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The Cot And The Rill
by
“I sat upright in my slippery horsehair chair and spoke no word. Surely Anita had astonished me more than I could possibly astonish her! Before me sat my beautiful wife: the mistress of my great house in town, with its butlers and footmen, its maids and its men, its horses, its carriages, its grand company, and its stately hospitality; the lady of my famous country estate, with more butlers and footmen and gardeners and stewards and maids and men and stables and carriages and herds and flocks, its house-parties of distinguished guests–here was this wife of mine, so well known in so many fashionable centres; a social star at home and abroad; a delicately reared being, always surrounded by servitors of every grade, who had never found it necessary to stoop to pick up so much as a handkerchief or a rosebud; and here was this superfine lady of high degree, who had just announced to me that she intended to cook our meals, to pare our potatoes, to wash our dishes, and, probably, to sweep our floors. No wonder I opened my mouth.
“‘I hope, now,’ said Anita, putting her feet out in front of her to keep herself from slipping off the horsehair sofa, ‘that you thoroughly understand. I do not want any assistance while we are in this cot. I have sent away Maria, who has gone to visit her parents, and no woman in service is to come on this place while I am here. I have been studying hard with Mrs. Parker at the hotel, who seems to be an excellent housekeeper and accustomed to homely fare, and I have learned how to make and to cook a great many things which are simple and nutritious; I have had appropriate dresses made, and Maria has gone to town and bought me a great variety of household linen, all good and plain, for our damask table-cloths would look perfectly ridiculous here. I have also laid in a great many other things which you will see from time to time.'”
“What a wonderful moment this would have been for a great slump in stocks!” remarked the Master of the House. “Everything swept away but the cot and the rill and the dear little wife with her coarse linen and her determination to keep no servant. The husband of your Anita would have been the luckiest fellow on Wall Street. If I were working on this story I would have the blackest of Black Fridays just here.”
“‘Now, Harold,’ said Anita, ‘I do not in the least intend to impose upon you. Because I choose to work is no reason why you should be compelled to do so.’
“‘I am glad to hear that,’ said I.
“‘I knew you would be,’ continued Anita. ‘But of course neither of us will want very much done for us if we live a cotter’s life with these simple surroundings, and so I think one man will be quite enough to do for you all you will want done. But of course if you think it necessary to have two I shall not object.’
“‘One will be enough,’ said I, ‘and I will see about sending for him this afternoon.’
“‘I am so glad,’ said Anita, ‘that you have not got him now, for we can have our first meal in the cot all by ourselves. I’ll run up-stairs and dress, and then I will come down and do my first cooking.’
“In a very short time Anita appeared in a neat dress of coarse blue stuff, a little short in the skirts, with a white apron over it.
“‘Come, now,’ said she, gayly, ‘let us go into the kitchen and see what we shall have for dinner. Shall it be dinner or lunch? Cotters dine about noon.’
“‘Oh, make it lunch,’ said I. ‘I am hungry, and I do not want to wait to get up a dinner.’ Anita agreed to this, and we went to work to take the lid off a hamper which she told me had been packed by Mrs. Parker and contained everything we should want for several days.