The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1881-07-07
THE LADIES' STRIKE.
By George Armstrong.

II hired meself to yez ma am, to do your
chamber work, ma am, and not the waitin'
'Tisn't my place to tend the doors, ma'am,
and answer bells, ma'am; and it's the last
time I'll do it, ma'am."
"The new gir-r-l, ma'am!"
Bridget fiounced out, and I raised my
self wearlly on the sofa, where had sunk
down utterly exhausted, both in mind and
body, to receive the new gir-r-l.''
My sister Annie had fished up this treas
ure from the street intelligence Office,
where they had bestowed upon her the
highest recommendations; but her appear
ance was, to say the least, unpromising
Squint eyes, pug nose, and freckles
innumerable, are not beautiful, but they are
endurable; but add to these greasy and
torn aounced frock, an autrociously dirty,
beribboned, befouced and generally bebiz-
ened hat and a cotton-velvet nantllla, and
you need not wonder that I, who am true
woman, aud judge much from appear
ances, felt my heart sink within me.
Somewhat to my surprise, my interesting
visitor opened the conversation.
Have you been long without a girl,
ma'am?"
"A few days" e
aS'pose there'll be considerable to clean
up, them"
sat actually dumb with establishment.
Have you a carpet on your kitchen?"
mo; oil CLOTH "
"Hua:! How many in your family,
ma'am?"
Five"
"Well, I'll wait on the table and the door;
but shat wash no dishes-that the
cooks place nor wash up halls and sweep
doorsteps; you must get a Waterman for
that. And 1 don't want to be called on to
run no errands, nor black no boots, nor
help round the house. My wages is eight
dollars the month, 'ma'am; and I want
Saturday for visitin' night, and Wednes
day for company night. and every other
Sunday for goin' out, ma'am."
"Indeed," I said, reused at last into
something like life, I'm afraid should
not be able to suit you; you are too part-c
uiar."
aSure, ma'am,' said the "gir-r-r-l,"
and if it's my character you mean. have
| got the best of recommen dations, and have
lived in the best families in Ameriky,
ma'am- where they keep gardiner, and
| girls, Fam, and never looked or axed
were things wentto, ma Fam.
"That will do. interrupted. You may
go; you won't suit me; and I'm sure could
never suit you"
I sank back on the sofa and resumed m,
reading; and the cotton velvet mantilla ant
beribboned bonnet took itself off.
could have cried with yexation. Three
days without cook or waiter, and Freder-
lex Alphonso grumbling about burnt beef
steak and muddy coffee. and Bridget in tn
last stage of sulky INSTRUMENTATION.
The book held in my hand was low
tale. ending, Of course, in marriage, ant
wisely, / thought, for if girls could bu
dream of the ranges that wouldn't burn AM
the bread that wouldn't rise. and the ser
wants that wouldn't do what it wasn't thei
place to do, and the husbands that wouldn'
be satisfied, they would think twice befor
they fell in love with well oiled mustach
and neat necktie, and promised to love
honor and obey it without knowing how t
make pies and roast the meat that was t
keep it in good humor.
Bridget again, more beigerent than eve1
Mrs. Faircleugh, ma'am!'
Mrs. Faircleugh was mild, faded-look
ing woman. We were schoolmates togeth
er, and / remember her, fair, fat an
blooming as a rose. She was wild, sauc
/ girl, but she is subdued enough now,
Can you tell me where can find
j cook was her salutation. We have bee
) obliged to discharge Mary. She drank
! that extent that We were never quite SUI
whether we should get our dinner or TN
3 her lying in the sink or across the tub
. The way the butter and sugar went VIZ
l dreadful, too. John says we have use
enough this month to support three moo
) crate sized families, and that she must kno
: something about it, And now she's ham