“My dear child!” Mrs. Milnor said to her, with affectionate earnestness, in reply to this allusion—­“depend upon it, four-fifths of the bad domestics are made so by injudicious treatment.  They are, for the most part, ignorant of almost every thing, and too often, particularly, of their duties in a family.  Instead of being borne with, instructed, and treated with consideration, they are scolded, driven and found fault with.  Kind words they too rarely receive; and no one can well and cheerfully perform all that is required of her as a domestic, if she is never spoken to kindly, never considered—­never borne with, patiently.  It is in our power to make a great deal of work for our servants that is altogether unnecessary—­and of course, in our power to save them many steps, and many moments of time.  If we are in the chambers, and wish a servant for any thing, and she is down in the kitchen engaged, it is always well to think twice before we ring for her once.  It may be, that we do not really want the attendance of any one, or can just as well wait until some errand has brought her up stairs.  Then, there are various little things in which we can help ourselves and ought to do it.  It is unpardonable, I think, for a lady to ring for a servant to come up one or two pairs of stairs merely to hand her a drink, when all she has to do is to cross the room, and get it for herself.  Or for a young lady to require a servant to attend to all her little wants, when she can and ought to help herself, even if it takes her from the third story to the kitchen, half a dozen times a day.  Above all, domestics should never be scolded.  If reproof is necessary, let it be administered in a calm mild voice, and the reasons shown why the act complained of is wrong.  This is the only way in which any good is done.”

“I wish my mother could only learn that,” said Helen, mentally, as Mrs. Milnor ceased speaking.  When she returned home, it was with a deeply formed resolution never again to speak reprovingly to any of her mother’s domestics—­never to order them to do any thing for her,—­and never to require them to wait upon her when she could just as well help herself.  In this she proved firm.  The consequence was, an entire change in Hannah’s deportment towards her, and a cheerful performance by her of every thing she asked her to do.  This could not but be observed by her mother, and it induced her to modify, to some extent, her way of treating her servants.  The result was salutary, and now she has far less trouble with them than she ever had in her life.  All, she finds, are not so worthless as she had deemed them.

CHAPTER XXXI.

A MOTHER’S DUTY.

I CLOSE my volume of rambling sketches, with a chapter more didactic and serious.  The duties of the housekeeper and mother, usually unite in the same person; but difficult and perplexing as is the former relation, how light and easy are all its claims compared with those of the latter.  Among my readers are many mothers—­Let us for a little while hold counsel together.