Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1883-10-02
"Maid-Of- ALI Work. F"

'Maid-Of-alI- Work"
Rachel Ramsey looked very pretty, in
| deed, as she came down the narrow wooden
staircase of the little farm house, that af-
ternoon, dressed in a white muslin dress,
strewn all over with tiny pink rosebuds,
and fresh frill around her neck, tied with
pink ribbon, while her pretty feet were but
toned into new pair of boots, with high,
French heels and her hair was curled in
loose. glossy coils of shining bronze.
"Eh!' said Granny Ramsay, looking up
from her everlasting knitting work, over
which she was half-asleep; ''goin' to church,
hey?"
''It isn't Sunday grandma explained
the girl, laughing and coloring. "Pm 60
ing to the Tower, to see Miss Calhoun.
She has often invited me there-she and
Miss Bell.''
"Pshawv said Granny Ramsay, who was
one of those venerable people privileged to
speak their minds on all occasions; what do
the fine city ladies at the Tower want of a
farmers daughter like you9''
''But, granma, they've invited meF'
"It reminds me-" said grandma, shrewd-
ly, ''of the old story of the iron pot and
the china pot swimming down stream to-
gether; and they didn't nowise suit"
Rachel said no more, but escaped out in
to the shady lane, where the naples were
beginning to turn pale yellow in the first
September frosts.
F'Grandma is always criticising every
body she thought. 81 know the ladies
at the Tower will be glad to see me. Miss
Alice wants to sketch my head for 'Eline,
and Miss Bell asked me to sing duets with
her. She said l had voice like lark.
And perhaps Mir. Harold Haroldson will be
there! For know he often visits at the
house"
And Rachel smiled to herself, as she
crossed the rustic bridge and went through
the woods to the tower, fantastic wooden
cottage with a semi circular front, which
] was left for the summer, the owner thereof
preferred to live in a square brick structure
in the village.
The little side door was open and Rachel
went in. From the left of the passage-way
a door opened into the kitchen, and there,
to her infinite amazement, she saw Miss
Alice Calhoun herself, in an aesthetic dress
of pale sage-green, and roses in her hair,
contemplating a air of decapitated fowls
which lay on the table.
''Miss Alicer' she exclaimed.
els it you, Rachel ?" exclaimed the city
young lady, pouncing on her, as drown
ing man pounces on the nearest floating
straw. 30, never was so glad to see any
body in all my life! These horrid hensl
Bridget has gone away in rage because
presume to find fault with the coffee this
morning, and we have company to dinner,
and haven't an idea how to get the feath-
ers off these creatures. But now that you
are here, everything will be right.
And she took off the big bib-apron, and
stepped back, with a sigh of relief
] Rachel looked perplexed. She had come
| there, not to enact the role of kitchen maid,
but to visit Miss Calhoun, to sit in her
drawing-room and enjoy the conversation
of the guests, and she did not exactly relish
this summary dismissal to the kitchen.
''There is no soup stock" went on Miss
Alice, land salad, and deicet" piece of
| halibut, and with the fowls roasted, and a
pie or pudding, or something which | dare
you can make, we Shall do very nicely
Pm particularly anxious about the dinner,
because we are t, have company. You'll
excuse me now, because l have to dress
And away tripped Miss Alice, selfish and
smiling as ever was Queen .Cleopatra's self.
Poor Rachel! She stood minute in the
hot kitchen, the tears springing to her eyes,
u
She knew all about it. Harold Haroldson
and Mr.. Dallas were to dine there that day,
and she-she was to 5e cook, waitress
maid of-all- work-what siguified it what
she called herself? She remembered what
grandma had said and for once in her life
gave that venerable lady credit for discrim-
ination.
| There was no help for it, however. She
tied on the bib-apron, tucked the curls back
of her ears, and went TO work to prepare
the chickens for the roasting pan, now and
then pauslng to brush away the round bright
tears which rolled down her cheeks.
These young ladies evidently intended to
make her useful. She might have known
that they did, beforehand She could hear
the soft sound of Bell Calhoun S guitar; the
sweet, subdued tinkie of Alice's laughter,
the deep, mOnotonous under-current of
gentlemen's voices, and then she glanced
down at her pretty muslin dress and bows
Of pink ribbon, and began to think that
Miss Calhoun had taken an unfair advan-
tage of her.
If she could only have heard the rapid
and energetic colloquy which transpired
between the two sisters in their dressing
room when first Alcie came up stairs, she
would perhaps have better comprehended
the drift of things.
| "Good newsr' Miss Calhoun had cried,
waving her scented pocket handkerchief in
the air. 'I've got girl in the kitchenr'
| NNop' said Miss Bell, a fair-haired cream
complexioned damsel, with pale-blue eyes
and perpetual smile.
"Rachel Ramsey nodded Alice,
"Came up here, in her best bib and tucker
to spend the day. OF course 1 confscated
her at once"
''The bold, pushing thingr' said Bell
with disdainful gesture.
''She's a deal too pretty to bring into the
drawing-room for Haroldson and Armine
Dallis to flirt with" added Miss Alice,
knowingly. "And l don't see any way
that l could have avoided it if it hadn't
been for those lucky chickens and Bridget's
fortunate fit of temper. Make haste, now.
They'll be here in minute And / know
little Rachel is frst-class cook, for I've
been there to tea.
So the young ladies of the Tower were
enjoying the feast of reason and the flow OF
soul in their cool drawing room, with books,
new gathered roses and blue ribboned gui-
tars, while poor Rachel Ramsay was broil-
ing in the kitchen over peach-tarts and
Neapolitan creams.
She had forgotten her disappointment,
hut artist like she had thrown herself intC