_Being the Result of over Female Emigration, and the Impossibility of
obtaining Female Servants._
(For _mise en scène_, decorations, and cast of characters, see Plate
opposite.)
MRS. PIPER (_superintending the chops and neglecting her punctuation_)—
"Oh dear, dear, dear! it's enough to drive anybody crazy with all the
trouble I've had with the huzzies the nasty good-for-nothing, idle,
lazy—the wicked presumptuous bad creatures, to think of their taking
such a start. Don't talk to me, Piper; it's the fault of you men for
taking their part. Can't blame them indeed for wanting to better their
situations!—of course my servants were _very_ ill used I understand your
insinuations. No doubt it's a treat to you to see your poor wife made
into a slave—not that there's any novelty in that I wish I was in my
grave!—melted to death and getting into such a mess with the chances _I_
have of even getting a new dress—at those dratted chops for you to
guzzle. If you had the feelings of a man, you'd do something to help me.
Oh! I daresay you're doing all you can—a pretty kettle of fish you're
making of the Irish stew. Ah! there goes the poker on to the plates—
don't tell me—you do it on purpose—you do. I didn't say you touched the
poker but you do all you can to flurry me in one way or other—Tom, you
naughty, unfeeling boy, how dare you join in the conspiracy against your
poor mother? If your father's burnt you, it's just like him go and rub
your hand with soap—though you'll be clever to find it—Yes—Mr. Piper,
you're satisfied now, I hope—with your institutions and lectures and
South Australia panoramas I wish Mr. Prout and all the rest of the
wretches at the Polytechnic were pounded to death with sledge-hammers—
putting notions of emigration into the heads of a set of brazen faces—
but they've been a great deal too well treated, or they would not have
had time to go to such places; and those newspapers talking about their
rights and freedom if they'd minded their work they wouldn't have had
time to read 'em. In my poor dear mother's time, no servant could get a
place who knew how to read. Ought to be treated like human beings? a
pretty story, indeed! I know what you mean Piper you needn't try to keep
your gravity—but they were always thinking of husbands and settling in
life or some such depravity.
[Illustration:
_Scarcity of Domestic Servants—or Every Family their own Cooks!!!_——
_Being Verifications of our Prognostications in 1851—upon the subject
of Over Female Emigration!_
]
"Arabella and Jane you idle things don't stand staring there, but go and
lay the cloth before your father begins to swear. All the tumblers are
broken? Well, to be sure, I might have expected _that_ but I'm
astonished at _you_ Arabella for daring to tell me it was the cat. If it
was that minx, Jemima—yes, I see very well, Mr. Piper that we _don't_
get on as well without her as if I wanted her to go, the viper! when she
knew the whole comfort of the family depended on her staying to be off
to Australia the ungrateful thing she deserves flaying. With the
beautiful kitchen she had only she never took a pride in it let alone
seven pounds a year and her tea found with sugar beside in it. But of
course madam must have a farm and want to be some scamp's wife—never
thinking what I've to get through with my two poor girls to settle in
life. Jane bring a dish this minute do. What! do you mean to say there's
only one and that's cracked, on the shelf? Well, I've done all human
nature can do, Mr. Piper you may get your dinner yourself. If the chops
are black I can't help it well you needn't mention it—I see—if there's
one on the floor you may pick it up. Ah! I knew how it would be. The
gridiron's tumbled over with what I've to go through, how can you expect
me to attend to it? I've not been used to this sort of thing the
chimney's on fire and there's an end to it. The house must be burnt
down. Oh yes! call the police, but you may call for ever if you find a
policeman now all the servants have gone to Australia, all I say is
you'll be clever."
[_Scene closes._