The girls are not nearly so tractable as formerly—­they are fully aware of their own value and put it extremely high; a word is sufficient, and if not pleased they leave immediately.  Wages rise yearly to about the limit of twelve pounds.  In mentioning that sum it is not set down as an exact figure, for circumstances of course vary in every case.  But it is seldom that servants in farmhouses of the middle class receive more than that.  Until recently few obtained so much.  Most of them that are worth anything never rest till they reach the towns, and take service in the villas of the wealthy suburban residents.  Some few, however, remain in the country from preference, feeling a strong affection for their native place, for their parents and friends.  Notwithstanding the general tendency to roam, this love of home is by no means extinct, but shows itself very decidedly in some of the village girls.

The fogger, or milker, who comes to the farmhouse door in the morning may not present a very attractive appearance in the eyes of those accustomed to see well-dressed people; but it may be quite different with the young girl whose early associations have made her oblivious of dirt.  She does not notice the bits of hay clinging to the smockfrock, the greasy hat and begrimed face, or the clumsy boots thickly coated with mud.  A kiss may be quite as sweet, despite these mere outside accidents.  In her way she is full of imagination and fancy—­what her mistress would call ‘giddy.’  Within doors an eye may be on her, so she slips out to the wood-stack in the yard, ostensibly to fetch a log for the fire, and indulges in a few moments of flirtation behind the shelter of the faggots.  In the summer she works doubly hard in the morning, and gets everything forward, so that she may go out to the field haymaking in the afternoon, when she may meet her particular friend, and also, perhaps, his rival.

On Sundays she gladly walks two or more miles across the fields to church, knowing full well that some one will be lounging about a certain stile, or lying on the sward by a gate waiting for her.  The practice of coquetry is as delightful in the country lane as in the saloons of wealth, though the ways in which it exhibits itself may be rude in comparison.  So that love is sometimes the detaining force which keeps the girl in the country.  Some of the young labourers are almost heirs to property in their eyes.  One is perhaps the son of the carrier, who owns a couple of cottages let out to tenants; or the son of the blacksmith, at whom several caps are set, and about whom no little jealousy rages.  On the whole, servants in the country, at least at farmhouses, have much more liberty than they could possibly get in town.

The work is hard in the morning, but generally much less for the rest of the day; in the evening there is often scarcely anything to do.  So that the farmhouse servant has much time to herself, and is not too strictly confined indoors when not at work.  There is a good deal of ‘company,’ too; men coming to the door, men in the rick-yards and cattle-yards, men in the barn, labourers passing to their work, and so on.  It is not so dull a life as might appear.  Indeed, a farmhouse servant probably sees twice as many of her own class in the course of a week as a servant in town.