Herbert was not able to obtain a cook for the Bangletop cuisine who would
stay, nor was any one able to discover why. Cook after cook came, stayed a
day, a week, and one or two held on for two weeks, but never longer. Their
course was invariably the same--they would leave without notice; nor could
any inducement be offered which would persuade them to remain. The Baron
of Peddlington became, first round-shouldered, then deaf, and then insane
in his search for a permanent cook, landing finally in an asylum, where he
died, four years after the demise of his employer in London, of softening
of the brain. His last words were, "Why did you leave your last place?"

[Illustration]

And so time went on. Barons of Bangletop were born, educated, and died.
Dynasties rose and fell, but Bangletop Hall remained uninhabited, although
it was not until 1799 that the family gave up all hopes of being able to
use their ancestral home. Tremendous alterations, as I have already
hinted, were made. The drainage was carefully inspected, and a special
apartment connected with the kitchen, finished in hardwood, handsomely
decorated, and hung with rich tapestries, was provided for the cook, in
the vain hope that she might be induced permanently to occupy her
position. The Queen Anne wing and Elizabethan ell were constructed, the
latter to provide bowling-alleys and smoking-rooms for the probable
cousins of possible culinary queens, and many there were who accepted the
office with alacrity, throwing it up with still greater alacrity before
the usual fortnight passed. Then the Bangletops saw clearly that it was
impossible for them to live there, and moving away, the house was
announced to be "for rent, with all modern improvements, conveniently
located, spacious grounds, especially adapted to the use of those who do
their own cooking." The last clause of the announcement puzzled a great
many people, who went to see the mansion for no other reason than to