Letters to Persons Who Are Engaged in Domestic Service. Catharine Esther Beecher
them to obey the rules he had given, on all these subjects. For this good man never found that they needed instruction on any duty, when he could not find a plenty of rules and directions about the matter in the Bible.
After preaching to them thus, when all together, he used to go around, and talk with every one separately, and find out whether or not each was trying to follow his advice.
One day after he had been down in the fields, talking to some of the farmers, he came up through one of the beautiful gardens, and as he passed a white marble fountain, he found one of the girls who worked in the kitchen, sitting under the shade by it, looking discontented and sullen. So he went up to her and spoke in a kind and pleasant way, and then the following conversation took place.
“Well, Sarah,” said he, “what makes you look so displeased and uncomfortable?”
Sarah. It is because I do not think I am fairly treated. I cannot see, for my part, why I have not as good a right to sit up in the parlours to sew and read, when I have got my work done, as the girls who are allowed to sit there. They are no better than I am, and yet they wear fine clothes, and sit in beautiful rooms, and have nothing to do but sew on fine things. And here I have to stay in the kitchen and work, work, work all day long, and wear homely clothes, and have the poorest rooms, and be ordered about by others, instead of doing as I please. And just now, when I went up to sit a little while with those who were sewing up in the parlours, the head cook came and called me down, and told me never to go up and sit in the parlours again.
Minister. And did she tell you any reason for what she required?
Sarah. Why yes, she said she wanted me to be where she could call me when she needed my help, and that my shoes and frock would dirty the stair carpet, and the parlour carpets and sofas, and that if I went up all the rest that worked in the kitchen would go up too, and this would make work and trouble, and that she never could keep things going on well in the kitchen, if this was allowed. But I cannot see why we cannot be allowed to go up sometimes, when we have no work to do—I am sure I am as nice and careful as any of the girls up stairs.
Minister. So you are, Sarah. But do you think Peggy and Susan are as nice as you?
Sarah. Mercy on us!—I guess you would not think so, if you could see their greasy frocks and aprons, and their dirty shoes.
Minister. Well—Sarah, don’t you suppose they think they are nice enough?
Sarah. Yes, I suppose so—for when I tell them to fix up and look clean and nice, they only laugh at me, and say they are not going to wash and fuss and prink up as I do every day.
Minister. Well, suppose you were allowed to go and sit in the parlours every day, would not Peggy and Susan think they had as good a right to do so as you, and would not they be angry and discontented because the head cook was partial to you and unjust to them?
Sarah. Well, I suppose they would.
Minister. Sarah, do you not have time to sew and read, after your work is done, as much as you wish?
Sarah. Oh yes, we have a good deal of time for ourselves.
Minister. Is not your chamber a comfortable one, and do you not have all the comforts and conveniences you need?
Sarah. Oh yes. I am sure I never, when I was at my dear home, had such a comfortable and pleasant chamber and good bed, and all sorts of comforts.
Minister. And do you not have as good food as the girls who sit in the parlour?
Sarah. Oh yes—quite as good—I have never complained about that.
Minister. And who do you love most, and like to talk to the best?
Sarah. I like Emily who works with me the most of any one, she is so kind and obliging, and as cheerful and merry as a lark.
Minister. Do you like any of those who sit in the parlour and sew, as well as you like Emily?
Sarah. Oh no, sir—not half so well. They are all so proud because they have such nice clothes, and sit in such fine rooms, that I cannot bear them.
Minister. Well then, my good Sarah, it appears that you have a good and pleasant room of your own to stay in, and a good bed, and good food, and even more comforts and conveniences than you had at your own home. And you have time to read and sew, and books given you to read, and you have the friend you love best, to work with you, and all that I can find out that troubles you is, that you cannot go up and sit in fine rooms, where every body is dressed better than you, among people that you say are so proud you cannot bear them. It does not seem to me that this is any very great evil, and if you will follow my advice you will soon get over this trouble. Now I want you, first, to think over these things. Somebody had got to do the work in the kitchen, or all the company would be uncomfortable and hungry. It is just as right and proper for you to do it, as for any body else. If your lot had been drawn by one of the girls in the parlour, she would have been in your place, and you perhaps in hers, and then you would not have thought about the matter as you do now.
You are doing a great deal of good in the place where you are. The head cook tells me that you are always up in good season, neat and tidy, quick and obliging, and that it is a great comfort to her to have so capable and good a girl to help her. And I do not suppose there is a person in the whole company that does more good than you do, or contributes more to the comfort and enjoyment of the whole family.
And it is God, my dear child, who put you in your lot, and he it is that requires you to be obedient to those that have rule, and to be cheerful, industrious and content with your lot. Think of these things when you feel troubled, and go and pray to God to help you put away all proud, and envious, and discontented feelings, and then I am sure you will never feel or look so troubled about this matter again.
Now Sarah was a good, and generous, and grateful girl, and when the minister talked so kindly to her, she told him she had been feeling wrong, and that she would try to follow his advice. And then when he shook hands with her, and gave her his blessing, she told him that he was the best and kindest friend she had in the world.
And so she went in to her work, and soon the good man heard her chatting and singing with her friend Emily, as cheerful and busy as a bee.
LETTER III.
Difficulties experienced by the shipwrecked company, and how these were remedied.
My Friends:
In the following letter I shall tell you of some trouble that these shipwrecked persons met, in following out their new plan of life.
After they had spent several months in doing up the work which past neglect had made needful, and after the harvest was gathered in, the good minister found many evils coming upon them, for want of enough work to keep them all busy. Idleness is the parent of a thousand evils and vices, and therefore something he saw must be devised, in order to keep all hands employed.
The company came together to talk over this matter. At this meeting it was stated that their clothing and furniture were going to destruction even with careful use, and that as more must be provided soon, this might afford employment to idle hands. It was then urged by some of the company that they should take what wool they could get from their sheep, and what flax they could raise, and make a kind of coarse and strong cloth called linsey woolsey, and then all might dress alike, and thus there would be no more trouble about some having better clothes than others. But it soon was shown that this would not remedy the difficulty about employment. For such coarse and strong clothing would last so long, that all those who now had employment in making and mending and refitting and in doing fine sewing, would be thrown out of employ.
At length it was agreed that an embassy should be sent to the king, to request him to let the company trade with at least one store on their borders, where they