E
geltrt gait.
PARLOR AND KITCHEN,
OR,
lungdpoTTEß's MISTAKE,
BY RAP BAZARD
In most sections of the Western States,
twenty years ago, abundant means (lid not al
ways bring relief from domestic duty and
drudgery, especially to females. In the corn•
try all were independent farmers, on their
own wild hind, requiting all the labor of every
member of the household, and in the towns
social orders had nothing of the acknowledged
position belonging to older communities; the
poor expected soon to be rich, when according
to their favorite phrase, they would be as geed
as anybody, ambit was rare indeed that any
one could be induced to undertake the duties
of household service. Gentlemen were com
pelled to groom their own horses, and drive
their own cows or dispense with the comforts
from the possession of these useful animals,
and ladles were oblidged to sacrifice inclina
tion and taste, and often give their entire
time to cooking, house cleaning and sewing,
or suffer the consequences.
Pre eminent among those who never allow
ed their household to feel the need of com-:
forts they could provide, resulting either
from their own labor, or that of others under
their direction, many an old inhabitant of
Deerville, Indiana, will remember Mrs. Thom
as. True, the village of those days has now
become a city of no small pretentious or ac
tual importance ; has changed its name for
one less suggestive of bord(4 life, and is be
come quite cos nopolitan in many respects;
yet Mrs. Thomas lives there still ; loving the
tender vines, shrubs and trees which she
planted a quarter of a century since, and
from that quiet retreat holding converse with
the more active world, only through papers,
books and letters, and the visits of children,
who have made other homes, or the friends of
earlier days who are still left to receive her
cordial welcome. If in the months when the
ruddy or russet fruit is dropping from the
branches, or the 'shocks of corn fully ripe'
are gathered into the garner, she feels that her
autumn of life is also come ; in the glad.
Spring, as the buds burst, the flowers unfold
and the birds build nests in every bush on her
grounds, she renews her youth, and is again,o
in heart and spirit, in the morning of her days;
and Aime that touches her, yet touches her.
gently, in face and form, in the winter, seems
anxious to repair his work, and restore entire
freshness to one whose heart will never grow
old.
It is the rare preservation of interest in the
affairs of active life in which she no longer
participates, admiration of the good, love for
the beautiful, joy with the successful and hap
py, and sympathy for the afflicted and ardor.
tunate, that makes her society sought more
than she always desires. A remark once ad
dressed• to her by Judge Sinclair, who never
failed, when holding court in town, to be the
welcome guest of her husband, formed a com
prehensive commentary upon her qualities, as
a wife, mother and friend, and which is ap
plicable now as then, although called out be
fore her family circle was at all broken. •
'Mrs. Thomas, I have just arrived at a solu
tion of what has often been rather mysterious
about you,' said the judge, smoothing his
napkin as was his custom after a satisfactory
dinner, and folding it carefully before putting
it in the ring.
'I wish you would give me the benefit of
it. There are some matters about me which
I do not fully understand myself, and perhaps
this is one of them,' said Mrs. Thomas, very
quietly.
I have often wondered how your house
should be such a pleasant place, both for its
constant and its casual inmates ; and I believe
I have hit upon IL You always treat your
guests as if they were members of your own
family, and the members of your own family
as if they were your own guests.'
'I do not know of any ono who has a strong
er claim upon my best efforts than my husband
and children,' said she tenderly, 'and I never
invite any persons to my house whom I can
not receive cordially, and strive to render
happy so long as they remain.'
put,llirs, Thomas did not devote her entire
time to domestic duties, even when unassisted
in their performance. Although very far from
enjo'ying perfect health, yet she could 'do all
her own work,' as her neighbors expressed It
and still have some leisure for reading,' care__
- of the poor, sympathetic and consistent cation
i n many enterprises of benevolence and so
cial improvement, friendly , Intercourse, and
proper attention to religiotia observances.—
But to accomplish this, it was necessary to be
industrious. In such a life there is found
much labor for the head.ar4khands, as well as
call for great expansion oflo,heart.
When it was possible to procure 'help,'
liars.Thomp was always most willing to have
assistance in the kitchen, and chambers, that
she might have more time to devote to her
husband, children and friends, and for those
elevating eujoyments and pnisuits :in which
she delighted. But the girls and women who,
from time to . time; entered her service, were
so poorly qualified for the position, that they
often occasioned her more labor. than they rei
lioved her from, and if they proved sadly in.
corrigible or unimprovablo, she would dismiss
thou, and resume her labors alone.
Being always careful that her house should
he at least healthfully clean, and conducive
to elegant comfort, dismissed servants and
their confederates and slovenly - neighbors
seemed to fe . el personally solaced, if they call
ed her 'very particular.' With economy in
the use and taste in the selection of furniture
and costume for herself and family, all gener
ally presented so good an oppearenen, that
many who disbursed double the amount in a
year which she expendeL), and never looked
half so well, at home or abroad, called her
'extravagant.' Exercising an independent
choice among her acquaintances, for the fre
quent association of those only whose habits,
tastes, feelings, intelligence and aspirations,
- harmonized with her own, those acquaintances
who would not pretend to any affinity with
her in thetie matters, thought her 'very proud.'
These various charges never annoyed her an
atom. She was sati-fied that they were cur
rent among those only who knew simply her
name or face. She remembered that she had
a right to be particular; that her husband's
ever open purse was sufficient contradiction
to the assertion that she was extravagant ;
and she believed that God would never accuse
her of being very proud ; she cared for none
of these things, and all who in any way be
came familiar with, her inner life, were con
vinced of the utter falsity of the carefully
whispered accusations.
Mrs. Thomas was one of those useful wo
men of a passing period, if not already passed,
who never hesitated to send word to morning
callers that she was 'engaged in the kitchen,•
if it so happened, and she should be compel
led to keep them waiting a few minutes; or,
that it was 'washing day,'-an, that unless'up
on some very urgent matterlhey must excuse
her entirely. If she really must see the com
pany at an inconvenient hour, she never ran
from the kitchen to her room to tear off her
calico clothes, jump into an embroidered pet.
ticoat and
as
morning gown, and sail ;two
the parlor as if just called - from some exceed
ingly light and dainty employment, but Ink
her visitors frankly and freely in the costume
of the moment, always neat and appropriate,
deeming the kind of duty in which she was
engaged, a sufficient explanation of fabric or
style. And yet like all refined of her sex, she
loved 'soft raiment,' and when other duties
did not prevent, found a sort of genuine plea
sure in wearing the 'choicest wonders of the
loom,' or products of the fingers, if they were
really beautiful in themselves.
But this is wandering, or rather keeping too
long away from the simple object of this writ- -
ing—the narration of an incident in her do
mestic experience, which Mrs. Thomas used
to relate herself with great glee and such pan
tomimic illustrations as set the scene vividly
before her listener.
She and her only daughter, just returned
from her four years absence at the seminary,
were dividing the domestic duties of the morn
ing between them, and it so happened that
the care of arranging the chambers, sweeping
and dusting, and laying the table in the din
ing room fell to the younger lady ; while ;qrs.
Thomas essayed alone the'preparation of the
dinner. She bad brought it to a near conclu
sion, and was just preparing to dish up the
vegetables, when a rap at the kitchen door
surprised her, and opening it she saw an old
lady, attired in a black bombazine bonnet and
dress, a faded shawl on her shoulders, and an
old silk work-bag of huge capacity banging on
her arm.
'ls Square Thomas at hum?'
'He is not at the house, but will probably,
be hero directly, as it is nearly dinner time;
will you walk in 1'
'No, thank you ; guess I'll set in my wagon
and wait for him.'
'Oh, no, you had better come into the•
house,' said Dire. Thomas persuasively.
'Well, I reckon I'll just step in here," said
the old — woman, and entering the kitchen,
dropped into the chair' nearest the door, to
the surprise of Dire. Thomas, who was leading
the way through the dining room to the front
part of the house. She returned and asked
the visitor to go into a cooler room.•
'No, thank you, I'd ruther stay hero; ('pose
he won't be long coming.'
'Very well, if you prefer it; be can come
out here, though I presume ho would rather
see you in the library.'
M rs. Thomas went on with the dinner,
closely watched by, the visitor, in whom she
thought she recognized, merely from descrip
tion, a client of her husband, who' annoyed
her exceedingly about the settlement of the
trifling estate of her 'dear departed Potter.'
She was just about to venture a semi-inquisi
tive remark on tho relict in black bombazine,
based upon this supposition, when the some
what venerable widow forestalled her, by,ask
ing sharply, 'How long havo you lived with
Mr.. Thomas.'
.So..*,aizb 00.t0,
, Olt, a great while. So long that I hatklly
know—'
'Possible!' interrupted the visitor. 'And
where'did you come from here?'
Mrs. Thomas started at the oddity of the
question, but said—'From New York ; why
you ,ought to know.'
'Oh, yrs, I thought as much,' broke in the
old lady again, 'you some from a distance;
Mis Thomas can't.get nobody 'around hereto
live with her lonE4'
Mrs. Thomas was perplexed and puzzled for
a moment, but instantly surmising that her
visitor took her for a 'hired girl,' she forgave
the impertinence of the old woman, while tier
enjoyment of an innocent joke allowed her to
sustain the chnrect l er a little while for her
own edification, and subsequently that of her
visitor.
'Do you know Mrs. Thomas?' asked she
'Oh, law ! yes; that is, I've never seen her,
but I've heart' tell of her, and that's enough.'
'Well, what do you• hear of her ?' asket
Mrs Thomas, as she sat down to peel the po
tatoes.
'She's orful partickler about her work, i
has to be done jist so ; and she's so stuck up
she thinks her ways better'n anybody else's
nobody can never suit her anyhow.'
'She does like to have her work done ac
cording to her own idea, but I never had any
trouble in pleasing her, as I think when I
work for others I should strive to do as they
desire, not as I may want to.'
, Well—yes ; but girls as has been well
br.mght up, has jist as good a right to their
way as anybody else, if they aint quite so
rich.'
'To he sure they have about their own af
fairs, but when a .girl undertakes to do an
other's work, it is not her own work; and her
will should not be set up in opposition to her
employer. Is not that reasonable. Now,
after I know how Mrs. Thomas wants work
done, I try to do it so, and we have never
had a word of difficulty since I lived with
her.'
.You ain't 1 ke most girls, that's all.'
'No, I suppose not; but if they would do as
I do in this matter, they would get along
much better. I always advise those that I
know, to try it, and a great ninny have found
out it is the best way, and in fact, the only
way.'
The potatoes being peeled, and the dinner
done, Mrs. Thomas was so busy for a few min
utes in carrying it to the dining-room That
any further conversation was prevented, be
yond a few short questions and answers, such
as 'Do you make tea every day fur dinner, for
Miss Thomas?' asked by the ever inquisitive
Mrs. Potter, as the urn came out for hot water
and Souchoug.
'No, but whenever she wants it I do.'
'Well, I would'ut—there!'
'Nut if you knew a cup of tea was very re
freshing to her?'
'No, if she wanted tea for dinner she
might make it herself,' said the old lady,
spitefully.
Dinner was served, and Mr. Thomas had
not yet come from town. Mrs. Thomas asked
Mrs. Potter to walk into the other room, lay
off her things, and take some'dinner; prota
bly Mr. Thomas would come in while they
were eating. There was no one in the house
but Mrs. Thomas and her daUghter, and she
need not hesitate at all.
'No, I'd rather stay here. Her daughter's
jest home from the seminary, ain't she?
'Yes, a few weeks ago.'
'She don't do nothing, I s'poso, but lay abed
and play on her planer?'
'Oh!' yes, said Mrs. Thomas, nearly con
vulsed with laughter, 'she is a real worker;
gets up early, and would do all the housework,
if her mother and I would let her; she says
she wants to learn over again what she has
partly forgotten at school.'
'Du tell! well she must be uncommon!'
'Perhaps she is. But come; come into
dinner.'
'No! I'll gay out hero and eat with you,
after they're done.'
'I bat - with the fa i mily.'
'You do? I thought Mrs. Thomas would not
let her girls sot at the table with her. That's
what they say in our parts.'
. 'They aro mistaken. Mrs. Thomas never
makes any strong objection, if girls want to do
it, or insist upon it ; but she lays it down as
a rule, that every body.at her table must be
neatly and cleanly dressed, and if they sit
there they must be so too; which she knows
is very hard for them at all times in doing
kitchen work ; and she knows also it is better
for them every way to prepare a table for and
by themselves, where they can look and sot as
they like ; that if they sit at the table with
the family, they have no freedom of action,
because she will have that time for social
conversation with her fainily unless invited
guests are present, it being the only time when
they are all together and they have a right to
enjoy it.
'I s'poso she thinks she's better then her
girls. Of course she won't want = intrudite.'
'No, oho does not think•shois,any better, if
they do jell; but, that she has a right to en
joy the society of her-friends and family at
the table, and that it is convenient for all, and
most so Air themselves, for them to sit with
the family. No, she won't think you are in
truding ; she wants me to make you come in.
She is anxious to.ipt a viainted with you, and
thinks she shall like you very much.'
'MeV-exclaimed the old lady all in aflutter,
bow GeVillie know anything of me ?'
. •She has heard Mr. Thomas speak of you
and besides she has seen yon.'
now the Squire is a right sociable kind
of a men ; alleys has it pleasant word for
every body ; but I gess she's never seen me;
she's never been in our neighborhood.'
`Yes she hen, often ; come along, the dinner
is growing cold, and she is waiting for you ;'
and Mrs. Thomas fairly drew the old lady in
to the dining room, where, with the assis
tance of Jennie Thomas, she was relieved of
her bonnet, bag and shawl, and seated at the
table.
Mrs Potter regarded Jennie with much in
terest, who, although attired in the simple and
tasteful dress in which sho first lofher room
in the morning, looked very elegait in the
widow's eyes.
Jennie knew not a word of all that had pass
ed in the kitchen, and could not understand
the merry expression playing around her moth
er's features As her father did not come she
sat down where she could carve, and help the
others, while 'Mrs. Thoinas, of course, took
the seat at the head of the table by the tea
urn, and began to prepare the beverage.
It was impossible to fix the old lady's atten
tion. She wits bewildered;, whether most at
the suavity of Jennie, or the familiarity with
which the 'hired girl,' handled the silver tea
things, and consulted her taste in preparing
the cup fur drinking or at the attention they
both paid to herself, it {V as hard to determine.
Jeunie's wonder was most excited by the
the look of expectancy with which Mrs. Potter
regarded the diffeitut doors of the apartment
as if from some of theni" a wonderful vision
was about to open to her sight.
The dining room .was central to a large
house, and there were fourteen or fifteen doors
opening into it frum various rooms, passages
and closets. Mrs Thomas knew well enough
that her guest was watching fur the appear
ance of the lady, of whom she had heard tell'
so much, but knew so little, and while she
enjoyed the passing moments infinitely, the
would return no explanation to the enquiring
look of Jennie.
, Mrs. Potter could not with hold her eyes
from the different doors long enough to eat
anything, or make coherent replies to the re
marks of her companions at table. The least
noise about the house threw her into the ut
most contusion and occasioned renewed and
close scrutiny of the numerous doors. In
vain the mystified Jennie, and the amused Mrs.
Thomas, pressed upon her acceptance the va
rious articles composing the repast, and urged
her to taste them. It was very evident that
not for the gratification of her palate had she
ventured, or rather allowed herself to be
drawn into the dining room.
Jennie became uneasy, if not positively
alarmed, at the appearance of her compan
ions. The expression of mischief or mirth,
she was:uncertain which, in her mother's face,
grow more intense every moment ; while the
while the wondering eyes of Mrs. Potter, and
her apprehensive matter, affected Jennie most
unpleasantly. A silence settled over the
whole group. Mrs. Potter finally paid some
little attention to the contents of her plate, but
more to those of her tea cup.—Mrs. Thomas
proposed to substitute a fresh hot cup full for
that which had grown cold in the interim,
bui the widow persistently refused to make
the exchange. Pouring half the beverage in
to the saucer, probably from the force of habit
for it was impossible to cool it any more, with•
out ice, she raised the saucer to her lips still
keeping her eyes on one- or another of the
doors. • •
Just at this moment Jennie verry innocently
nquired—
'Mother is it not.vory strange that father
does not come t'
'No, I think not ; court may not have ad
onrned yet.'
Down fell the china saucer from the widow's
lips and fingers with a crash, while the cold
ten trickled from her mouth and spread over
her black bombazine ; her body fell heavily
against the back of the chair, her hands flew
into the air and then dropped powerless at her
do; and in the relaxation of the muscles of
hor face, her lower jaw might as well have
been unhinged for any practical good that she
could derive from its possession.
Jennie sprung up and screamed with fright,
certain now that the woman was a orasy old
creature, subject to fits; and yet, the remark
able composure of her mother somewhat reas
sured her. Just then her father entered, and
she ran to his side, sure of protection there,
in any event.
Mrs. Thomas watched the widow closely
and anxiously, but did not discover signs of
anything more dangerous than a fainting fit
or possibly a short attack of hysterics; but
even at this praspeat, the kindness of her heart
made her feel some compunctions of conoienee
and she was rising to reach some restorative
from the medicine closet, when an attempt of
tho old lady at utterance, arrested her steps.
Mrs. Potter' was indeed rapidly recovering
herself, but yet, her lower jiiiv 'would only
come up to a speaking position occasionally.
Whenever it would do so, sho fixed her eyes
on one and another of the trio:—
•Ah•ar-are-you are you her-her daughter ?,
Jennie, not yet entirely recovered from her
fright looked at her parents, as if they had
better aneyver that question.
'Are you—are you—'oh ! dear me I—are
you Mrs. Thomas?'
Mrs. Thomas who was now addressed,,see
ing that Mrs. Potter's eyeti were of more ser
vice to her just at that moment than her ears,
simply nodded assent, without speaking.
•Mis—Mis—Mister Thomas—are you" her
hus—husband—her husband.'
I think so.' said he coming forward ; am
not aware of any divorce being decreed. But,
Mrs. Potteil what is the matter, my dear wo
man ; will not your boys allow you to plant
potatoes in the orchard ? Wife ! Jennie !
what does all this mean ? Do explain.'
Oli ! dear me I' broke in poor Mrs. Pot
ter, with more firmness of voice, but with no
abatement of distress. 'Whafhave I said; what
did I say ? Oh ! I shall die ! I know I shall !'
'Between repeated assurances to theold lady
that not the least harm had been done, that
nothing had been said that need giVe her any
distress, Mrs. Thomas proceeded to explain
to her husband and Jennie the little prelude
that had been introductory to this scene.'
Mrs. Potter was at last brought to a Watt.
quill state, and was induced to remain the en
tire afternoon, during which many more of
her impressions of Mrs. Thomas and Jennie
were corrected, and they all became great
frientig. 'lndeed Mrs. Potter, at one of her
subsequent visits which were often repeated
until her last sickness, begged of Mrs. Thom
as that she would receive Polly ,Putter, her
youngest daughter, then atou,t fifteen, into her
family es a domestic for a few years. She
acceded to the. request, ,and- - while Polly's
mother was a life-loitg friend and admirer of
Mrs. Thomas, Polly herself became the most
useful assistant' she ever employed, and in
time a most skillful housekeeper, and an in
telligent, handsome young woman,
Reader; One word; (that is provided any
reader has continued on to this paragraph.)
If you attend winter evening parties of the
most desirable character on Michigan or Wa
bash avenue, you meet at any if not all of
them, the former Polly Potter, now the sensi
ble and agreeable, though not highly necom.
plisbed, Mrs. who makes good use of
the abundant possessions which have rewarded
the early and honest ventures of her husband
in Chicago real estate.—Although I do not
suppose she will thank me for .making it so
very public, neither is she ashamed of the
fact I here disclos e-her humble oligin. If she
were, I, Hap Hazard, would never leave ano
ther card at her door, or put my foot again
upon her velvet carpets.
, In a country where
a 'Mill Boy of the Slashes,' may become 90
most accomplished of statesmen and polished
of orators, a lads sorely need not blush to
own that in her youth sbe filled the position
of a domestic, if she filled it well.
Mrs. Thomas very rarely comes to the city.
You may have seen her at the almost palatial
residence of Mrs.—, who often asks to be
called 'Polly,' by her, so suggestive is that
name—by her kindly spoken—of Many
.in
structive lessons she has found so beneficial in
her subsequent life. Mrs. Thomas, believer,
will not yield this point, saying that present
position, 'whatever it may be, is most deserving
of regard and appropriate consideration, nei
ther to be shorn of honor or respected by what
may have preceded it, nor so walled about by
arbit.ary distinctions as to prevent rising to
any other to which inclination and capacity
can carry the individual, so she ever addresses
Polly ns do you and I reader, when we are so
happy as to meet her.
HUNTING SNAKES.-Dr. Thomas of Monti
cello, Ind., reports a case of rattlesnake bite.
Mr. J, H. S., (ago 88, who stands six feet in
his stockings; who, by the way was very fond
of brandy) who bad just been bitten on the
inside of his left heel by a large rattlesnake
—both fangs had been well inserted in the
muscles. I gave him, in the short time allu
ded to, ono quart of br . andy and one and a
half gallons of whiskey .-= all without intoxica
tion. H,e wanted more, and I refused to sup
ply his wants.'
The next day Mr. 11., his next door neigh
bor, saw him passing along, and saw him with
his . pants rolled to his knees, barefooted, axd
walking round in some woods and grass with
his foot. He asked if ho hnd lost anything.
'No, sir.' What aro you doing then?' lam
hunting a snake. There ain't any liquor only
what Dr. Thomas - has, and ho won't let me
have any unless I am snake•bit, so I am hunt
-A '—North- Western Medical and Surgical
mg ono.'-
Ho who gains the victory over great insults
s often overpower - 0 1 V Illk:stuallest.