on all occasions answer any calls and pay always for breakage. This last saved twenty dollars a month, for hardly anything under those expensive circumstances, fell of their hands; and I noticed the plea of 'sudden change of weather,' or 'some one must have disturbed it,' or 'that horrid cat has been among those dishes and upset them,' or 'twas cracked before,' became as worn out as aphorisms of the past. I was always very attentive to them when sick. This tells, in the long run, on servants, for they are very susceptible to a kind act out of place—indulgence, however, is soon forgotten. I always made it a habit, too, to pay each servant something more a month than any one else. That, also, acted wonderfully like a retainer. But I distinctly told them I wanted my work done, because it was paid for. I asked no favors. Two other rules saved me much trouble. When a girl said she couldn't do any set job, on account of no time, no matter what it was, I always said, 'why, that's all nonsense; it only takes five minutes;' and not infrequently have I irritated them into doing almost impossibilities. I never valued any cheap article under five dollars.

Another great mistake, is to find fault with a servant before any one. Have they done wrong, go to your library and ring loudly—that is half the battle; then tell the waiter to call the chambermaid, and then speak. You will find everything easy. They have had time to reflect; to weigh the pros and cons, and have half thought themselves into submission. Never argue. If you have the right exert it, but never be unjust; and, above all, believe me when I tell you that their feelings are exquisite on the subject of neglect. Let them once feel a respect for you, yet know you are determined to have anything done, and a simple remark will lie like lead on their stomach, and you will hear them talking of it down stairs and using the bow anchor of firmness, 'he said so,' until it is done. Never change your mind.

I remember once, during that memorable interregnum of three months, and, in fact, the only time in my life did it happen.—I had invited some very pleasant, agreeable and talented friends to spend the evening. I ordered my supper in the morning, and it commenced to snow. I continued giving orders, and it continued snowing, and we kept at it very close on to each other; if anything, the snow was a little ahead, but I went on in the same way. At the proposed time the gas was lit, a lantern was placed on the piazza; snow swept off; the side gate unhung by the waiter man, and a path made. The snow piled high, and the domestics began to give in, or out, I don't know which. They doubted the probability of any one venturing out that 'dreadful night.' A little later, they began to talk among themselves of the improbability of any one coming. I immediately ordered the gas turned up in full; the candles lit, and the supper table laid—every dish put in its place empty, to be filled at the proper time—all for discipline. (I had said it was to be done in the morning.) I then went up stairs and dressed. My sister, who had gained five pounds every week since her abdication, met me in the drawing room, dressed elegantly, and with an encouraging air pressed my hand. She did not dare to make a remark, or the contract would have been violated; but I thought I could detect in her eye an acknowledgment of my success. As I sauntered through the brilliantly lighted rooms, rather depressed at the non-arrival of my guests, the waiter said Thomas would like to speak to me. I immediately went to the star chamber and took an easy position.

A knock this time.

'Come in.'

In walked Thomas with his hat in his hand and bowing respectively, he said—'I have just come from the stable Mr. D'Aubrey, and thought you would like to know about the storm, sir.'

'What storm?' I exclaimed, 'oh, you mean the snow storm, yes—is it still snowing?' At that moment the window was crackling with the hail.

'Yes sir, and I thought I'd tell you that no one could come out to-night, for a horse without a wagon could not walk one hundred yards.'

'Thank you, Thomas, give the bay mare more corn to-morrow and call Henry.'—Henry, the waiter, came in expecting orders to put away the clean things and lock up for it was ten, and not a soul had arrived. 'Order supper Henry at eleven.'

'For whom, sir?'

'For me—what are you waiting for?'

'How much, sir,' said he, in a bewildered air. 'All of it.'

He looked anxious. He could not classify me, but discipline must be carried out, so Mary and I sat down to enough for twenty-five persons, who had never known the pangs of dyspepsia. As soon as we had finished I ordered a large portion of it down stairs, for the benefit of the servants and retired. They all looked pleased and I was satisfied. Mrs. Phillips had the nightmare at about two o'clock.

Before I took charge, the allies of my household were accustomed to come in at all hours and sit up till they were too sleepy to go to bed, looking the next morning like wet blotting paper. But that was soon stopped. For the morning of my address to them I stated that the house was shut up at ten p. m., and now and then it was amusing to hear the door open as the clock struck.

One night at about twelve as I was sitting at my desk in the library, I heard someone trying to get in. I knew it was the waiter who had slipped out without leave, so I turned out the gas, put my head out of the window and said 'I know it must be a robber, for they are all in,' and seeing his form I fired off my revolver overhead.—No servant ever tried again to enter by stealing in after hours. When my sister kept house I suffered much for want of dishes during many days in the week.—There was very little variety.

Sundays we had only potatoes and cold meat.

'Why,' I asked.

'They must go to church, my dear brother.'

Mondays, one fry, not even a roast, it was washing day, all the heat must be turned off from the oven for the boiler.—The cook wouldn't have it roasted in front, the only true way.

So no dessert could be baked.

Tuesdays I could have no company for it was ironing day, and the irons filled up the range and nothing extra could be made. I submitted to my sister.

But now I had soup every day, and whenever I saw anything very good in market I ordered it home and had it cooked. Strange isn't it, with the same range and the same cook? Before my reign we could not breakfast till nine, the cook said that the milkman came so late. During my reign we breakfasted at eight punctually, for I suggested to her the propriety of rising at six instead of seven and letting him in on his first trip instead of taking the milk from him on his return. My sister was obliged to tell her two or three days before hand that she was going to have company, that she might have time to get everything ready for dinner. I frequently brought home two or three guests with fish and game in the same carriage and ordered it as the fourth course while partaking of soup. On one occasion I brought in partridges twenty minutes before dinner. I went down stairs knowing she would be roused this time, and flanked her by saying, 'Hannah, you won't have time to pick those birds, so just draw them and skin them. I want them roasted.' Before she recovered from her astonishment I had departed.

Whenever a quarrel down stairs took place I never interfered as long as they did not talk loud, but the next day if I noticed any one in the sulks or a tendency to let things go by, I had the furniture of one room changed to another. This required 'all hands' to work together, and I made them fly round so, that when it was done they were only too happy to go to lunch and rest, and I could hear many a joke and pleasant laugh rise from the kitchen table.

One rainy evening, as my