296 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
I am fully persuaded that all the moneys paid to 
a really good cook are moneys put into the bank. — 
I often make trips to the kitchen to tell Mary q 
that “the dinner was great,’ or that “Mrs. 
Kyrle wants the receipt for that pudding,” or 
that “my friend Kyrle asks if he may see you ~ 
make a salad dressing ;” but “don’t do it, Mary; — 
let the secret die with you.” The cook cackles, — 
like the guinea-hen that she is, but the dishes are 
none the worse for the commendation. a 
The laundress is just a washerwoman, so far — 
as I know. She undoubtedly changes with the — 
seasons, but I do not see her, though the clothes — 
are always bleaching on the grass at the back of 
the house. 
The maids are as changeable as old-fashioned 
silk. There are always two of them; but which — 
two, is beyond me. I tell Polly that Four Oaks — 
is a sprocket-wheel for maids, with two links of 7 
an endless chain always on top. It makes but 7 
little difference which links are up, so the work 7 
goes smoothly. Polly thinks the maids come 7 
to Four Oaks just as less independent folk go to 7 
the mountains or the shore, for a vacation, or q ) 
to be able to say to the policeman, “ I’ve been to 
the country.” Their system is past finding out; 
but no matter what it is, we get our dishes 
washed and our beds made without serious in- 
convenience. The wage account in the house 4 
amounts to just $25 a week. My pet system o , 
an increasing wage for protracted service doesn’t i 
