Sparrows | Page 8

office; also, the Misses
Mee, when opportunity served, had not been backward in making
copious references to the occasion on which they had drunk tea with
the deceased author. Indeed, the parents and friends had breathed such
an atmosphere of Ruskin that there were eight requests for his works at
the local free library during the following week.
"Good old Ruskin!" laughed Mavis, as she ran downstairs to the
breakfast room, which was situated in the basement. Here, the only
preparation made for the meal was a not too clean table-cloth spread
upon the table. Mavis went into the kitchen, where she found Amelia,
the general servant, doing battle with a smoky kitchen-fire.
"How long before breakfast is ready?" asked Mavis.
"Is that you, miss? Oi can't see you properly," said Amelia, as she
turned her head. "This 'ere smoke had got into my best oye."
Amelia spoke truly; there was a great difference between the seeing
capacity of her two eyes, one of these being what is known as "walled."
Amelia was an orphan; she had been dragged up by the "Metropolitan
Association for Befriending Young Servants," known to its familiars as
the "Mabys," such designation being formed by the first letter of each
word of the title. Every week, dozens of these young women issued
from the doors of the many branches of this institution, who became, to

their respective mistresses, a source of endless complaint; in times of
domestic stress, one or two of these "generals" had been known to keep
their situations for three months. Amelia was a prodigy of success, a
record in the annals of the society, inasmuch as she had been at
Brandenburg College for two years and a half. She kept her situation
because she was cheap; also, because she did her best to give
satisfaction, as she appreciated the intellectual atmosphere of the place,
which made her hope that she, too, might pick up a few educational
crumbs; moreover, she was able to boast to her intimates, on the
occasions when she visited her parent home, how her two mistresses
could speak four languages, which was certainly true.
"Wasn't it all beautiful, miss?" asked Amelia, who had listened to
yesterday's entertainment halfway down the stairs leading to the
basement.
"Wonderful," replied Mavis, as she tied on a kitchen apron, a
preliminary to giving Amelia a helping hand with the breakfast.
"And the 'reverend'! He did make me laugh when he gave four prizes to
fat Miss Robson, and said she was a good all round girl."
This joke had not been intentional on Mr Smiley's part; he had been
puzzled by the roar of laughter which had greeted his remark; when he
divined its purport, he was quite willing to take credit for having
deliberately made the sally.
"You managed to hear that?" asked Mavis.
"Yes, miss; an' what the 'reverend' said about dear Mr Fuskin. I 'eard
that too."
"Ruskin," corrected Mavis, as she set about making coffee.
Amelia, with a hurt expression on her face, turned to look at Miss
Keeves, who, noticing the girl's dejection, said:
"Call him what you like, Amelia. It's only the Miss Mees who're so

particular."
"Dear gentleman," continued Amelia. "Next to being always with you,
miss, I should like to have been with 'im."
"I'm afraid you can't even be with me. I have to earn my own living."
"Yes, miss; but when you marry a rich gentleman, I should like to come
with you as 'general.'"
"Don't talk nonsense, Amelia."
"But it ain't, miss; didn't the music master, 'im with the lovely, long,
shiny 'air, promise me a shillin' to give you a note?"
"Did he?" laughed Mavis. "It's nearly eight: you'd better take in the
breakfast things."
"Oh, well, if I can't be here, or with you, I'd sooner be with that dear
Mr--"
"Ruskin, Amelia," interrupted Mavis. "Try and get it right, if only for
once."
Amelia took no notice of the interruption, but went on, as she dusted
the cups, before putting them on the tray:
"Dear Mr Fuskin! 'Ow I would have looked after 'im, and 'ow carefully
I'd 'ave counted 'is washing!"
Punctually, as the clock struck eight, the two Miss Mees entered the
breakfast room; they kissed Mavis on the cheek before sitting down to
the meal. They asked each other and Mavis how they had slept, as was
their invariable custom; but the sensitive, observant girl could not help
noticing that the greetings of her employers were a trifle less cordial
than was their wont. Mavis put down this comparative coldness to their
pride at the success of yesterday's festival.
To the indifferent observer, the Miss Mees were exactly alike, being

meagre, dilapidated, white-haired old ladies, with the same beaked
noses and receding chins; both wore rusty black