CHAPTER XIV.

NOW THANK GOODNESS I’VE COME TO THAT MISCHIEVOUS YOUNG MONKEY Of A PAGE, WHO CERTAINLY WAS MORE THAN ONE POOR WOMAN COULD MANAGE, AND LITERALLY AND TRULY NOTHING LESS THAN A MILLSTONE ROUND MY NECK, (IF I MAY BE ALLOWED SO STRONG AN EXPRESSION,) AND WHILE MY HAND’S IN, I SHALL JUST TAKE THE LIBERTY OF SPEAKING MY MIND VERY FREELY ABOUT THE GOINGS ON, TOO, OF THAT HIGHTY-FLIGHTY BEAUTY OF A NURSE (I NEVER KNEW SUCH A NURSE) OF A MISS SARAH OF MINE.

“My pretty page.”

POPULAR DUET, _which I remember when I was at school at Boulogne, poor Miss Rippon was so fond of singing with that impudent wretch of a French music-master, whom she afterwards ran away with; though what she could ever have seen in the man, is more than I could ever make out._

“With a few alterations, oh, la! We’ll make a beautiful boy.” COMIC SONG.

“Of all the girls that are so smart, There’s none like pretty Sally.” SALLY IN OUR ALLEY.

It strikes me, now I come to think of it, that I have mentioned somewhere before, that the only thing I prayed for when I went to bed of a night was, that Providence would send me a servant that would live and die with me. Consequently, it seemed to me that now or never was my time to pitch upon some nice well-disposed lad, who would do for my page in my prime, and grow up to be a footman to me in my old age. So what did my stupid good-nature prompt me to do, but to march down one fine morning to St. Giles’ workhouse, where often and often, on my way down to Edward’s chambers, I had noticed several nice-looking boys, with particularly clean collars, standing on the steps waiting to be taken as apprentices. For of course I was not going to be such a silly as to take some young monkey into my service, and then just after I had taught him his business, to have him wanting to be off to _better_ himself, indeed!--before his livery was thoroughly worn out, too, may be. Besides, as we had a young family growing up about us, I felt that it was my duty to save when I could, for all the world knows that a penny saved is twopence gained--though I never could, for the life of me, make out how that could be, notwithstanding I have had it explained to me by a pack of wiseacres over and over again. And, under the circumstances, I’m sure I didn’t see the joke of paying a matter of ten pounds a year or so to a little chit of a thing, that would have to get on a chair to rub down my parlour tables. So as I could have an apprentice from the workhouse without paying any wages at all, and they’d give five pounds into the bargain, which would just do for the brat’s livery, why I pretty soon called upon the master of the place, to look over the stock of youths he had on hand, and see if they were anything like the very attractive sample he had got stuck so conspicuously at the door. But though I had up some dozen of young urchins, I pretty soon saw that they were nothing at all equal to the pattern outside; and the beauty of it was, that the man wanted to persuade me that a nasty little crumpet-faced, moist-sugar-haired, stunted orphan, was the very one to suit me, saying, “That the lad had got more marks for morals than any other boy in the school.” But, “No, thank you,” I replied; “I think I’ll take that youth, if you please,” pointing to the best-looking of the show ones; for I was determined to do the same here as I do with those dreadful cheats of linendrapers, and be served from the superior articles ticketed up in the window.

I wasn’t long before I had my young Turk’s livery, and a beautiful one it was to be sure. Oh, when it came home, I think it looked the sweetest thing I ever set eyes upon in all my life. The jacket was a claret, with three rows of sugar-loaf buttons, as close together as a rope of onions; and there were a pair of nice quiet dark-coloured pantaloons, running rather into the port wine than partaking of the claret; and to guard against the brat’s growing out of them before they were fairly worn out, I had taken the wise precaution of having two or three tucks put in at the bottom of them--though, really and truly for the matter of that, I might just as well have let it alone--for positively the urchin shot up so fast that I do think he must have grown six tucks, at least, the first year he was with me. And the worst of it was, your clarets do fade so, that by the time the tucks were let out, his trousers had got so plaguy light, and the place where the tucks had been was so plaguy dark, that upon my word the bottom of his legs had large black rings round them like the legs of an imitation bamboo bedstead. And though I tried to get them over his boots, yet, do as I would, I could not manage it; for if I made him strap them down, there were a good three inches of shirt showing all below his jacket, and if I made him brace them up, there were all the tops of his dirty socks to be seen above his bluchers.

I don’t know whether it was that the young monkey knew that I had bound myself to keep him for five years or not; but he certainly did play old gooseberry with my lovely livery in a most shameful way. Positively, he couldn’t have had it more than a week before it was not fit to be seen, all stained in front, and over yellow marks, like a baking dish. I’m sure that, before a month was over his head, the knees of his trousers, and the sleeves of his jacket, right up to the elbows, were as black and shiny with grease as if they had been blackleaded. Over and over again have I said to him, “Really, Wittals, it is enough to break the heart of a saint to see the state your clothes are in! where you can think liveries come from I can’t tell.” And though I was continually making him take the grease spots out with turpentine, still it was only taking a great deal of trouble and turpentine for nothing; for the next day he would be in the same state again, and I should have the urchin going about the house smelling for all the world as if he had been newly painted.

As for the antics of that young Wittals, too, I declare they were enough to worry any peaceably disposed woman into Bedlam. Not a thing could he do like a rational creature; but I declare the young Turk was frisking about the house like a parched pea in a pan, and running in and out like a dog at a fair. If he had to go up stairs for anything, instead of walking down again like a Christian, he must needs get astride the mahogany banisters, and slide down like a monkey. Then again, if I sent him out ever such a little way, he would be sure to be gone ten times as long as he need be; for of course he would either be looking into all the picture shops, or go flattening his nose against some pastrycook’s window, eyeing the ladies and gentlemen feasting inside--or else waiting to see some cab-horse get up--or walk miles in the opposite direction to which I had sent him, following some trumpery Punch and Judy, or tumblers--or either stop for hours playing at some game with buttons, or pulling up stones and things with that nasty bit of wet leather tied to the end of a string, which he always kept in his pocket. And when I was wondering what on earth could have become of him, and jumping up and running to the window every second minute to see whether there were any signs of the young vagabond, lo and behold I should see him come galloping along; either flying over every post on his way, or else rattling the street-door key along the rails of every house he passed; or if the turncock had only pulled the flag up in the middle of the road, and turned the water on, there I should be sure to catch sight of him, with his foot right on the hole, squirting the water out on each side of the street, drenching all the little boys that were near, and destroying my bluchers, as I’m a living woman.

When he was in the house, too, he was just as trying to one’s patience--not one minute’s peace would the noisy young scamp ever let me have. If he wasn’t playing “Happy Land” on the Jew’s-harp, he would be safe to be trying that frightful “Nix my Dolly Pals,” or “Happy Land,” on his hair-comb. No matter what I gave him to do--I declare he couldn’t keep at it for more than two minutes together, but off he’d be as if he had got nothing but quicksilver in his veins. Now, of a morning, he had got a trumpery dozen of knives to clean, but, bless you! even they were too much for him to do right off; for positively, as soon as he had cleaned one of them, he’d throw himself on his hands, and cocking his legs straight up in the air, he’d sing one verse of “Such a getting up stairs” on his head, all the while beating time with the soles of his feet--and then down he’d come again, do another knife, and then either be off to the back kitchen window, where he would stand making himself as knock-knee’d as a frog, and, turning his toes in and his elbows out, make the most horrible faces to Betsy through the window, shouting out to her, “Here we are,” just like the stupid clowns in the pantomime,--or else, all of a sudden, creep into the house, and, going up behind her back, give _such_ a whistle through his fingers right into her ear, as would make the whole house ring again, and set one’s teeth on edge as bad as slate pencil slid along a slate, frightening that nervous Betsy out of her life, and making her drop whatever she might have in her hand; while if one of those bothering organs only stopped opposite the window, he’d throw down his work, however much I might want it done, and rushing into the area, pull out of his pocket the bits of broken plate he always kept there, and putting them between his fingers, keep rattling away two in each hand, accompanying the music, till he heard me coming down after him, and then, of course he’d rush back again, and pretend to be working as hard as he could,--though I knew very well that directly my back was turned, the young Jackanapes would be putting his fingers to his nose, and making grimaces at me. Indeed, I can assure the courteous reader, that his antics were such, and he paid so little respect to me, when he fancied I couldn’t see him, that upon my word I was positively afraid to go out walking with him behind me (which was one of the things in particular I had him for), for I felt convinced that I should have him either coming after me walking on his hands, or else throwing himself head over heels sideways along the pavement, or, may be, running up and squaring away close at my back. As for the little scamp’s giving one a stylish appearance, as I had been silly enough to fancy he would, in answering the door, bless you! quite the contrary,--for it was ten chances to one if the young monkey didn’t rush up either with a wooden sword thrust through his breeches pocket, and a brown paper cocked hat stuck on his head, or even, perhaps, with his face blacked all over with burnt cork, and covered with large bits of the red wafers I had for the black-beetles; while if, to give one an air above the common, I made him carry the prayer-books for me to church, I should be certain either to hear half-a-dozen of the young monkey’s marbles roll all down the aisle in the very middle of the sermon, or else, if I took the precaution of making him empty his pockets before he went there, as sure as sure could be, he would go fast asleep, and snore as I well knew _he_ alone could snore, and until I fancied every eye in the church was fixed upon me.

Positively it was as much as one person could do to keep that shocking scapegrace of a Wittals from going about in actual rags; and the whole of my mornings used to be entirely taken up in repairing his dress livery. Either I should have to try to fine-draw the knees of his trousers, for the twentieth time--till they looked like the heels of a pair of old stockings--or there’d be a piece as big as the palm of your hand torn out at the foot where the strap buttons had been--or one of the pocket-holes slit nearly down to his knees--or else the jacket would have one of the cuffs half off--or one of the sleeves almost out--while as for those beautiful three rows of sugar-loaf buttons, I declare almost every other one was missing before the week was out, and even they were sure to be with all the silver rubbed off of them, and as coppery looking as the plated ornaments on the harness of a hackney coach horse.

I never knew such a boy to wait at dinner. In the parlour, of course, he was on his best behaviour, because he knew Mr. Sk--n--st--n was there, (a deceitful young imp!); but only let him have to fetch up any dishes from the kitchen, and there I knew he’d be, as plainly as if I saw him, dipping his fingers in them, and sucking them again all the way up stairs. If by any chance I had an open-work jam tart, bless you, to table it would come with all the marks of the tips of his fingers in the jam, till it looked exactly like the japanned tin boxes in a lawyer’s office; or if it was a pie, there it would be, picked all round the edges, as if rats had been gnawing it; and no matter how much pounded lump sugar I had given out to sprinkle over the crust, when it came up there wouldn’t be so much as a grain on the top of it. Indeed, I never came near such a boy for sugar as that was; lump after lump would he steal out of my poor dear little canary’s cage as fast as I put it in; and once I recollect when my beautiful Kate had the red-gum so bad, and I packed Wittals off for our medical adviser, telling him to make all the haste he could or our doctor would have left to make his morning visits, the young monkey was gone better than an hour, though the house is only a stone’s throw from ours. This made me so wild, that directly I heard his sneaking ring at the bell, I rushed to the door and seized hold of him by both arms to give him a good shaking, when, bless me, if he wasn’t as sticky all over as a lollypop, and when I examined him a little more, I declare his clothes were all over molasses and brown sugar from head to foot; and then it turned out that my young Turk had been making one of a party of urchins inside an empty sugar-cask, and that in my _dress livery_, too. His knees and his back were literally caked all over with the nasty brown gluey stuff, and he had got it all sticking round his mouth, and cheeks, and chin, till his face looked like so much sand-paper.

Further than this, I do think he was the cruelest boy that could be met with anywhere. Not only was he always amusing himself with poking bits of stick through the wires of my little canary’s cage, and fluttering it, until it had no more feathers on its body than a gosling, but he led our dog Carlo such a life that I really expected he’d drive him mad before he’d done with him. Either he’d be throwing the cat right on top of his back, or else he’d turn his ears inside out and tie them over his head; or else he’d harness him, out in the garden, to the beautiful little carriage I had bought for Kitty, and then clapping his hands and hooting, so as to frighten the poor thing, it would start off at such a rate that it would nearly break the chaise all to pieces against the wall. And if he could only smuggle the poor dumb creature out of the house with him when I sent him an errand, off he’d be to that muddy Regent’s Canal, and amuse himself by throwing the wretched animal right off the bridge into the water, and presently I should see it running home with all the mud that it had been rolling itself in on the way clinging to his beautiful curly coat, for all the world as if he had been covered over with fuller’s earth. Nothing would please him, too, but he must go keeping white mice in the knife-house, making the place smell as ratty as a house in chancery; and this wasn’t enough, but the hard-hearted young savage must let all the wretched animals die of starvation, and wouldn’t even take the trouble to give the poor things their food for more than a week after he had got them.

What I disliked most in the chit was his wicked deceit; for before Edward he was so meek and gentle that you would not have fancied that he could have said “Boh!” to a goose, and of course his master hadn’t got wit enough to see through the young Turk, but must be telling me, whenever I ventured to let fall a hint as to any of his tricks directly Edward was out of the house, that he never saw a better behaved lad in all his life, saying that I could not expect to have the head of a grey-beard on the shoulders of a hobbledehoy. And positively Mr. Sk--n--st--n was so taken with the artful, double-faced little brat that he must be continually giving him a penny now, and twopence then, as much as to say that he didn’t believe a word of what I had told him, and was trying to see how much he could encourage the imp in his goings on. Instead of putting all these halfpence in a money-box and saving it for his old age, the disgraceful young spendthrift put it in his money-box and only saved it to buy a trumpery little wooden theatre, and got that romantic Betsy to lend him some more to buy the whole of the scenes and characters of “THE MILLER AND HIS MEN,” so that he might act it on the kitchen dresser, while she sat in front, wasting her valuable time, as the audience. Often and often, when Edward’s been detained at chambers and I’ve been sitting alone by myself of a night waiting for him to come home, have I been almost knocked off my seat and frightened out of my wits, by hearing a report of firearms down in the kitchen, and, wondering what on earth could have happened, have rushed down stairs and found that it was only Master Wittals firing off his trumpery penny cannon, to make Miss Betsy believe that the Mill was blown up. And there I should find her clapping her hands, as the little pocket-handkerchief of a curtain came down in front of the grand transparency in the last scene, which the young monkey had got up without any regard to expense, as they say, by greasing it all over with my butter.

When I came to turn it over in my mind, it seemed as if Fate did not think it sufficient to scourge me with that dreadful novel-reading plague of a Betsy, but must also go sending a still greater plague to me, in the shape of Wittals, to drive me fairly out of my wits. Though, now that I come to think of it, I can hardly say there was a pin to choose between them; for there were six of one and half-a-dozen of the other, and both far too many for me. I’m sure of an evening, sometimes, I’ve nearly gone mad with the sound of that boy’s drawling voice, reading some highly-exciting romance, for all the world as if he were a parish clerk going over the two first lines of a psalm. There I could hear him droning away for hours, with his

“Li--ar,--return--ed--the--aughty--Hearl--of--H--e --i--Hi--d--e--l--del--b--e--r--g--berg--Heidelberg-- in--a--tone--of--suppress--ed--hire--dare--you--her-- p--a--r--par--her--par--a--her--par--a--m--o--u--r --mowr--her--par--a--mowr--speak--thus.”

Upon my word, too, that stupid Betsy filled the poor boy’s head, directly she heard he was a foundling, with such a lot of rubbish, about his being a “Mysterious Horphan,” and making him pull up his shirt-sleeves to see if he had any strawberry mark by which his parentage might be discovered, and be acknowledged as the rightful heir to his estates, that I could have given it her well, I could; for she had the impudence to tell the poor boy that noble blood flowed in his veins, and actually went to the length of asking me, whether I ever _heerd_ tell of any peer of the realm whose family name might be Wittals?

But what disgusted me with the woman more than anything else, was, that she was so fond of the mischievous young imp, that in order to screen him she would stand for hours, and tell me tarrididdles as long as my arm, and which really used to make my blood all run cold to listen to. And even if I had seen the young monkey break one of my windows through his nasty cruel love of throwing stones at the poor sparrows, as he always was, she’d even then have the face to stand me out that she did it, though I always took good care to punish her well for it, by stopping it out of her wages--which, considering Wittals had none to stop it out of, I wasn’t at all sorry at being obliged by her obstinacy to do.

Owing to that monkey of a Wittals going making a pig of himself inside the sugar cask, my doctor never came round till near upon five o’clock to see my poor little patient angel of a Kitty, who was suffering _so_ dreadfully with her nasty--nasty tiresome teeth; and the consequence was, that my little cherub was so much worse, and in such a burning high fever, that I declare she lay almost powerless in my arms, not stirring a limb, with the lids half down over her eyes, as if she were stupified with pain in her head. I never was so much alarmed in all my life, and I kept bathing her temples with vinegar, and crying over her, expecting that every minute she would be going into convulsions, and that I should be having the cherub snatched from me.

When the doctor came, he lanced her gums and ordered her to be put in a warm bath directly, and to have three leeches put upon each temple. Betsy put the leeches on, for it made my flesh creep to see, let alone to handle, the nasty slimy things, like the fingers of wet black kid gloves; and, besides, I knew I should faint dead off directly I saw my poppit’s vital stream trickling down her little cheeks. When the nasty things were taken off my pet, that stupid Betsy came down to me to know if I should like them kept. “Kept!” I cried; “bless the woman, no; go and throw them over the garden, and let the fowls at the Simmondses have them, for Heaven’s sake.” Of course what must she do but take them down stairs first, just to let that young monkey of a Wittals catch sight of them, and no sooner did he set eyes upon them, than he went to work and wheedled my lady into letting him have the filthy things to keep in one of my old pickle bottles in his bedroom--though from all I had said to her about the crawling creatures, she very well knew that I wouldn’t have them in the house for all that anybody could give me; for I can’t say how it is, but I really had a presentiment at the time that if they were not destroyed, something awful would happen. Nor was I wrong, and all through that wicked, story-telling, perverse Betsy, and that good-for-nothing, careless, menagerie-keeping young imp of a Wittals--though, for the matter of that, he wasn’t half so much to blame as she was.

My beautiful poor little lamb of a Kate, though much better, was still so ill that I didn’t like to let her sleep with nurse; so I told Sarah to put her in our bed. But the little dove was so restless all night that I couldn’t get a wink of sleep, and had to be either sitting up in the bed trying to rock her off to sleep, or else taking it in turns with Edward to pace the room with her in my arms, and merely a shawl over my shoulders. The consequence of this was, that the cold and cough which had been hanging about me ever since I was wet through, were not at all improved the next day. So in the morning, when Mr. Jupp, our medical adviser, called to see my little trot, I asked him if he would be good enough to send me round another box of the very nice cough lozenges which he had in his shop, and which had already done me a world of good.

“Feed a cold and starve a fever,” says the old adage, and so I will, said I; but as I didn’t see the fun of leaving it to Miss Betsy to choose the very food that I was going to put into my mouth, I thought, that since it was a nice fine warm day, if I wrapt myself up as close as I could, and put my thick boots on with my cork socks in them, it couldn’t possibly do me any harm just toddling round to our butcher’s, to see what he had in his shop to tempt me. When I got there, I found to my great delight that he had got two of as lovely-looking little lambs’ sweetbreads as it was ever my good fortune to see; and I was just going to tell him to send them home when, as luck would have it, I turned round and caught sight of a most beautiful picture of a round of beef, all streaked with red and white like a barber’s pole; and when I thought how deliciously it would eat stewed, with plenty of vegetables chopped up, and a rich thick brown gravy--into which a glass of port wine had been poured--I was torn to pieces between the two; and went and looked first at the sweetbreads and then at the beef, for I didn’t know which I should like best, and I told the butcher’s wife that I really couldn’t tell what to do. At last she persuaded me to have the sweetbreads for dinner that day, and the round on the morrow, especially, as she very truly said, the beef would be all the better for keeping. So I had them both, and ordering three quarters of a pound of beef steak for Edward--which, with a batter pudding to follow, would do very well I thought for our dinner that evening--galloped back home, as pleased as Punch that I had stepped round to the butcher’s myself, little dreaming of what was to be the fate of my beautiful round of beef after all.

The sweetbreads were _delicious!_ though that disagreeable monster of an Edward, seeing I was ill, of course tried to spoil my dinner, by declaring that his steaks were as tough and as stringy as corduroys. But I soon silenced my gentleman, by telling him that at any rate I had got a dinner for him on the morrow which was fit for the Emperor of China himself to sit down to; though I had a good bit of fun by not telling him _what_ it was; and keeping on tantalizing him till I made him guess almost all through the cookery book, for, not being overfond of stewed beef, of course he never dreamt it was that.

Next morning, I went down into the kitchen, at my usual hour, to see about our dinner. To make sure that Miss Betsy had not been treating herself and _that_ Wittals to a hot supper off my round of beef, as I knew, from the savoury smell there used to be down stairs very often of a night, she was in the habit of doing, though I had never been lucky enough to catch her in the fact, I just stepped into the larder to see that a slice hadn’t been taken off. At the first glance I caught of the round, I thought it had a very strange look about it, for it seemed to have lost the beautiful rich colour it had. So as our larder was rather dark, I told Betsy to carry it into the kitchen, and put it on the dresser. When I saw it fairly in the light, oh dear! oh dear! if it wasn’t as white as parchment! “What on earth _have_ you been doing to this meat, you good-for-nothing woman, you?” I exclaimed, drawing it close to me; “and what, in the name of all that’s filthy, are these black things?” I continued, just going to take hold of one of them, when I saw it move, and then, goodness gracious, the truth burst upon me! “Oh, you shameful, disobedient minx, if these are not the very leeches that I told you to throw into Mr. Simmonds’s garden.” And when I came to look well into the bleached round of beef, positively there were as many as four of the filthy, slimy vampires, who, having sucked the thing quite white, and till they were nearly as big as small black puddings, were now hanging down the sides, for all the world like the tails on my imitation ermine tippet. “Where have you put the other two?” I exclaimed, in a most tremendous passion; “tell me this minute, or I’ll have you up before a magistrate, for wilfully destroying my property, I will.” This put my lady in such a fright that she wasn’t long in pointing them out to me on the wash-hand-stand in Wittals’s room; and it was lucky I found them as soon as I did, for their noses were just over the rim of the bottle, and if I’d been a minute later, I should have had them crawling about the house, and fastening upon the legs of goodness knows who.

I caught hold of the bottle, and poking the things back into the water with the end of the young urchin’s hair brush, I rushed with the whole concern down to the end of the garden, and threw the voracious little black monsters, bottle and all, right into the Simmondses’ garden--though, as it afterwards turned out, it would have been much better if I had left them where I had found them--for no sooner did that young monkey of a Wittals miss his darling leeches, and learn from Miss Betsy what had become of them, than he must needs go clambering over the wall, and, not content with bringing them back into the house again, must go putting them into one of my empty lozenge boxes, and leaving it on the dresser with the filthy things inside of it, while he went to get another bottle to keep them in, as I afterwards found out, to my cost.

However, to come back to myself. Directly I returned to the kitchen, after having thrown the black brutes over the wall, I turned round to Miss Betsy, and said, “Throw that meat away, you nasty, perverse, self-willed minx; I wont have such meat cooked in _my_ house, and if I don’t make you pay for another piece for me out of your next quarter, I hope I may never know the taste of a round of beef again--that’s all.”

Scarcely could I have been up stairs more than a quarter of an hour, than it struck me, that not only would it be a sad pity to waste such a beautiful piece of meat as that was when I saw it in the butcher’s shop, but I had already threatened to stop so many things out of Miss Betsy’s next quarter, that I felt convinced she could never pay for half of them. So off I trotted down stairs again, and told Betsy that, as a punishment, she and Wittals should have nothing else for their dinners but that very round of beef, until it was all gone. Just as I was going up stairs again, I happened to cast my eye on the dresser, and what should I see but a lozenge-box; so, of course, fancying I must have left it there when I was down before, I took it up, and putting it in my pocket, returned to the parlour, little thinking that it was the very one into which young Wittals had, not five minutes before, put his two beastly pet leeches.

Upon my word, the chill I had taken had settled into such a dreadful cold in the head, that really when I sat down to my work again in the parlour, I couldn’t do a stitch of work for it; and though, thanks to Mr. Jupp’s lozenges, my cough was much better, still my poor head was so bad, that I couldn’t let my handkerchief remain quiet in my pocket for two moments together;--and just after Betsy had taken the milk in for tea, I was seized with a violent fit of sneezing, and I had no sooner put my pocket handkerchief to my nose than I felt a sharp twinge at the end of it, just as if some one was driving a needle right in between my nostrils. When I snatched my handkerchief away, I was as certain as possible that there was something heavy hanging at the end of it, for I could not only feel it, but when I squinted down, I could see some dark coloured thing dangling backwards and forwards; I rushed to the mirror, to learn what on earth it could be--when, augh! if there wasn’t a long black beast of a large leech sticking quite fast to my nasal organ, just like the drop to a jet ear-ring. I gave a loud scream, and put up my handkerchief to take hold of the reptile, when, oh, la! if another of the nasty filthy brutes didn’t roll right out of it on to the rug.

No sooner did my poor dear Carlo, who was lying before the fire, see something fall, than up he jumped, and began sniffing away at it, and turning it over and over with his nose, until I declare if the reptile didn’t fasten right upon it; and there he was scampering about the room, with one of the brutes dangling to _his_ nasal organ as well, tossing his head about, and growling away all the time like a mad thing; as for pulling the one at the end of _mine_ off, positively it was a waste of time to try; for really and truly, the creature clung as fast as a barnacle, and besides being as slippery as an eel, was as elastic as Indian rubber. Off I flew to the bell, and pulled it hard enough to have pulled it down, all the time shaking my head away, in the hopes that I should be able to jerk the creature off, before that snail of a Betsy came with the salt--which, however, was the only means of getting rid of it--and which I’m sure she was ten minutes, if she was a second, in bringing to me.

As soon as the leech was off, I turned round upon Miss Betsy, and showing her the little star that the long black ogre had made at the end of my nose, (which really was as white as a parsnip too,) I told her to look _there_, and see how her wickedness had marked me to my dying day, (and sure enough I’ve got the scar now,) and then ask herself if she thought it was likely that I was going to keep her in my establishment another moment after such treatment as that. However, there was one thing that I could tell her, and that was, that I wasn’t--so I very civilly told her to go and pack up her trumpery things and rubbishing romances, and be out of the house before half-an-hour was over her head; and so, thank goodness gracious, the stupid, sentimental, novel-reading, leech-preserving hussy was.

As for that Master Wittals, I told Edward that either he or I must leave the house. And as I knew Mr. Sk--n--st--n wanted a sharp active lad in his office, and Wittals was sharp and active enough, Heaven knows, why, I made Edward take him down to L--nc--ln’s Inn, the very following morning, where he could try and see if he could manage the wild young colt.

Now, thank goodness, it is Miss Sarah’s turn!

Though I had her in the house while Betsy and Wittals were there, still, as I kept her closely locked up in the nursery, of course I thought there was no fear of her being spoilt by the other two. But, bless you, she didn’t want any _spoiling_, for I do think I never came near such an artful, deceitful, prudish, straight-laced vixen as that girl was. At first, I thought she was a pattern of virtue and affection, and that she loved children as much as she led me to believe she hated the men. My little Kate was nothing more nor less than “an angel dropped down from the skies, it was”--according to her; and it was always, “such a shame not to let it have what it wanted, a dear,”--with her nasty double-faced “bless its dear little heart!” and “love its sweet little eyes!” to my face; and then, how she would beat it, and pinch it, and shake it, behind my back--oh my! She would never marry, she wouldn’t, oh no! the men were such nasty selfish things, to her thinking, that she couldn’t bear the sight of them--not she; and all the while she would be lolling, nearly the whole of the day, half way out of the window, ogling and grinning at every whipper-snapper of a fellow that came within leer of the place. But if I had thought for a moment, I might have known that it would be the case. Any one would have fancied, I dare say, that I was sick and tired of pretty maids, after the way in which Miss Susan went on. But what was I to do? Either I must have my little cherub catching the expression of some common-looking servant girl, or else, if I had a decent-looking maid, with a pleasant face of her own for the little chick to look at, then I must be plagued to death by a pack of idle vagabonds of young men, always dancing at her heels wherever she went, and the girl looking after them instead of my little lamb. Then I used to send her out, like a stupid, into the Regent’s Park, for what I fancied was an airing for the child. Pretty airing, indeed! But more of this hereafter.

Well, one day, just after the new cook came in, I had packed off Miss Innocence with my darling poppit, in her little carriage, for a nice hour’s ride in the park. And as I watched little Kate down the street, I thought she did look _so_ nice with her beautiful white feather coming over her straw hat, and her neat little green silk pelisse, which I had made on purpose for the little darling out of my old scarf,--and when I saw Sarah making the little dear shake its little, fat, tiny hand to me across the road, I couldn’t help saying to myself, “Well, I’m glad the girl’s fond of it, as I do think I should have fretted my life out, if I fancied that a servant of mine ill-treated or neglected any of my little ones.”

Kitty’s little dinner had been ready more than half-an-hour, and yet there were no signs of Sarah’s return with the pet, so I felt sure that either she had mistaken the time, or else--as it was a very fine day--had gone for a little longer walk than usual; and then, as I thought a mouthful of fresh air wouldn’t hurt me, and it was such charming weather, I ran up stairs and slipt on my bonnet and scarf, and determined on going and meeting them as they came home. “Ah!” I said to myself, while I was putting on my things, “now if that child had been out with any other person than a steady girl like Sarah, I should have been very much alarmed. And isn’t it much cheaper, now, to give a pound or two extra wages, and feel assured that wherever your child might go, and however long she might be away from you, she is, at least, out of harm’s way, and couldn’t be in better hands even if she were at home.”

So off I went, consoling myself in this way, and thinking what a dinner the little poppit would make after being out in the air so long. As I knew Sarah in general promenaded up and down the broad walk, because, in the first place, there were no horses and carriages there; and, secondly, the keepers always take care to protect a poor lone woman from insult, as she said; as I knew that I should be sure to find her there, I made the best of my way towards that quarter. Just as I had got about half way down, I thought I saw some one very like her coming up the path towards me; but when I looked again, I was satisfied it couldn’t be Sarah, for there was a young man with her, who was continually poking his head under her bonnet, and looking up in her face. And yet, when the young woman came nearer, I knew it was my maid, by the carriage and my little Kitty’s bonnet and feather. I felt convinced that the poor girl was making the best of her way towards the keeper, to avoid the young man’s persecutions, and I stood still, expecting every minute to see her give the monkey in charge. But when I beheld my lady march right past the man in the green livery, and, indeed, with her head turned the other way, I couldn’t help saying to myself--“Well, now, there’s deceit for you! Oh! you hate the men, do you?” And scarcely had I said it, when a great Newfoundland dog came tearing behind the carriage, and turned it right over on its side; and though my little pet began screaming away, still my lady was so wrapt up in the nonsense the fellow was stuffing into her head, that, bless you! she no more heard the screams of my darling than she seemed to be aware the carriage was upset; for on she went, flirting away, casting die-away looks at the fellow, and tapping his hand with her trumpery parasol, as much as to say--“Go along with you, do, you naughty, naughty man,” while she kept dragging the carriage after her, flat on its side, as it

was, and my little beauty, all along the gravel, as if it had been a garden-roller. Directly I saw the chaise upset, I ran towards the minx as fast as my legs would carry me; but even then I couldn’t reach her in time enough to save my pretty cherub; and when I got up to it--oh, dear me! if its sweet little face wasn’t scored all over like crackling, and the gravel sticking into her cheeks for all the world like a bit of asphalte pavement.

I could have looked over this misfortune, (although, if the courteous reader will believe me, my little Kate has got some of the grits in her cheeks to this very day, and you can feel the gravel under the skin, like the stones in currants,) but it was the woman’s nasty, wicked deceit, in making me believe that she hated the very sight of a man, that set me against her. But I put a stop to those walks in the Park pretty soon. No wonder she was so anxious to take the child out to do it good--a toad!

What made me not like to part with her, however, was, that she seemed so head over ears in love with my little beauty, that I felt quite an interest in the woman, and was stupid enough to believe, that if I could only keep her away from that bothering Regent’s Park, and the lawyers’ clerks out of place, that are always lolloping about on the seats there, she would go on very well. Still, notwithstanding all the affection she made such a show of towards my little life, Edward and I used to remark that the child was always crying when it was up in the nursery; and when we asked her what was the reason of it all, leave her alone for having some taradiddle always ready at the tip of her tongue, by way of answer. Oh! then it was either the little love was fretting after its dear mamma, or else its poor teeth were wherreting its poor soul out, and the little Goody Two Shoes was ready to tear its little mouth to pieces, it was! (Was there ever such a double-faced crocodile?) But the mystery was soon cleared up; for one fine morning, a nice old silver-haired gentleman knocked at the door a few minutes after my lady had come in with my pet from its airing, (which had done it _so_ much good, that it had got _such_ an appetite for its little dinner, I couldn’t tell!) and, like a good old soul, said he had called to tell me that he had seen that Miss Sarah of mine (who was _so_ fond of my Kate that she could eat her!) ill-treating the poor little dear so shamefully in the open streets, that he couldn’t help following her home, and informing me of it. Directly the dear old gentleman had gone, I had my little cherub down, and, stripping it, lo! and behold, if the little dear’s white skin wasn’t dappled all over black and blue, with the pinches _that_ deceitful, hard-hearted nurse of mine had given it, till positively it had more the appearance of a little iron grey pony than a human being! Oh! how my fingers _did_ itch to be about the creature!

So I got rid of that deceitful bit of goods very soon, I can assure you; and so, indeed, I did of a number of others after her; for, upon my word, they are all alike, whether they are cooks, or housemaids, or nurserymaids, or pages, or footmen, it’s the same story over and over again--worry, worry--bother, bother--from morning till night, and not a moment’s peace to be had for love or money. A maid-of-all-work was quite a match for me; but, when we got on in the world, so as to be able to afford a footman--Lord bless me! I was positively mad from the moment I got up to the moment I went to bed again. Now, there was that lazy, impudent, fat footman of a Duffy. I’m sure he was--but my courteous readers must excuse me entering into particulars at present. They will be able to judge of the character my gentleman was from Mr. Cruikshank’s admirable plate. But it wasn’t only the laziness and cool impudence of the fat pig that pleased me, but he had a nasty way of--but I’m sorry to say I must reserve it all for another chapter.