After the washing operations had been brought to a more or less successful ending, there came the yeast making and the baking, followed by the brewing of sugar beer, preserves had to be made, bacon cured, all sorts of things to be done, besides the daily duties of scrubbing and cleaning, and cooking at all hours for stray visitors or "swaggers." But I am overcome with contrition at perceiving into what a digression I have wandered; having strayed from my maids' rooms to their duties.
They arrived as usual on a dray late in the evening, tired and wearied enough, poor souls.

In those early days I had not yet plucked up courage to try my hand in the kitchen, and our meals had been left to the charge of F----, who, whatever he may be in other relations of life, is a vile cook; and our good-natured cadet Mr.U----, who was exceedingly willing, but profoundly ignorant of the elements of cookery.

For fear of being tempted into another digression, I will briefly state that during that week I lived in a chronic state of hunger and heartburn, and sought forgetfulness from repeated attacks of indigestion, by decorating my servants' rooms.

They opened into each other, and it would have been hard to find two prettier little nests.

Each had its shining brass bedstead with chintz hangings, its muslin-draped toilette table, and its daintily curtained window, besides a pretty carpet.