THOROUGHNESS--ECONOMY OF TIME--CARE OF PROPERTY--PUNCTUALITY.
Most mistresses are anxious that household work should be well and
thoroughly done. I am, however, bound, in common fairness, to say that,
while many servants are careless and slippery--spending the time that
ought to be occupied about their work in dawdling and gossiping--there
are also mistresses who are unreasonable in their requirements. They
demand impossibilities, because they have no idea of the time that is
needed to ensure thoroughness in any branch of household work.
‘There is nothing I like so much as a mistress who knows what work is,
and who, having done it herself, can tell how long it takes to do it
real well.’
These were the words of a bonny, bright-faced young housemaid who had
lately entered upon a new place. She loved cleanliness, and did not
consider that her duty was done when the ashes were removed from under
the grate, and a duster lightly whisked over the tops of the tables and
the seats and backs of chairs.
‘I’m not afraid of the chairs being turned round or my mistress looking
into corners, or that if you lift up a book or an ornament, the shape
of it will be left clear on the dusty top of the chiffonier. I like
things to be just as clean and as bright all over as hands can make
them. But it takes time to make them so, as well as good rubbing.’
The girl was right. And it is a great blessing to the employed when the
employer has a practical knowledge of the work her servants have to do.
I rejoice to think that the cookery and domestic economy classes are
doing good service in this direction, by making girls, the future
mistresses of homes, acquainted with the details of household work.
‘She is cleanly, but dreadfully slow,’ is no unfrequent character
from an active bustling mistress, when parting with a servant, who is
perhaps less slow than thorough.
On this subject, let me say to servants, If you are not allowed the
time to do your work well, take care that you spend upon it every
minute that you have allotted for the purpose. Let no one catch you
gossiping or idling away your time, when you have complained that it
was already insufficient for the task to be properly performed. And if,
after having done your best, you are still found fault with, ask your
mistress, in a respectful manner, if she will, just for once, look on
whilst you do this piece of work, and note how long it takes you to do
it well.
If instead of scolding on the one side, and flying into a temper
and answering impertinently on the other, there were to be a fair
consideration and a reasonable test such as the above, we should have
fewer hasty warnings ‘to leave at the month’s end;’ less frequent
changes, and longer and more valuable service from our domestics.
These, too, would not pay us less respect or care less for our
interests, because they found us willing to listen patiently to a
well-grounded complaint, and to redress any real grievance.
From the subject of economy of time and thoroughness in the quality
of work we turn naturally to that of care in the use of the property
entrusted to you who serve in the household. In respect to work there
can be no better advice than this: ‘Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do,
do it with thy might.’ So, in using the property of others, use it as
though you had earned the money which bought it.
Accidents will occasionally happen in spite of care; but numberless
things are mutilated or destroyed by the want of a very little
precaution. A window and door are both left open on a windy day.
The blind is next seen flapping to and fro outside, and unless some
watchful eye notices this, the crash of glass announces that the lath
has been driven through a pane or two, valuable papers have been
carried into the fire or up the chimney, a tablecloth and a number of
fragile ornaments swept on to the floor, and everything that would
break amongst them smashed to atoms by a little act of thoughtlessness.
Who can truly say, ‘I could not help it,’ when an indignant mistress
reproaches the author of such waste and ruin? She may not have done it
on purpose, but destruction which is caused by utter carelessness is
scarcely less blamable than wilful waste.
A great deal of harm is done to furniture by rough, bouncing servants,
who bang articles down on floor or table, who rush about like a
whirlwind, under the impression that hurry and bustle mean industry and
earnestness, who seem to think that noise is an essential accompaniment
to work. These are the people under whom the edges of our tumblers
are chipped, until they become dangerous to those who use them; in
whose hands crockery is perpetually ‘coming in two,’ and handles as
constantly ‘coming off.’
Chairs are recklessly brought in contact with side-boards, and the
veneering is chipped, or smooth, polished surfaces are mercilessly
rubbed with rough dusters, with the result of leaving the same covered
with all sorts of fine lines and scratches. Under such treatment the
polished top of, say, a grand piano, assumes the appearance of an
immense outline map.
All such injury to furniture and utensils becomes a double source of
annoyance from the fact that a little care would have prevented it.
Hurry, bustle, and bounce always hinder real work. It is the steady,
methodical servant, whose work is done with the least apparent effort,
but which entails the smallest amount of destruction to property and is
most satisfactory in the long run.
I often think of a little figure familiar under our roof for nearly
ten years, who was an admirable illustration of the value of method
and of forecasting the work. Slight in frame, short in stature, and
by no means strong, in many respects she was a living example of what
could be effected by steadiness and a thoughtful planning of her work.
Nobody ever saw her in a hurry, or with a smutty face or untidy hair.
Her gowns looked less soiled and tumbled at the week’s end than those
of many wearers would be after a few hours’ use.
All cooking materials that could be properly prepared beforehand
or over-night were always ready for use when wanted. A glance at
the spotless dressers and the floors, from which, to use a popular
expression, ‘you might have eaten your dinner without a plate,’ gave a
sufficient pledge of the exquisite cleanliness of everything prepared
in that kitchen and by those hands. Yet all this beautiful order and
purity were the result of quiet, steady work, carefully planned and
carried out regularly and methodically.
There is no department in which cleanliness can be of more importance
than in that of the cook. A careless, muddling cook will use her
utensils indiscriminately. She will boil her onions, for sauce, and
then, after a mere wash out, will make sweet sauce for pudding in the
same pan--we all know with what result. A fine, subtle flavour of
onions will run through the second preparation, and will, in turn,
spoil both the sauce and the pudding it is intended to improve. And
yet, when fault is found, the offender will perhaps stoutly insist, and
with a certain measure of truth, that she had washed her pan quite
clean. Washing will not remove strong flavours, and especially the
taste of onions. A pan should be kept for these alone, and no other
sauce should ever be prepared in it. It would take too much space were
I to attempt to enter fully into the many little details connected with
a cook’s duties, so I will make my advice very brief.
Be very cleanly in kitchen utensils, person, and dress. Be specially
particular about the neat arrangement of your hair, so that it may
not be loose and straggling. Few things are more disgusting than the
sight of hairs amongst food. Scour and scald--in addition to merely
washing--all utensils. Let crockery be thoroughly cleansed from grease
and brightened in the drying. Fill milk bowls with boiling water, and
let it stand in them until it is cold before drying for use again. This
will tend to make the milk keep better.
In using the articles of food and preparing them, avoid all waste, and
be ready to render an account of everything that is entrusted to your
care. There are some cooks who use articles lavishly and wastefully,
and who give away what is not theirs to bestow. They have no anxiety
about providing the food, no occasion to consider how bills are to be
paid, and often do not know the price and value of what they waste.
They will throw bread and odd pieces amongst the swill, and let food
be cast away to nourish swine, which many a widowed mother and hungry
child would be thankful to receive and make use of.
Remember, you are accountable--and not to earthly employers only--for
every wasted bit, whether of food or fuel. You are stewards in your
position, as your master and mistress are stewards in theirs. And there
is another thought I would bring before you. Every housekeeper knows
that meat is daily growing dearer, and a sufficient supply becoming
less and less attainable. Consider, then, that a lavish use or waste of
meat helps to make it dearer still, and life harder for the poor. Out
of the very scraps and crumbs, if you will only collect them, thousands
of birds may be fed and the lives of the dear little songsters
preserved through the cold blasts and pinching frosts of winter.
Every morning at my home, one of our kindly domestics may be seen
sallying forth with a plate on which all these fragments have been
collected by their united efforts. Half of the store goes to the birds
in the front, half to their brethren in the back garden; and the daily
scene at feeding-time is well worth watching for. I feel sure if you
were to begin to care for these little feathered pensioners on human
bounty, you would find so much pleasure in doing it that nothing would
induce you to give up the practice.
As I have advised nurses on no account to conceal any accident that may
happen to the children under their care, so I would earnestly urge all
servants to tell, and at once, of any breakage or injury to furniture.
I say at once, because delay in telling always makes the task more
difficult.
It is a mean thing, and an acted untruth, for a servant to hide away
the fragments of broken articles, conceal the mischief done, and,
perhaps, leave the place without telling what has happened. Two
unpleasant results are likely to follow. A fellow-servant may be blamed
for that of which she is innocent; a mistress may be put to serious
inconvenience for want of an article which she believed to be safe and
sound, though really it had been long broken.
Very often she will be met with a look of combined protest and mock
astonishment when she asks for particulars. ‘Oh, that was done months
since,’ is the reply given. As though the length of time which had
elapsed made the loss less annoying, or the concealment less to be
condemned.
Two wealthy bachelors, whose establishment was nominally under the rule
of a cook-housekeeper, were one day surprised to find that out of a
large and fine set of cut wine-glasses, none remained but those they
were using at the moment. The waitress was considered responsible for
the safe keeping of table appointments, and she had gone on breaking
and hiding, until, when a visitor came, there was no spare glass to
place for his use.
The wrath of the masters may be better imagined than described. It was,
however, less the loss of their property than the deceit and consequent
annoyance which caused them to arrange for the prompt departure of that
waitress.
So again I say, tell and at once of any accident to your employer’s
property. At the moment, perhaps, vexation at the loss may try your
mistress’s temper, and you may be sharply reproved. Express your
sorrow, if you have been careless, try to be more careful in the
future. Bear the reproof meekly, and, when the first irritation is
past, you will find that the prompt confession has helped to build up
your own character for truthfulness and straightforwardness. It is not
unlikely that the mistress will afterwards say something of this kind:
‘I was vexed at the moment, but I am glad you told me the truth.’ And
in speaking of you to others she may blame you for carelessness; but
she will be able to say, ‘I can trust her word.’ At any rate, your own
conscience will tell you that you have not added a wilful sin to an
unintentional error.
And the ladies who rule in the house should encourage their handmaidens
to tell the truth in any and every case of accident. It is rather hard
to keep from speaking sharply when some fragile but much-valued article
has been smashed to atoms by careless hands. But if the culprit’s
confession and expressions of sorrow are met with scolding and harsh
words, the offender is very likely to hold her peace and hide the
fragments, should she meet with a second mishap of the kind. Not that
it would be right to do so; but the temptation to take such a course
would be vastly increased.
Where, however, a mistress has her patience tried by repeated acts
of carelessness, and the almost wilful destruction of property, she
has the remedy in her own hands. She must either have a distinct
understanding that whoever breaks pays, or she must part with the
author of the mischief.
Punctuality in carrying out household arrangements is valuable in every
home, as tending to make the domestic machinery run smoothly. In some
houses it is of vital importance. Yet, all the members of a family
depend more or less on each other for the power to be punctual with
comfort--the children who have to go to school, the father who must be
at his place of business, the servants whose work should be completed
by a given time.
A lady who was about to engage a cook was extremely particular in her
inquiries about the habitual punctuality of the applicant.
‘I can be punctual if the family can,’ was the answer. ‘I like to be
regular and orderly about my work, and am prepared to be so. But my
difficulty has mostly been to get other people to be the same.’
The girl spoke respectfully, and was quite in earnest. The lady
she addressed felt a guilty flush creeping over her own face as
she listened. She knew very well that, whilst professing to exact
punctuality in others, she was often sadly deficient in the practice of
that virtue.
There is no doubt, however, that a punctual mistress will make her
servants keep to the proper time; but it is by no means equally sure
that punctuality in the employed would have the same effect on the
employers. These will sometimes say to servants, ‘You must have the
meals on the table at the time. Never mind whether any one is there
to eat them or not.’ But this would be a most unsatisfactory state of
things. The cook would grieve over spoiled dishes; the waiting damsel
would be uncomfortable; and, depend on it, the blame would be placed on
clocks, on servants, on anything and anybody rather than applied to
themselves by those who grumble over a cold or lukewarm dinner.
I shall not soon forget my return from town on one occasion. I was
half an hour late, and after I came into the house I stopped on my way
upstairs to speak to a seamstress about some working materials which I
had brought back with me. On finally descending I was met in the hall
by that methodical cook of whom I have already written.
‘Ma’am! Are you aware that the dinner is starving?’ (meaning, ‘getting
cold,’) she asked with a reproachful look on her face.
I hope I felt properly guilty. I know I blushed and said,
apologetically, that if such were the case I was to blame, and not she.
And I hurried to my place at table, convinced that punctuality ought to
be an all-round thing, and, if exacted from servants, should also be
practised by all the members of the family.