I can’t understand—silk dress and sugar, cof¬ 
fee and laces,—furs and flour—wliat is it 
all ? Katy, our good cook, the best we ever 
had, in prison?” 
Mrs. Grant then told her story; at its 
conclusion Mr. Benson exclaimed, “ Well, 
you ladies do manage affairs curiously! If 
we men ruled our clerks as you do your girls, 
we should be in hot water all the time. They 
learn tbeir work, are paid accordingly, un¬ 
derstand their business, and pay heed to their 
employer’s advice, or leave. Now I do pity 
that poor Katy, friendless and in prison, 
ready for the assaults of the Devil and his 
crew. I tell you, Saha, I'll help Grant get 
that pardon, and then we will see what is 
best. Parson Green preached last Sunday 
from that text in Matthew :— 1 Inasmuch as 
ye did it not to one of the least ot these, ye 
did it not to me.’ The words have rung in 
my ears ever since; here is the opportunity 
to apply them. Katy is * one of the least of 
cun be employed in first-class families. 1 he 
daughters of the middle classes seek instruc¬ 
tion in the kitchens of the higher ranks, and 
give unpaid service to attain it. With us it 
would seem that the greater a girl’B inca¬ 
pacity, the higher the wages she demands. 
We hold the reins, yet consent to be driven. 
The power is ours, and we delegate it to 
them. There is no co-operation among 
mistresses, and the servants league against 
us. If the ladies in this town would form a 
code of laws by which tlieir servants should 
he governed in some few particulars, there 
would be an end to ouc-balf of our vexa¬ 
tions. Now, each lady manages in her own 
way, or usually as her servants choose to 
manage her. If they desire to go out every 
IN CLOVER, 
mnor 
I've made myself a nest 
Whore the grass jg all in flower, 
Where the wild rose sheds Its leaves, 
Whore the great ox-dalstes tower. 
X watch the butterfly 
Roam all the wide field over. 
As lazily I He 
For once at least in clover. 
The swallows skim and dip 
Aroood mo and above me; 
The wild doves in the copse 
Murmur as If they love me, 
I hear a voice once dear 
In every blackbird’s whistle, 
And even In the chirp 
OX the Koldfluck on the thistle. 
I am lord of these domains 
For a summer hour at least. 
And I bid the fairies come 
To the revel and the feast. 
From the honeysuckle’s bloom, 
From the bell of the foxglove swaying, 
From the enp <>f every flower 
Whore the little elves are playing. 
My pipe by iny lazy hand 
Burns like a gunner's fuse, 
When tho deud man trampled lies; 
Ami see. there over my shoes 
The ants, an eager host. 
Are bent upon Invading, 
Fierce, ruthless, hot, and keen, 
For conquest and crusading. 
Between the wiry stalks 
Of grasses goyly dancing 
I sue shy creatures peep, 
And full les’ quick eyes glancing; 
Shall monsters climb and pry 
Upon the Cowslip blossom, 
Clinging like sailor hoy* 
When the sou'IVesters toss ’em. 
The dragon-fly. With wiugs 
Of silver gauze, is darting; 
The midges’ circling waltz 
In greedy auger parting. 
Xu the brook that near me flows 
The yellow lily's swimming, 
Whore just beyond the mill 
The fuller streum Is trimming. 
Close by me in the Meld 
The dappled cows are browsing, 
And there on the king-cups gold 
The sleeping bee Is drowsing. 
A* the fairies will not Oome, 
At ieust iu any number, 
I’ll -teal Just half an hour 
For a little dreamy slumber. 
X fei I like a man enchanted 
By these summer sounds and sights; 
Tltantu, cumo to mo, 
Crowned with thy glow-worm lights. 
Come in the sunlight dim. 
And kiss me as I'm sleeping; 
Already thy fairy guards 
Their secret watch arc keeping. 
1 fall trom uloud to cloud, 
Down n precipice of dreams. 
Deeper than ever Vulcan fell,— 
1 sco strange lands and streams; 
When all at once soft lips touch mine 
(It’s a fact that I am stating,) 
An ti the sweetest voice you ever heard 
Says, “ Darling, tea is waiting." 
f Walter Thornbury. 
PENELOPE 
(SIMPSON’S BAR, 1858.) 
So you’ve kem 'yer agon, 
And one answer won’t do? 
Well, of all the derned men 
That I've struck, it is you. 
O Sal! ’yer’s that derned fool from Simpson’s, ca. 
vortin’ round 'yer in the dew. 
Kem in, ef you will- 
Thar—quitTake a cheer. 
Not that; you can’t All 
Them theer cushings this year— 
For that cheer was my old man's, .Toe Simpson, and 
they don't make such men about ’yer. 
He was tall, was my Jack, 
And as strong us a true. 
Thar’s his gun on the rack— 
Jest you heft it, and see. 
And you oome a courtin’ his widder. Lord! where 
can that critter, Sal, be I 
You'd fill my Jack’s place 1 
And a man of your size— 
With no baird to his face. 
Nor a snap to bis eyes— 
And nary-Sho! thar I was foolia—I was. 
for sartln—don’t rise. 
ashes. What will the Lord of the vineyard 
say when he comes in to gather in his 
sheaves and finds * nothing but. leaves?’ ” 
“ Oh, Fanny, how severe you arc! Sure¬ 
ly you dou’t think that we are responsible 
for the evil doings of these plagues of the 
nineteenth century. They lie and steal; 
are we to blame for that?” 
« Yes, 1 think we are; we forget that clause 
of the Lord’s Prayer, '■Lead us not into tempt¬ 
ation ,’ and leave.sugar, tea,flour, butter, with 
all other eatables, in such quantities that 
they think they can defy detection, if they 
carry a few handfuls to an old mother, sick 
sister or suffering auut. \Ve tempt them to 
steal, and the sin is in a degree ours. Steal¬ 
ing and lying are twin sisters—nay, more, 
Siamese twins; they never go apart; the 
one sin entails the other. Found out in their 
pilferings, they must needs commit the other 
sin, and bring a greater weight of responsi¬ 
bility upon our shoulders. You look incred¬ 
ulous, Sara, but it. is a sad truth. 1 visited 
the House of Correction the other day, and 
found Katy Kirnegan there,. She lived 
with you four years ago, was a good cook, 
washer and ironte; but you remember that 
tea, coffee, sugar, etc., disappeared more rap¬ 
idly than usual, and after eight or ten mouths’ 
service you sent her away. Sho begged for 
a character—said she should starve without 
it, and you gave her one for the duties she 
could well perform, unmindful that she was 
both a liar and a thief." 
“ Now, Fanny, that is too provoking in 
you! You know that 1 gave that character 
from mere pity. You do me great injustice 
when you speak so.” 
“ 1 would not, dear Bara, did I not desire 
to show you that the fault of had servants 
lies partly at our own door; but to my story; 
Katy avoided me at first. I determined to 
speak to her, and asked the matron to bring 
her to me, inquiring for what she was im¬ 
prisoned. 
She said, “ for stealing wearing apparel— 
a silk dress, laces and furs.” 
“ The horrid wretch! I know she took my 
point lace collar and sleeves. I declare she 
ought to go to States Prison!” 
“ Mrs. Farnum, the matron, brought her 
to me and left us together. The girl covered 
her face with her hands and wept bitter 
tears. I waited until the violence of her 
grief had passed away, then asked her what 
had reduced her to such a level. 
“ ‘ Oh, ma’am,’ she cried, ‘1 never took a 
pin’s worth until 1 lived with Mrs. Benson. 
She never locked-up anything. There was 
Sit down. Eliw t why, sho! 
I’m as weak as u etil. 
Sal! Don’t you tfo. Joe, 
Or I’ll fulnt— sure, I shall. 
Sit down— anyivhttr, where you like, Joe—In that 
cheer, if you choose -Lord, where’s Sal! 
[F. Bret Vurtc > in Overland Mmthly. 
it up in part. I like to lay up a little treas¬ 
ure * where moth and rust doth not corrupt, 
nor thieves break through and steal.’ When 
you and Sara go to see Katy, I will accom¬ 
pany you.” 
The visit was paid, and the wretched girl 
was very lowly in her submission. She 
begged to be allowed to serve them without 
wages, and in the lowest capacity, if she 
could only be released from the vile bondage 
of imprisonment . Red tape must take time 
to unwind its torturous strings. The days 
which needfully elapsed were very bitter to 
poor Katy, but they bore good fruit. She 
learned in the stern school of experience that 
“ the way of the transgressor is hard." The 
goods she had coveted and appropriated for 
those many years were bought at a costly 
price. Her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes 
had lost their brilliancy; and when, after a 
fortnight had passed since her first interview 
with Mrs. Grant, she was again called to 
meet her and Mrs. Benson, they could hard¬ 
ly recognize her. 
“ Indade, an’ iudade; I thought you wud 
niver come. I've counted the minutes an’ 
the hours, and they have moved so slow !” 
When told that the pardon had been ob¬ 
tained, and that she was free, she clasped her 
hands in ecstasy, then bowed down to the 
ground with the piteous cry of “Me Mithcr, 
meMitlmr!” She bad passed beyond her 
recall, and the girl had no relation left on 
earth. Then Mrs. Benson’s womanly heart 
was aroused, and tukiug the girl’s cold hand 
she assured her that her home stood ready 
for her. She would try her once again. 
Katy could hardly comprehend that such a 
comfortable home could await her. 
“ Me, roa’m ? a thafe an’ a liar, as ye called 
me yoursilf!” 
“Yes, Katy; we will make one more 
trial, and 1 will endeavor to do my part 
also—will interest myself in you, and you 
will take care of my household goods.” 
Mrs. Benson did not find her confidence 
misplaced. Katy had been taught the law 
of mourn- and team —mine and t hine—by ex¬ 
perience, the hardest master God gives us, 
GOOD-NATURED PARAGRAPHS 
An Inquiring Yankee. 
A well-known citizen of Hartford, Ct,, 
a few days ago had taken his seat in an af¬ 
ternoon train fur Providence, when a small, 
weazen-faced, elderly uiau, having the ap¬ 
pearance of a well-to-do farmer, came into 
the car, looking for a seat. The gentleman 
good-naturedly made room for him by his 
side, and the old man looked him over from 
head to foot. 
“ Going to Providence?” he said at length. 
“ No, sir,” the stranger answered, politely, 
“ I stop at Andover.” 
“ I want to know ! 1 belong out that way 
myself. Expect to stop long ?” 
44 Only over night, sir.” 
A short pause. 
“ Did you cal’late to put up at the tavern ?” 
“ No, sir; I expect to stop with Mr. Skin¬ 
ner.” 
« What, Job Skinner ? Deacon Job, lives 
in a little brown house on the pike? Or 
mehbc it’s his brother’s ? Was it Tim Skin¬ 
ner, Squire Tim’s where you was going?” 
“ Yes,” said the gentleman, smiling; “it 
was Squire Tim’s.” 
“Dew tell if you are goin’ there to stop 
over night. Any connectic j of lxis’n ?” 
“ No, sir." 
“ Well, now that’s citrus ! The old man 
ain’t got into any trouble nor nothing, has 
he,” lowering his voice ; “ ain’t goin’ to serve 
torus for 
THE RELATIONS BETWEEN HOUSE SER¬ 
VANTS AND THEIR DISTRESSES. 
BY MRS. S. O. .JOHNSON. 
“ Certainly, Job would have lost all his 
boasted patience,” exclaimed Mrs. Benson, 
“ had he beeu compelled to endure the ig- 
aud insolence of the servant of the 
noranee 
period.” 
“I doubt whether he would have been 
thus tried,” replied her cousin, Mrs. Grant; 
“ he was master of hundreds of servants, 
and kept the peace with all.” 
“ Yes, but they were of a different kind 
from these unbearable Celts. I went into 
my kitchen this morning, determined to 
commence a new regime, to look into every 
closet, drawer, nook and corner; and what 
a sight was there! I was amazed and 
frightened at the work of destruction which 
Maggie Inis accomplished iu two months. 
Not a whole towel, not a holder, hardly a 
whole dish! Confusion reigned supreme! 
Chaos was everywhere! I sat down utterly 
disgusted, and expressed my feelings to the 
piece of humanity who stood defiant before 
me. I can’t relate her impudence. 1 paid 
her her wages and dismissed her on the spot, 
and here 1 am! Nannie is putting the fiahy 
to sleep, and we have worried through the 
day somehow ; but I beg Mr. Benson to find 
board somewhere and rent the house. I 
cannot endure the filth and impudence of 
this class of pei’sons." And poor Mrs. Ben¬ 
son drew a long sigh, and pressed her hands 
to her aching head. 
" 1 do pity you, dear," replied Mrs. Grant, 
“ but were you not a little to blame for the 
girl’s faults? Had you watched her from 
the commencement of her service, she could 
not have done so much damage.” 
“ Damage!” echoed Mrs. Benson; “twen¬ 
ty-five dollars will not replace the destruc¬ 
tion she has produced among my household 
goods. You are a Job's comforter, Fanny. 
I did think that you would console and 
sympathize with me. I have paid that girl 
three dollars a week to burn, break and ruin 
all she could lay her hands on.” 
“We do not suffer for the need of trained 
servants in this country; every one sees the 
ills committed by entrusting the household 
affairs to incapable bands, and no one pro¬ 
vides a remedy. In Germany all servants 
pass through an apprenticeship before they 
How to L'»e a Corkscrew. 
A genlal rector of a village parish in Min¬ 
nesota found it difficult to get his salary 
promptly. Latterly it was much behind. 
Going to one of his delinquent parishioners 
in the hardware trade, he looked over all his 
stock of corkscrews very fastidiously, seek¬ 
ing a large one of peculiar strength and size. 
To the inquiry, “ What do you want of such 
a thing, anyhow ?” the answer came, “ My 
dear sit', I want a corkscrew that can draw 
my salary!” The payments are coming in 
Emily Faithful attended a working- 
men’s meeting in London recentlj', and when 
some workingmen declared that their wives 
did not appreciate a man's studying all the 
evening in a club reading-room, she put a 
new idea into their heads by advising that 
said wives should be allowed to partake in 
the benefits of the reading-room. 
