however, is her favourite, probably from, being the youngest, though
he is the most mischievous, and has been apt to play tricks upon her
from boyhood.

I cannot help mentioning one little ceremony, which, I believe, is
peculiar to the Hall. After the cloth is removed at dinner, the old
housekeeper sails into the room and stands behind the Squire's chair,
when he fills her a glass of wine with his own hands, in which she
drinks the health of the company in a truly respectful yet dignified
manner, and then retires. The Squire received the custom from his
father, and has always continued it.

There is a peculiar character about the servants of old English
families that reside principally in the country. They have a quiet,
orderly, respectful mode of doing their duties. They are always neat
in their persons, and appropriately, and if I may use the phrase,
technically dressed; they move about the house without hurry or noise;
there is nothing of the bustle of employment, or the voice of command;
nothing of that obtrusive housewifery that amounts to a torment. You
are not persecuted by the process of making you comfortable; yet every
thing is done, and is done well. The work of the house is performed as
if by magic, but it is the magic of system. Nothing is done by fits
and starts, nor at awkward seasons; the whole goes on like well-oiled
clock-work, where there is no noise nor jarring in its operations.

English servants, in general, are not treated with great indulgence,
nor rewarded by many commendations; for the English are laconic and
reserved toward their domestics; but an approving nod and a kind word
from master or mistress, goes as far here, as an excess of praise or
indulgence elsewhere. Neither do servants often exhibit any animated