University of Virginia Library

Well, theer I lived, a pretty while;
An' they did nothing, only smile
An' nod at me, a time or two,
Like master do to me an' you,
If chance I met 'em in the street.
But mostly I was at their feet,
Cleaning the passage or the yard;
An' when they seed me work that hard,
A-scrubbing in the dirt an' sludge
An' looking such a reg'lar drudge,
They'd say, “Well, Susan, here you are—
As black as ever, I declare!”
An' sometimes, when I had to crawl
Across the doorway in the hall,
They'd come behind, a-going out,
An' ax me what I was about;
So then, I rests upon my hands
An' looks up at him wheer he stands,
An' says, “The emest way 'ud be
To please, sir, just step over me;”
An' so he always did, ye see.
But once, when none on 'em was in
(By what I thought), for all their din
O' music an' o' pleasuring
Was quiet, I went up to bring
The parlour scuttle full o' coals;
An' bless us! theer was Mr. Knowles,
A-sitting in his easy-chair!
I jump'd, an' he begun to stare
At me, an' wonder what I mean'd;
For I was wash'd an' welly clean'd,
By reason it was evening-time;
An' all the sweat an' dust an' grime
Was off my face; my sleeves was down,
An' I'd got on a tidy gown,
Clean apron, an' a clean white cap:
For why, ye see, I'd got a chap,
An' I was smarten'd up for him.
But Mr. Knowles look'd just as grim,
An' says, “Hollo, girl! Is it you?”
An' axes what I want to do;
An' then he ups, an' says again,
“Why, Susan, now I see you plain—
My lass, wherever have you been?
Your pretty face is sweet an' clean,
An' you're as nice as nice can be;
By Jove!” he says, “I'd no idee
As you could ever look so well!
My dear, you're quite a kitchen belle,”
Says he. Of coorse I couldna tell,
Nor didna care not one brass farden,
What that meant; but I ax'd his parden
For coming in like unbeknown,
An' catching of him all alone,
An' never knock'd; an' “Sir,” says I,
(You see, I spoke respectfully,
An' yet I scarce could stand his cheek,
But seem'd like bounden for to speak),
“Sir, if the kitchen bell did ring,
As you say, it's a curous thing
I never heerd it!” Well—wi' that,
He laugh'd right out! I tell thee what,
Betsy, I felt as mad as mad,
To think o' what a tongue he had
For fooling of such folks as us!
But still, I never made no fuss,
Only back'd out an' runn'd away,
For all he call'd to me to stay.