University of Virginia Library

Then, next job was, the master come—
My missis' master: for his home
Was somewheers else; but now an' then
He'd come to see the gentlemen
An' spy how things was getting on.
My word, he was a cunning mon!
But I should say (although it's true
I dunno much—no more do you),
Still, I should reckon by his talk,
An' by his boots an' by his walk,
He wasna born a gentleman.
Aye, I can tell 'em, that I can,
Wi' waiting on 'em toe to heel
An' living with 'em such a deal!
He come o' Saturday, worse luck,
When I was in the thick o' muck,
Black as a tinker; cleaning boots
An' grates, an' helping at the shoots
Among the coalmen, getting coals
Into the cellar. All the holes
Was smother'd up an' black wi' dust;
An' I was in it, an' the wust,
'Cause I had got the roughest trade:
I was below, an' wi' my spade
I took an' levell'd all the crown,
Fast as them coals come lumbering down.
I sweated in that blessed place
A good half-hour; an' eh, my face
How black it was! an' in my eyes,
An' up my nose, the coal-dust flies
As I could hardly breathe for it.
I'd got just tired above a bit,
An' glad enough to hear 'em shout
Down the big shoot, at me, “All's out!”—
Thinks I, I'll go an' wash mysel,
At least my face, for fear the bell
Should ring for me to go upstairs.
But, all at once, there comes an' stares
A big man like a officer;
“Hollo!” says he, an' I says “Sir?”
An' wonder'd at him, what he meant.
Right to the kitchen then he went,
An' Mrs. Codd come out to him
A-trembling-like in every limb.
Thinks I, I lay it's missis' master!
An' I must say, my heart beat faster
To think o' what a fright I look'd.
Our dinner wasna' hardly cook'd,
An' all the place was in a mess;
But he walk'd in, an' says, “Oh yes,
Yes, Mrs. Codd, I'm come to see
If you've got any news for me.
But what's yon dirty creature theer,”
Says he (for I was standing near),
“As looks like any chimney-sweep?”
“Lor, sir, it's just the maid we keep,”
Says missis, “for to clean an' scrub,
An' help me at the washing-tub,
An' wait upstairs; an' now, poor soul!
Her's getting in a load o' coal,
Or was, a bit sin'.” “Aye,” he says,
“You want a maid, a many ways;
But this one seems a queerish figure;
A thorough picter of a nigger!
Just tell her for to come inside,
As I may see her.” Well, I tried
To keep mysel behind the door,
So as he shouldna see no more
Nor I could help, o' what I was;
But it was all no good. “My lass,”
Says he; “nay, dunna hide thysel;
I want to see what sort o' gell
Is servant in this house o' mine.”
Then Mrs. Codd give me a sign
Behind his back; so I come out
An' show'd mysel—not quite so stout
As I are now, but just as big;
An' staring like a new-stuck pig,
To think as he should see me so.
For I was very black, you know,
An' must ha' look'd uncommon silly,
Standing afore him, willy nilly,
An' fair ashamed. But after all,
I had no need to feel so small:
For honest work is no disgrace,
If it do black your arms an' face.

Well, theer I stood, a-curtseying,
Like any cat afore a king!
The master look'd at me, he did,
He look'd me up an' down, an' hid
The spot o' sunlight with his hand,
An' put his glasses on. “Just stand
More in the light a bit,” he says;
An' so I did. In all my days
I never seed a man like him;
So cunning-looking, an' so grim—
He look'd as if he'd eat you up!
Says he, “Well, here's a pretty pup
For my clean kennel! Housekeeper,
Wherever did you light on her?”

Then Mrs. Codd turn'd gashly pale,
A-telling him a longish tale
Of how the other wench had gone,
An' her to do the work alone,
An' went at last to Texley Fair
An' hired me. I didna care,
So long as I'd not got to speak;
But missis was that nesh an' weak,
An' seem'd so despertly afeard
O' master an' his big black beard,
It made me feel quite sperrited:
An' at the end, he out an' said,
Says he, “The wench is tall an' strong;
But, Mrs. Codd, you did quite wrong
To hire a dirty slut like this is,
An' not tell me, nor yet my missis.”
“Lor, sir,” says she, “you're quite mistook!
As black as ever her may look
Now wi' them coals, her's not a slut;
Just let me send her off, to put
A decent cap an' apron on,
An' wash her, an' you'll say she's one
As has a honest country face,
An' good enough for any place!”
Wi' that her tipp'd me just a wink;
An' off I started to the sink,
All in a hurry an' a worry,
An' set to work in such a flurry
To wash me at the scullery tap;
An' donn'd a tidy muslin cap
An' clean white apron, an' got back
In less than no time. Eh, my Jack
How he'd a jump'd to see the change,
An' kiss'd me for it, too! It's strange,
But this here master didn't, though.
He look'd as he could hardly know
I was the wench he seed afore;
The more he look'd at me, the more
He seem'd to like me not so well,
Now I was got respectable.
“Ho, ho!” says he, “I see your game!
An' Mrs. Codd, you're much to blame:
The girl is not a slut—Why, no,
Only you please to make her so.
You've spoilt a pretty face, I see,
O' purpose for to take in me.
Aye, but you canna do it, then!
There's not one servant-maid in ten
'Ud look as taking an' as nice
As this, nor fetch as good a price
Among them gentlemen o' mine,
If once her was but drest up fine.
Why, now her face is wash'd an' clean,
A better never could be seen
In all the parish, I'll be bound.
An' so, you think to bring me round
To let her stop here, do you, eh?
Thou artful hussey, thou!” says he,
“I'll learn thee how to keep thy place
By blacking o' thy minx's face,
An' coming out a make-believe
Afore thy master to deceive!
I'll learn thee how to smirk an' smile
Wi' lips an' eyes as full o' guile
As eggs is full o' meat!” My word!
I wouldn't o' my own accord
Ha' said a word to him, not I;
But when he spoke a-thatns, why
I couldna help but answer him,
For all he look'd so fierce and grim.
“What, sir!” says I, “d'ye think I care
For gentlemen? D'ye think I are
What you make out? Why no, indeed!
I lay my life you never seed
A harder-working wench nor me,
An' one as always wants to be
Just what her is.” “Hold thy daft tongue,”
Says he; “thou is a deal too young
To start off answering again!
But Mrs. Codd, I tell you plain,
This very day you'll give her warning,
An' pay her off to-morrow morning.”