The True Life of Betty Ireland | Page 5

at home or abroad, they began in earnest to improve their Concerns, as they were sure they were working for themselves, and in no Danger of being dispossessed, by Virtue of chimerical Claims, and Antediluvian Proprietors.
The Blacks, indeed, immediately made a Riot on this new Settlement, but could not get Possession; and, lately, a young Jackanapes pretended a Right to be Steward to both Sisters, by Virtue of a Patent he had got from the last Steward, as if he had a Right to dispose of a Place he had been turned out of himself. He came on the Lands, however, with a bloody-minded Crew of skirtless Vagabonds, drove off the Cattle, robbed the Hen-roosts, and swaggered at so unmerciful a Rate, that Blanch was frightened out of her Senses, and was fain to send for a Dram of Gin to restore her Spirits. But if she was frightened, her Guardian was not, and had a Month's Mind to find out the Varlet in Person, and tread him under his Feet. But as he could not leave the Hall-house where the Court was sitting, he sent a Lad of his own to take Account of him, who did the Business tightly. He was a well-mettled Blade, and Steel to the Back. He came up with him at the Corner of a Farmer's Yard, where he gave him and his Desperados a wofull Drubbing, kicked him i'the A----e, soused him in the Horse-pond, which he swam over to save his Bacon, and looked so miserably scared in his Passage, that it's sure he'll never try the Ford again.
For a good while before this Alarm happened (which proved nothing but a Bugbear) both the Sisters had a fair Opportunity of minding their Concerns, and getting above the World. Blanch might have paid her Debts, and had Money to the fore; but it was ever her Misfortune to be ill-served by almost all she employed. Never, sure, had Lady so unhandy a Pack about her, and, indeed, it was impossible it could well be otherwise; for she did not chuse her Servants because they were fit for this, or that Office, but because they asked, and would have it, or be horribly out of Humour else, would make a Noise and Uproar at every Court-Leet, terrify the Tenants at every Ale-house, with strange Stories of Designs on their Copy-holds, and wicked Plots just ready to begin; 'till they turned their Heads, and set them madding. So that the poor Lady was fain to take them in, to keep Peace at Home, and to pay them Wages for not doing her Business. The Consequence of which was, she had Clerks could neither write or read; Book, and Cash-keepers, that could not count or cast up, or ever heard of a Ballance in their Lives. And so ridiculous was her Compliance in this Point, that she had once a Lady to curry her Horse, and a Fishmonger for a Grass Bailiff.
'Tis true, she would often change her Servants, but not a Barrel the better Herring. If she got one, by chance, knew any thing of his Business, the rest never left boddering her 'till they had him out. It should never be said they demeaned themselves so much as to serve with one, who would spoil every thing by his Rashness, and disgrace the Service by his Ignorance. Now, by Rashness they meant resenting Insults and Injuries done their Lady; and by Ignorance, not knowing how to buy and sell, and live by the Loss. So that, all Things considered, it were a Marvel her Affairs should be in better Plight than they are, or her Debts be paid with more Ease and Expedition.
Betty, in the mean time, is come to an opulent Fortune, has her Rents well paid, and her Farms daily improving, and would improve ten times more, if her Sister could see her own Advantage so far, as to give her that Encouragement she is daily giving to Strangers, who give her nothing in Return but their Envy and Ill-will. But as it is, Betty's in a good Way, and makes the most of a bad Market. And since she must not work for her Sister, she works for herself.
It had been a Custom of hers to buy every thing she wanted from her Sister's Tenants and Tradesmen, though they used her abominably, and put off upon her the worst Goods they had. If the Farmer had damaged Hops, he sold them to Betty Ireland; if his Malt was blinked, away it went to her; and the Pothecary thought his decayed Drugs good enough for Betty, and instead of burning them, laid them by for her, as tho' she were not a Christian, or had the same Inside as her Sister.
Betty could