incumbents of her office in this, that she took an interest in
reading, and generally dipped into the morning paper before it found
its way up stairs. To this, of course, I had no objection, but was
rather pleased to see it. Time, however, which proves all things,
showed my cook to be rather too literary in her inclinations. I
often found her reading, when it was but reasonable for me to expect
that she would be working; and overdone or burnt dishes occasionally
marked the degree in which her mind was absorbed in her literary
pleasures, which I discovered in time, were not of the highest
order-such books as the “Mysteries of Paris” furnishing the aliment
that fed her imagination.
“Jane,” said my husband to me one morning, as he was about leaving
the house, “I believe I must invite my old friend Green to dine with
me to-day. He will leave the city to-morrow, and I may not have the
pleasure of a social hour with him again for years. Besides, I want
to introduce him to you. We were intimate as young men, and much
attached to each other. I would like you to know him.”
“Invite him, by all means,” was my reply.
“I will send home a turkey from market,” said Mr. Smith, as he stood
holding on to the open door. “Tell Kitty to cook it just right. Mrs.
Green, I am told, is a first-rate housekeeper, and I feel like
showing you off to the best advantage.”
“Don’t look for too much,” I replied, smiling, “lest you be
disappointed.”
Mr. Smith went away, and I walked back to the kitchen door to say a
word to Kitty. As I looked in, the sound of my feet on the floor
caused her to start. She was standing near a window, and at my
appearance she hurriedly concealed something under her apron.
“Kitty,” said I, “we are to have company to dine with us to-day. Mr.
Smith will send home a turkey, which you must dress and cook in the
best manner. I will be down during the morning to make some lemon
puddings. Be sure to have a good fire in the range, and see that all
the drafts are clear.”
Kitty promised that every thing should be right, and I went up
stairs. In due time the marketing came home. About eleven o’clock I
repaired to the kitchen, and, much to my surprise, found all in
disorder.
“What in the world have you been doing all the morning?” said I,
feeling a little fretted.
Kitty excused herself good naturedly, and commenced bustling about
to put things to rights, while I got flour and other articles
necessary for my purpose, and went to work at my lemon puddings,
which were, in due time, ready for the oven. Giving all necessary
directions as to their baking, and charging Kitty to be sure to have
every thing on the table precisely at our usual hour for dining, I
went up into the nursery to look after the children, and to see
about other matters requiring my attention.
Time passed on until, to my surprise, I heard the clock strike one.
I had yet to dress for dinner.
