h glass, and the way he followed either Miss A---- or me all about
the house, holding a tumbler in one hand, and a long, clean glass-cloth
in the other, calling upon us to admire the polish of the crystal. To
clean two tumblers would be a good day's work for him. From Monday to
Saturday (when the dray returned), this state of things went on. Of
course I had taken the precaution of having a good supply of bread made
beforehand, besides cakes and biscuits, tarts and pies; everything to
save trouble. But it was not of much use, for, alleging that they were
working so hard, the young men, F---- at their head, though I was always
telling him he was married and ought to know better, set to work and ate
up everything immediately, as completely as if they had been locusts.
And then, they were all so dreadfully wild and unmanageable! Mine was by
far the hardest task of all, the keeping them in any sort of order. For
instance, Captain George declared one day, that if there was one thing
he did better than another, it was to make jam. Consequently a fatigue
party was ordered out to gather strawberries, and, after more than half
had been eaten on the way to the house, a stewpan was filled. I had to
do most of the skimming, as Captain George wanted to practice a duet
with Miss A----. I may as well mention here that we never had any
opportunity of seeing how the jam kept, because the smell pervaded the
whole house to such an extent, that, declaring they felt like schoolboys
again, the gentlemen fell on my half dozen pots of preserves in a
body, carried them off, and ate them all up then and there, announcing
afterwards, there had just been a pot a-piece.

It was really a dreadful time, although we got well cooked _plats_, for
Captain George wasted quite as much as he used. The pigs fed sumptuously
that week on his failures, in sauces, minces; puddings, and what not. He
had insisted on our making him a paper cap and a linen apron, or rather
a dozen linen aprons, for he was perpetually blackening his apron and
casting it aside. Then, he used suddenly to cease to take any interest
in his occupation, and, seating himself sideways on the kitchen dresser,
begin to whistle through a whole opera, or repeat pages of poetry. I
tried the experiment of banishing Miss A---- from the kitchen during
cooking hours, but a few bars played on the piano were quite enough to
distract my cook from his work. My only quiet time was the afternoon,
when about