University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.

The night dews were falling chill and heavy when
we crossed the last log-causeway, and saw a dim glimmering
in the distance. The children were getting
horribly cross and sleepy. The unfortunate anchoring
in the black swamp had deranged our plans by about
three hours, and when we reached our destined resting-place,
which was the log-house where I had been so
happy as to make the acquaintance of Miss Irene
Ketchum, and her dignified mamma, the family had
retired to rest, except Mr. Ketchum, who rested without
retiring.

The candle, a long twelve I should judge, was
standing on the table, and wasting rapidly under the
influence of a very long snuff, which reclined upon its
side. Upon the same table, and almost touching the
tall iron candlestick, was a great moppy head; and
this head rested in heavy slumber on the brawny arms
of the master of the house.

“Ketchum! Ketchum!” echoed a shrill voice from
within the pinned-up sheets in one corner, and I might
have thought the woman was setting the dog at us, if I
had not recognized the dulcet-treble of the fair Irene
from the other bed—“Pa, pa, get up, can't you?”

Thus conjured, the master of the mansion tried to
overcome the still potent effects of his evening potations,
enough to understand what was the matter, but
in vain. He could only exclaim, “What the devil's
got into the women?” and down went the head
again.

Mrs. Ketchum had, by this time, exchanged the night
for the day cap, and made herself, otherwise, tolerably
presentable. She said she had supposed we were not
coming, it was so late; (it was just half-past eight,)
and then, like many other poor souls I have known,
tried hard to hide her husband's real difficulty.

“He was so tired!” she said.

How long the next hour seemed! A summer day
in some company I wot of, would not seem half as tedious.
It took all papa's ingenuity, and more than all
mamma's patience to amuse the poor children, till matters
were arranged; but at length the important matter
of supper being in some sort concluded, preparations
were made for “retiracy.”

Up the stick-ladder we all paced “slowly and sadly.”
Miss Irene preceding us with the remnant of the long
twelve, leaving all below in darkness. The aspect of
our lodging-place was rather portentous. Two bed-steads,
which looked as if they might, by no very violent
freak of nature, have grown into their present
form, a good deal of bark being yet upon them,

occupied the end opposite the stairs; and between
them was a window, without either glass or shutter—
that is to say, politeness aside, a square hole in the
house. Three beds spread upon the floor, two chests,
and a spinning-wheel, with reel and swifts, completed
the plenishing of the room. Two of the beds were
already tenanted, as the vibrations of the floor might
have told us without the aid of ears, (people snore incredibly
after ploughing all day,) and the remainder
were at our service. The night air pouring in at the
aperture seemed to me likely to bring death on its dewy
wings, and when I looked up and saw the stars shining
through the crevices in the roof, I thought I might venture
to have the wider rent closed, although I had been
sensible of some ill resulting from the close quarters at
Danforth's So a quilt, that invaluable resource in
the woods, was stuck up before the window, and the
unhinged cover of one of the chests was used as a lid
for the stair-way, for fear the children might fall down.
Sheets served to partition off a “tyring room” round
my bed—an expedient frequently resorted to—and so
dangerous that it is wonderful that so few houses are
burnt down in this country. And thus passed my first
night in Montacute.

I do not remember experiencing, at any time in my
life, a sense of more complete uncomfortableness than
was my lot, on awaking the next morning. It seemed
to arise entirely from my anticipations of the awkward
and tedious inconveniences of our temporary sojourn
at this place, where every thing was so different
from our ideas of comfort, or even decency. But I
have since been convinced, that sleeping in an exhausted

atmosphere, of which those who slept on the
bedsteads felt the effect more sensibly than those who
lay on the floor, had no small agency in producing this
depression of spirits, so unusual with me.

Be this as it may, my troubles, when the children
were to be washed and dressed, became real and tangible
enough; for, however philosophical grown people
may sometimes be under disagreeables consequent
upon a change of habits, children are very epicures, and
will put up with nothing that is unpleasant to them,
without at least making a noise, which I do detest
and dread; though I know mothers ought to “get
used to such things.” I have heard that cels get accustomed
to being skinned, but I doubt the fact.

That morning was the first and the last time I ever
attempted to carry through the ordinary nursery
routine, in a log-hut, without a servant, and with a
skillet for a wash-basin.

The little things did get dressed after a while, however,
and were safely escorted down the stick-ladder,
and it was really a pleasure to see them careering
round the house, rioting in their freedom, and to hear
now and then a merry laugh, awakening the echoes.
Children are the true bijouterie of the woods and wilds.
How weary would my last three years have been, without
the cares and troubles they have brought me!

Our breakfast, of undistinguishable green tea, milk-rising
bread, and salt ham, did not consume much time,
and most fortunately we here found milk for the children,
who of course made out sumptuously. It was
the first time since we left Detroit, that we had been
able to procure more than a small allowance for the tea.

My first care was to inquire where I might be able
to procure a domestic, for I saw plainly I must not expect
any aid from Miss Irene or her younger sister,
who were just such “captive-princess” looking damsels
as Miss Martineau mentions having seen at a country
inn somewhere on her tour.

“Well, I don't know,” said Mrs. Ketchum in reply
to my questions; “there was a young lady here yesterday
that was saying she did n't know but she'd live
out a spell till she'd bought her a new dress.”

“Oh! but I wish to get a girl who will remain with
me; I should not like to change often.”

Mrs. Ketchum smiled rather scornfully at this, and
said there were not many girls about here that cared
to live out long at a time.

My spirits fell at this view of the matter. Some of
my dear theorizing friends in the civilized world had
dissuaded me most earnestly from bringing a maid
with me.

“She would always be discontented and anxious to
return; and you'll find plenty of good farmer's daughters
ready to live with you for the sake of earning a
little money.”

Good souls! how little did they know of Michigan!
I have since that day seen the interior of many a
wretched dwelling, with almost literally nothing in it
but a bed, a chest, and a table; children ragged to the
last degree, and potatoes the only fare; but never yet
saw I one where the daughter was willing to own herself
obliged to live out at service. She would “hire
out” long enough to buy some article of dress perhaps,
or “because our folks have been sick, and want a little

money to pay the doctor,” or for some such special reason;
but never as a regular calling, or with an acknowledgment
of inferior station.

This state of things appalled me at first; but I have
learned a better philosophy since. I find no difficulty
now in getting such aid as I require, and but little in
retaining it as long as I wish, though there is always
a desire of making an occasional display of independence.
Since living with one for wages is considered
by common consent a favour, I take it as a favour;
and, this point once conceded, all goes well. Perhaps
I have been peculiarly fortunate; but certainly with
one or two exceptions, I have little or nothing to complain
of on this essential point of domestic comfort.

To be sure, I had one damsel who crammed herself
almost to suffocation with sweatmeats and other things
which she esteemed very nice; and ate up her own
pies and cake, to the exclusion of those for whom they
were intended; who would put her head in at a door,
with—“Miss Clavers, did you holler? I thought I
heered a yell.”

And another who was highly offended, because room
was not made for her at table with guests from the city,
and that her company was not requested for tea-visits.
And this latter high-born damsel sent in from the
kitchen a circumstantial account in writing, of the instances
wherein she considered herself aggrieved; well
written it was too, and expressed with much naïveté,
and abundant respect. I answered it in the way which
“turneth away wrath.” Yet it was not long before this
fiery spirit was aroused again, and I was forced to part
with my country belle. But these instances are not

very tremendous even to the city habits I brought
with me; and I cannot say I regret having been
obliged to relinquish what was, after all, rather a silly
sort of pride. But bless me! how I get before my
story! I viewed the matter very differently when I
was at Ketchum's. My philosophy was of slow
growth.

On reflection, it was thought best not to add another
sleeper to the loft, and I concluded to wait on myself
and the children while we remained at Ketchum's,
which we hoped would be but for a day or two. I can
only say, I contrived to simplify the matter very much,
when I had no one to depend on but myself. The
children had dirty faces, and aprons which would have
effected their total exclusion from genteel society more
than half the time; and I was happy to encourage the
closest intimacy between them and the calves and
chickens, in order to gain some peace within doors.
Mrs. Ketchum certainly had her own troubles during
our sojourn under her leaky roof; for the two races
commingled not without loud and long effervescence,
threatening at times nothing short of a Kilkenny cat
battle, ending in mutual extermination.

My office, on these occasions, was an humble imitation
of the plan of the celestials in ancient times; to
snatch away the combatant in whom I was most interested,
and then to secrete him for a while, using as a
desert island one of the beds in the loft, where the unfortunate
had to dree a weary penance, and generally
came down quite tame.