Paste Jewels Part 11

"No; that was her mother's brother, he got well. This is another person entirely."

"Naturally," snapped Thaddeus. "But next time we get a cook let's have one whose relatives are all dead, or in the old country, where they can't be reached. I'm tired of this business."

"Well, you shouldn't be cross with me about it, Thad," said Bessie, with a teary look in her eyes. "I have to put up with a great deal more of it than you have, only you never know of it. Why, I've cooked one-half of my own luncheons in the last month."

"And the dinners, too, I'll wager," growled Thaddeus.

"No; she's always got home for dinner heretofore."

"Well, we'll keep a record-book for her, too, then. And we'll be generous with her. We'll allow her just as I was allowed in college--twenty-five per cent. in cuts. If she has twenty-five and a fifth per cent., she goes."

"I don't think I understand," said Bessie.

"Well, we'll put it this way: There are thirty days in a month.

That means ninety meals a month. If she cooks sixty-seven and a half of them she can stay; if she fails to cook the other twenty-two and a half she can stay; but woe be unto her if she slips up by even so little as a millionth part of the sixty-eighth!"

"I don't see how you can manage the half part of it."

"We'll leave that to her," said Thaddeus, firmly; "and, what is more, we'll put John and Mary on the same basis, and Dennis we won't have on any basis at all. A man who will take advantage of his brother's absence at a wake to black the shoes of that brother's only employer with stove-polish is not the kind of a man I want to have around."

"It will be a very good plan," said Bessie, "for all except Mary.

Her absences she cannot well avoid. She has to go to church."

"How many times a week does she have to go?" queried Thaddeus.

"She is required to go to confession."

"Well, let her reform, and then she'll have nothing to go to confession for. I don't believe that's where she goes, either. I notice that one-half those evenings she takes off, permitting me to mind the front door, and enabling us both to acquire proficiency in the art of helping ourselves at dinner, there's a fireman's ball or a policeman's hop or a letter-carriers' theatre party going on somewhere in the county, and it's my belief the worshipping she does on these occasions is at the shrine of Terpsich.o.r.e or that of Melpomene, which is a heathen custom and not to be tolerated here.

If she's so fond of living in church we can quote to her Hamlet's advice to Ophelia--'Get thee to a nunnery!' Why, Bess, I was mortified to death the other night when Bradley dined here, he's all the time bragging about his menagerie, and I tried to bluff him out and make him believe we were waited on by angels in disguise, and you know what happened. He came, saw, and I was regularly knocked out. You let us in; we waited on ourselves; cook had prepared the seven-o'clock dinner at five to give her a chance to go to the hospital to see her brother-in-law with the measles; John had one of his Central-African fires on, and Bradley's laughing about it yet."

"Mr. Bradley was very disagreeable the other night, anyhow," sniffed Bessie. "He acted as if he were camping out!"

"Well, I can't honestly say I blame him for that," retorted Thaddeus. "It only needed a balsam bed and a hole in the roof to let the rain in on him to complete the illusion."

Finally, December came, and the tendencies of absenteeism on the part of the servants showed no signs of abatement. They were remonstrated with, but it made no difference. They didn't go out, they declared, because they wanted to, but because they had to.

Cook couldn't let her relatives go unattended. Mary's religious scruples simply dragged her out of the house, try as she would to stay in; and as for John, as long as Dennis was on hand to take his place he couldn't see why Mr. Perkins was dissatisfied. To tell the truth, John had recently imbibed some more or less capitalistic--or anticapitalistic--doctrines, and he was quite incapable of understanding why, if a street-contractor, for instance, was permitted by the laws of the land to sublet the work for which he had contracted, he, John, should not be permitted to sublet his contract to Dennis, piecemeal, or even as a whole, if he saw fit to do so.

Thaddeus, seeing that Bessie was very much upset by the condition of affairs, had said little about it since Thanksgiving Day, when he had said about as much as the subject warranted after a six-course dinner had been hurried through in one hour, two courses having been omitted that Bridget might catch the train leaving for New York at 3.10. Nor would he have said anything further than the final words of dismissal had he not come home late one afternoon to dress for a dinner at his club, when he discovered that, owing to the usual causes, the week's wash, which the combined efforts of cook and waitress should have finished that day, was delayed twenty-four hours, the consequence being that Thaddeus had to telephone to the haberdashery for a dress-shirt and collar.

"It's bad enough having one's wife buy these things for one, but when it comes to having a salesman sell you over a telephone the style of shirt and collar 'he always wears himself,' it is maddening," began Thaddeus, and then he went on at such an outrageous rate that Bessie became hysterical, and Thaddeus's conscience would not permit of his going out at all that night, and that was the beginning of the end.

"I'll fix 'em at Christmas-time," said Thaddeus.

"You won't forget them at Christmas, I hope, Thad," said Bessie, whose forgiving nature would not hear of anything so ungenerous as forgetting the servants during the holidays.

"No," laughed Thaddeus. "I won't forget 'em. I'll give 'em all the very things they like best."

"Oh, I see," smiled Bessie. "On the coals-of-fire principle. Well, I shouldn't wonder but it would work admirably. Perhaps they'll be so ashamed they'll do better."

"Perhaps--if the coals do not burn too deep," said Thaddeus, with a significant smile.

Christmas Eve arrived, and little Thad's tree was dressed, the gifts were arranged beneath it, and all seemed in readiness for the dawning of the festal day, when Bessie, taking a mental inventory of the packages and discovering nothing among them for the servants save her own usual contribution of a dress and a pair of gloves for each, turned and said to Thaddeus:

"Where are the hot coals?"

"The what?" asked Thaddeus.

"The coals of fire for the girls and John."

"Oh!" Thaddeus replied, "I have 'em in the library. I don't think they'll go well with the tree."

"What are they?" queried Bess, with a natural show of curiosity.

"Checks?"

"Yes, partly," said Thaddeus. "Mary is to have a check for $16, Bridget one for $18, and John one for $40."

"Why, Thaddeus, that's extravagant. Now, my dear, there's no use of your doing anything of that--"

"Wait and see," said Thaddeus.

"But, Teddy!" Bessie remonstrated. "Those are the amounts of their wages. You will spoil them, and if I--"

"As I said before, wait, Bess, wait!" said Thaddeus, calmly.

"You'll understand the whole scheme to-morrow, after breakfast."

And she did, and when she did she almost wished for a moment that she didn't, for after breakfast Thaddeus summoned the three offenders into his presence, and the effect was not altogether free from painful features to the forgiving Bess.

"Bridget," Thaddeus said, "do you remember what Mrs. Perkins gave you last Christmas?"

"I do not!" replied Bridget, rather uncompromisingly; for it was a matter of history that she thought Mrs. Perkins on the last Christmas festival had shown signs of parsimony in giving her a calico gown instead of one of silk.

"Well, you won't forget next year what you got this," said Thaddeus, dryly. "Here is an envelope containing $18, the amount of your wages until January 1st. Mary, what did you get last Christmas?"

"A box of candy, sir."

"Nothing else?"

"I believe there was a dress of some kind. I gave it to my cousin."

"Good. I am glad you were so generous. Here is an envelope for you. It has $16 in it, your wages up to January 1st."

Bessie stood in the doorway, a mute witness to what seemed to her an incomprehensible scene.

"John, what did you get?"

"Five dollars an' a day off."

"And a two-dollar bill for Dennis, eh?"