he had placed in a tub before him. In spite of my entreaties to be
allowed to "wash-up" myself, he gallantly declared that he could do
it beautifully, and that the great thing was to have the water very
hot. In pursuance of this theory he poured the contents of a kettle
of boiling water over his plates, plunged his hand in, and dropped
the top plate, with a shriek of dismay, on those beneath it. Out of
consideration for that well-meaning emigrant's feelings, I abstain
from publishing the list of the killed and wounded, briefly stating
that he might almost as well have fired a shot among my poor plates.
A perfect fountain of water and chips and bits of china flew up into
the air, and I really believe that hardly one plate remained
uncracked. So much for one's friends. I must candidly state that
although the servants broke a good deal, we destroyed twice as much
amongst us during the week which must needs elapse between their
departure and, the arrival of the new ones.

Shall I ever forget the guilty pallor which overspread the bronzed
and bearded countenance of one of my guests, who particularly wished
to dust the drawing-room ornaments, when on hearing a slight crash I
came into the room and found him picking up the remains of a china
shepherdess? Considering everything, I kept my temper remarkably
well, merely observing that he had better go into the verandah and
sit down with a book and his pipe, and send Joey in to help me.
Joey was a little black monkey from Panama, who had to be provided
with broken bits of delf or china in order that he might amuse
himself by breaking them ingeniously into smaller fragments.

But the real object of this chapter was to relate some of my own
private misfortunes in the cooking line. Once, when Alice S--- was
staying with me and we had no servants, she and I undertook to bake