see if I could not have some that he could eat; therefore I _pored_
over Mrs. Rundle, and other books, for a whole day, but could not find
how to begin. None of them told me how to _make_ the butter, though
several gave directions for potting it down when it was made. I made
the boy churn for more than three hours yesterday morning, but got no
butter after all. _It would not come!_ The weather was very cold, and
it occurred to the listener to ask the lady _where_ the boy churned,
and where the cream had been kept during the previous night.

"Why, in the dairy, to be sure," was the answer; "and my feet became
so chilled by standing there, that I can hardly put them to the ground
since. Cook could not succeed more than I did, and said, the last time
she made it, it was between four and five hours before the butter
came; and then, as I have told you, it was not eatable."

The writer explained to her friend that the reason why she could not
get the butter, as well as why cook's was so bad, was on account of
the low temperature of the cream when it was put into the churn. She
then gave her plain directions how to proceed for the future, and was
gratified by receiving a note from her friend, in a couple of days,
containing her thanks for the "very plain directions;" and adding, "I
could not have thought it was so little trouble to procure _good_
butter, and shall for the future be independent of a saucy dairymaid."

I believe that a really clever servant will never give any one
particulars respecting her work. She wraps them up in an impenetrable
mystery. Like the farmers' wives, who, to our queries, gave no other
answer than, "Why, that depends," they take care that no one shall be
any the wiser for the questions asked.