Some dozen years ago, my family being absent in a distant part of the country, and my business detaining me in London, I remained in my own house with three servants on board wages.I used only to breakfast at home; and future ages will be interested to know that this meal used to consist, at that period, of tea, a penny roll, a pat of butter, and, perhaps, an egg.My weekly bill used invariably to be about fifty shillings; so that, as I never dined in the house, you see, my breakfast, consisting of the delicacies before mentioned, cost about seven shillings and threepence per diem.Imust, therefore, have consumed daily--
s.d.
A quarter of a pound of tea (say) 1 3
A penny roll (say)
1 0
One pound of butter (say)
1 3
One pound of lump sugar
1 0
A new-laid egg
2 9
Which is the only possible way I have for making out the sum.
Well, I fell ill while under this regimen, and had an illness which, but for a certain doctor, who was brought to me by a certain kind friend I had in those days, would, I think, have prevented the possibility of my telling this interesting anecdote now a dozen years after.Don't be frightened, my dear madam; it is not a horrid, sentimental account of a malady you are coming to--only a question of grocery.This illness, I say, lasted some seventeen days, during which the servants were admirably attentive and kind;and poor John, especially, was up at all hours, watching night after night--amiable, cheerful, untiring, respectful, the very best of Johns and nurses.
Twice or thrice in the seventeen days I may have had a glass of eau sucree--say a dozen glasses of eau sucree--certainly not more.
Well, this admirable, watchful, cheerful, tender, affectionate John brought me in a little bill for seventeen pounds of sugar consumed during the illness--"Often 'ad sugar and water; always was a callin'
for it," says John, wagging his head quite gravely.You are dead, years and years ago, poor John--so patient, so friendly, so kind, so cheerful to the invalid in the fever.But confess, now, wherever you are, that seventeen pounds of sugar to make six glasses of eau sucree was a LITTLE too strong, wasn't it, John? Ah, how frankly, how trustily, how bravely he lied, poor John! One evening, being at Brighton, in the convalescence, I remember John's step was unsteady, his voice thick, his laugh queer--and having some quinine to give me, John brought the glass to me--not to my mouth, but struck me with it pretty smartly in the eye, which was not the way in which Dr.Elliotson had intended his prescription should be taken.
Turning that eye upon him, I ventured to hint that my attendant had been drinking.Drinking! I never was more humiliated at the thought of my own injustice than at John's reply."Drinking! Sulp me! I have had only one pint of beer with my dinner at one o'clock!"--and he retreats, holding on by a chair.These are fibs, you see, appertaining to the situation.John is drunk."SULP him, he has only had an 'alf-pint of beer with his dinner six hours ago;"and none of his fellow-servants will say other wise.Polly is smuggled on board ship.Who tells the lieutenant when he comes his rounds? Boys are playing cards in the bedroom.The outlying fag announces master coming--out go candles--cards popped into bed--boys sound asleep.Who had that light in the dormitory? Law bless you!
the poor dear innocents are every one snoring.Every one snoring, and every snore is a lie told through the nose! Suppose one of your boys or mine is engaged in that awful crime, are we going to break our hearts about it? Come, come.We pull a long face, waggle a grave head, and chuckle within our waistcoats.
Between me and those fellow-creatures of mine who are sitting in the room below, how strange and wonderful is the partition! We meet at every hour of the daylight, and are indebted to each other for a hundred offices of duty and comfort of life; and we live together for years, and don't know each other.John's voice to me is quite different from John's voice when it addresses his mates below.If Imet Hannah in the street with a bonnet on, I doubt whether I should know her.And all these good people with whom I may live for years and years, have cares, interests, dear friends and relatives, mayhap schemes, passions, longing hopes, tragedies of their own, from which a carpet and a few planks and beams utterly separate me.When we were at the seaside, and poor Ellen used to look so pale, and run after the postman's bell, and seize a letter in a great scrawling hand, and read it, and cry in a corner, how should we know that the poor little thing's heart was breaking? She fetched the water, and she smoothed the ribbons, and she laid out the dresses, and brought the early cup of tea in the morning, just as if she had had no cares to keep her awake.Henry (who lived out of the house) was the servant of a friend of mine who lived in chambers.There was a dinner one day, and Harry waited all through the dinner.The champagne was properly iced, the dinner was excellently served;every guest was attended to; the dinner disappeared; the dessert was set; the claret was in perfect order, carefully decanted, and more ready.And then Henry said, "If you please, sir, may I go home?"He had received word that his house was on fire; and, having seen through his dinner, he wished to go and look after his children, and little sticks of furniture.Why, such a man's livery is a uniform of honor.The crest on his button is a badge of bravery.
