willing, for his
mother's sake, to look over it; but that he must humble himself in dust and
ashes before the reigning sovereign of the culinary kingdom, who, making
the most of the injury inflicted on her toe, had declared herself unfit for
service, and was at that moment ensconced in a large easy-chair, listening
to the music of her favourite smoke-jack, whilst a temporary cook was
getting up the dinner, under her immediate supervision and direction.
"Charlie, I'm quite ashamed of you," said his mother, after listening to
Mrs. Thomas's lengthy statement. "What has come over you, child?"--Charlie
stood biting his nails, and looking very sullen, but vouchsafed them no
answer.--"Mrs. Thomas is so kind as to forgive you, and says she will look
over the whole affair, if you will beg aunt Rachel's pardon. Come, now,"
continued Mrs. Ellis, coaxingly, "do, that's a good boy."
"Yes, do," added Mrs. Thomas, "and I will buy you a handsome new suit of
livery."
This was too much for Charlie; the promise of another suit of the detested
livery quite overcame him, and he burst into tears.
"Why, what ails the boy? He's the most incomprehensible child I ever saw!
The idea of crying at the promise of a new suit of clothes!--any other
child would have been delighted," concluded Mrs. Thomas.
"I don't want your old button-covered uniform," said Charlie, "and I won't
wear it, neither! And as for aunt Rachel, I don't care how much she is
hurt--I'm only sorry I didn't smash her other toe; and I'll see her
skinned, and be skinned myself, before I'll ask her pardon!"
Both Mrs. Thomas and Charlie's mother stood aghast at this unexpected
declaration; and the result of a long conference, held by the two, was that
Charlie should be taken home, Mrs. Ellis being unable to withstand his
tears and entreaties.
As he passed through the kitchen on his way out, he made a face at aunt
Rachel, who, in return, threw at him one of the turnips she was peeling. It
missed the object for which it was intended, and came plump into the eye of
Robberts, giving to that respectable individual for some time thereafter
the appearance of a prize-fighter in livery.
Charlie started for home in the highest spirits, which, however, became
considerably lower on his discovering his mother's view of his late
exploits was very different from his own. Mrs. Ellis's fondness and
admiration of her son, although almost amounting to weakness, were yet
insufficient to prevent her from feeling that his conduct, even after
making due allowance for the provocation he had received, could not be
wholly excused as mere boyish impetuosity and love of mischievous fun. She
knew that his father would feel it his duty, not only to reprimand him, but
to inflict some chastisement; and this thought was the more painful to her
from the consciousness, that but for her own weak compliance with Mrs.
Thomas's request, her boy would not have been placed in circumstances which
his judgment and self-command had proved insufficient to carry him through.
The day, therefore, passed less agreeably than Charlie had anticipated; for
now that he was removed from the scene of his trials, he could not disguise
from himself that his behaviour under them had been very different from
what it ought to have been, and this had the salutary effect of bringing
him into a somewhat humbler frame of mind. When his father returned in the
evening, therefore, Charlie appeared so crest-fallen that even Caddy could
scarcely help commiserating him, especially as his subdued state during the
day had kept him from committing any of those offences against tidiness
which so frequently exasperated her. Mr. Ellis, though very strict on what
he thought points of duty, had much command of temper, and was an
affectionate father. He listened, therefore, with attention to the details
of Charlie's grievances, as well as of his misdemeanours, and some credit
is due to him for the unshaken gravity he preserved throughout. Although he
secretly acquitted his son of any really bad intention, he thought it
incumbent on him to make Charlie feel in some degree the evil consequences
of his unruly behaviour. After giving him a serious lecture, and pointing
out the impropriety of taking such measures to deliver himself from the
bondage in which his parents themselves had thought fit to place him,
without even appealing to them, he insisted on his making the apologies due
both to Mrs. Thomas and aunt Rachel (although he was fully aware that both
had only got their deserts); and, further, intimated that he would not be
reinstated in his parents' good graces until he had proved, by his good
conduct and docility, that he was really sorry for his misbehaviour. It was
a severe trial to Charlie to make these apologies; but he well knew that
what his father had decided upon must be done--so he made a virtue of
necessity, and, accompanied by his mother, on the following day performed
his penance with as good a grace as he was able; and, in consideration of
this submission, his father, when he came home in the evening, greeted him
with all his usual kindness, and the recollection of this unlucky affair
was at once banished from the family circle.