SHORT STORY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16780, 8 July 1922, Page 3

SHORT STORY.

THE t ADY HELP ffiSCHINE, SOLVING THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 'Written for uw " Star " by MBS J£. BAiZEKX.) I'a invent,ns a lady-help mnchineva affair that is made of metal and runs ,bout tour house on tiny rubber rheols—-you can wind her up ro go amt weep the dining-room carpet at _ a.m. r you wish, and— I’ve really got nev 10 v roach the top shelf of the dresser and throw a dish. of -.. ter down the sink witih her long iron u; m- >- • &' like a clock with difi-rom sign-places 5, Get the Bvoaktnet. Wash the Kitchen Floor. Peel Lie Potatoes Shake the Mats- etc., etc., on it. and a key to wind them all up to ro oh at the proper tr.no. Ot conise »h < from complete yet- she threw a bucket of water over me yesterday tnstean •> wiping down the kitchen tao.t . she plague's my brain power considerably tTving to gel all lier angles >•. and" working rigid, hut she s going to be worth while—vr y popular indeed. I should say. Anyhow she can't get cheeky and give notice, and there you have the kevnote to tlic whole situation. I no bother we’ve had in our home with those other real li e girls,, makes the worry I have with my lady-help machine seem but a m; til- It was those girls who forced me to begin the new, Gum help iu tlm or-t plan desperation must surely be tlm father of invention if necessity is the mother —and it is they who constantly supply me with an incentive to go on with it. even when she throws the onion peelings on too HalLcarpet instead of the rubbishheap- And I've only to close my eyes tor a moment, think of a few of our painful experiences, as for instance, lolanthe do Vo re. then on again I go feverishly fixing small bolti- anci screws with all the iervour 01 a ■madman- But let me tell you about iolanthe and a few of the others -then you will understand i .iy posi. ion better even if vou will not pity me. Well. lolanthe de Vere was a tall, thin person who said lier father was a frenchman and her mother an English actress. lolanthe herself was by some strange chance a cook. She had worked for some of the “ best families at Home ” and her condescension in coming to work for us—not even small beer aristocrats—was an education in the dignity line well worth coming a .journey from the South Pole to see. The weapon she used against us was Disdain. She (had been used to a better class of people— a reproach we were powerless to remedy. She was shocked at tho smallness of our kitchen and larders—but I wanted to find out what sort of cook she was and whether she'd -itay with us before I thought of enlarging the premises. She nearly fainted when Dolly admitted that we had no pestle to mortar things up with, and she said she couldn't get along without one, so I sent one home. Dolly (my wifef took it out to her as soon as it arrived, but it wasn't anything like as good as the ones she’d been used to; still she’d try to make it do. Remembering how scarce help of any kind was, wo kept on trying to appease lolanthe’s lowered dignity in every conceivable way by trying to get together all the things she’d been used to. The chops were cold morning and Tolanthe said it we only had patent heaters our food would always be hot. Expensive articles ! But most of the things Tolan. the had been used to were expensive, else she wouldn't have allowed herself to get used to them in the first place A dish of burnt stew meant having to get “double” saucenans the next day. lolanthe had never made, a stew in a single pot all her life, and she never before had worked for people w ho expected her to do so. Anyhow we ought to have aluminium pots—they were the correct things. A\ e were without sugar-sifters and we had no iron gem-cookers. I got the sifters easily enough, but I had a long search for the other things. And the very' day that T had had my tiresome gem-hunt through the city, Dolly met me on the return journey with a fresh demand from Miss de Vere. She wanted a marble slab in stead of a common old wood board slab for rolling pastry on. I told Dolly to tell her that I had bought up ail the lumber that 1 intended buying for our kitchen just at present, and I added in desperation, 4 'lf eho can’t do without a marble slab. Jet her go and borrow somebody’s tombstone.” A week afterwards lolanthe left us on account of her health having become affected through sleeping and working in such a confined space for six weeks. Our next cook was young, careless and gay. Her name was Victoria Martin; and her mode of kitchen warfare was carried on under an alarming cover of cheerful indifference. This proved harder to fight against though not so expensive as lolanthe’s disdain. Victoria was a true colonial of the very first water, and she laughed and slanged away in great spirits from morning till night. She said : “ That’s right,” “Too true,” and “Too honest,” to almost any remark you might make. My wife remarked that Victoria looked rather young for a cook: “ That’s right,” said Victoria. Dolly tried her again. “ But I suppose you are more than twenty?” “ Too true,” giggled Victoria. Dolly shifted her guns, so to speak “ You surely must have commenced cooking at a very early age, though ?” “ Too honest,” came the ready a nswer. ’This was very foreboding of course, but Dolly engaged her all the same, partly because she had no choice in the matter, young Victoria being the only one who had answered our call that day. “ This is the kitchen; it is rather -mall, but I hope you will like it,” said my wife. Victoria’s dancing, merry eyes, took in a hasty, careless survey of the room ; then she said: “ It’ll suit mine all right.” Dolly gave strict orders to Nurse Blagney to keep Benjy-boy os far away from Victoria’s speech ae possible, and then sho eet herself the task of trying to prut up gracefully with our slangy help, whose twang and gaiety proved but a mere circumstance by the side of her awful cooking. She began her performance at our place by sending in under-done fish! Dolly raaig for Julia i<» come and

! take it away. Our house-parlour-maid j trotted in. | “ Tell Victoria this fish isn’t cooked J and we’ll have the. roast- in at once, i d vt.3. p?e&£« JUllVl. - ” I ”-ili ihr wed and went. off. AYc waft - 1 ed. Dolly entertained me (during ) about a seven minute’s interval) with ‘ some of Benjy-boy’s new wonderosities ! —then wo looked at each other grave - I ** T ‘ “ I wonder what has happened,” said I. My wife rose. f ‘ I’ll go and see.” she said. Presently she returned with a worryI look in her eyes. i “ You’d never in a. thousand years j guess what Victoria is doing. “ Well,” she- added, “ she's frying slices from the roast, because it wasn't cooked either.” 4 “Good Lord! whatever next?” was all I could say. “ How fortunate that the Pearsons couldn’t come to 1; for dinner tonight.” Doll} remarked. “ Anyhow, 1 want mine,” T growled. “ Perhaps she doesn’t understand the stove yet, and she might bo feeling a li 1 tie ne rvons besides. 5 ' “ Why, did she seem at all nervous?” I scorned. Dolly frowned a little then laughed outright. Well, no, she didn’t. But she said she was sorry that she had gone and crooked the dinner on us—-too honest she was.” The next morning we had burnt, lumpy porridge, and spoiled eggs for breakfast—T don’t know what for lunch, I had mine in town—and for dinner we had lukewarm soup, greasy stew, half-raw rice pudding, and some really excellent cheese straws. In fact Victoria made the best cheese straws I ever tasted, but, as we couldn’t possibly live on them alone, and Victoria - couldn’t possibly cook anything else so’s you could eat it. she had to go—too time sho had. Thinking there may be something in a physical type—(A ictoria, lolanthe and a. couple others whom J will nob mention, were of the young and slim type) I advised my wife to get an old, plump, plain one, when she set out next morning on a registry office tour of the city. And that’s why sue chose Martha Smith from all the other ladies who had been presented to her. Certainly Martha was unlike \ ietoria and Tolanthe as possible—but s r . was horribly near-sighted as wellHie poor old soul should, properly; speaking, have, been in some institution for the aged and alflicted—instead of thumping around our kitchen, putting currants in our soup because she could 11 t distinguish them from peas I hero was notrung wrong though, with the idea that she had been a good cook in her day; for even then, when it was long past her day, and when sho managed accidentally to get the right ingredients together, sort out salt from sugar, rice from barley, soap from butter, etc. etc., she could produce a very palatable meal. So good, indeed, that we decided she was worth keeping. Dolly, therefore, went to an awful lot of bother to fix things up in the larders and kitchen, so’s Martha couldn’t possibly make a mistake. She put large printed, black and white posters, notifying their contents, on every jar, bin. tin or canister in the place. And after slic’d worked hard for three days, got- all the signboards hoisted and everything ship-shape, she took Martha into her confidence, and told her what it was ail done for.

Martha, stood a, moment in the kitchen doorway, and filled it, blinking confusedly. There was an absence of celerity in all Martha’s movements, and she was therefore slow in the matter of waking up to things. “Hi vondered vat ye was doin’ liall that degradin’ vor,” she said at last, heavily. “ But hit’s no use to me Missus, hi can’d read,” she added, and she .shook with mirth in all her vast proportions at Dolly’s chagrin. We continued to put up with the well-meaning old soul for a few weeks, although iftP'was a daily nerve-racking ordeal, never being quite sure what one was about to eat or of wliat one had already eaten. But one day she sent in some pieces of dishclout friend in the batter with the fish. Doily hated having to do it-, but when Martha finally grasped that she was being fired she blinked good naturedly at Dolly, and had immediate compassion on her. “ Hit’s awdritd, Missus,” she soothed, “Hi got drew maddicks bin me ’ead, hanyways, and I bedder go back ’orabe ha gain. Hi live wiv me son’d an hi ’ad a bid of a tift wiv ee’s wife, but wes’ll ged hon betdder now hi’re showed ’er what hi can do.” So poor old Martha waddled away, and we got Myrtle, a tall, angular lady, with red hair and sharp brown eyes. Sho had no references or diplomas of any sort, which seemed strange, for a woman who claimed the honour of having once cooked a dinner for the Governor, when she was working at the Alfonso de Morgan’s. But all the same, Myrtle was a pearl among cooks, and I bet anything that his Excellency dined well on that occasion. You’d never have guessed to look at Myrtle that she had the soul of an artist, but she had. And she had that rare combination of gifts which go t o the malting of a truly artistic chef—imagination, invention, concentration and application. Very strongly developed they were, too. The dinners we had! Nobody had the least hope of getting me to stay in town for lunch or dinner during those three wonderful weeks when Myrtle was gracing our kitchen boards. Our life, indeed, for that time was like a page out of the “ Arabian Nights ” in its dazzling splendour. I even put my ladyhelp machine out- of sight—but a kindly Fate held my hand in time from destroying her—yet I am sure no better compliment was ever paid to Myrtle or any other cook than that. Then in a moment of wild enthusiasm wo asked the Archers to dinner. The Archers are great nobs, of ancient family, elevated rank, and all that sort of thing, and we felt like doing a little showing off for once in a way, when we could safely, through our accomplished one. Well. I remember that they came along all right, but from the moment after their arrival my mind refuses to piece together, sanely, the awful events which followed upon each other like a gruesome nightmare, until I came to my senses again lying on the sitting-room sofa, saturated with a mixture of eau de cologne and Dolly’s tears. ” The doctor will soon be here, darling,” she whispered in my ear. /4 Have a drop of this, old chap,” said Archer. Then I saw blood on my shirt, and I remembered Myrtle. “ Where is she?” I gasped. {t The policemen have taken her away, dear,” my wife quickly reassured me. Yes, reader, dear. Myrtle had knocked me out! Our idol, alas! had feet

of clay after all. She had contracted a. habit, of getting mad drunk every fourth week ul time and her day for a flourish was up at the moment vc inv:.oft the Archers. Julia, had terrified ua b\ running into our midst with a blooding mouth, and a cry for protection Myrtle wns throwing things at her! I wont to the. kitchen, stopped a flying lump <>f coal with ni\ head ! But 1 think I’ve produced enough evidence to justify xnv action in trying to make a ludv-help machine now, haven’t IP'