The Water Ghost and Others | Page 8

she said, sir," cried Bangletop, cutting De Herbert
short. "When I am interested in the table-talk of cooks, I'll let you know.
What I wish to hear is what do you think was the cause of her leaving?"
"I have no opinion on the subject," replied the private secretary, with
becoming dignity. "I only know that at four o'clock this morning she
knocked at my door, and demanded her wages for four days, and
vowed she'd stay no longer in the house."
"And why, pray, did you not inform me of the fact, instead of having
me travel away down here from London?" queried Bangletop.
"You forget, Baron," replied De Herbert, with a deprecatory
gesture--"you forget that there is no system of telegraphy by which you
could be reached. I may be poor, sir, but I'm just as much of a baron as

you are, and I will take the liberty of saying right here, in what would
be the shadow of your beard, if you had one, sir, that a man who insists
on receiving cable messages when no such things exist is rather rushing
business."
"Pardon my haste, Peddlington, old chap," returned the baron, softening.
"You are quite right. My desire was unreasonable; but I swear to you,
by all my ancestral Bangletops, that I am hungry as a pit full of bears,
and if there's one thing I can't eat, it is lobster and apples. Can't you
scare up a snack of bread and cheese and a little cold larded fillet? If
you'll supply the fillet, I'll provide the cold."
At this sally the Baron of Peddlington laughed and the quarrel was over.
But none the less the master of Bangletop went to bed hungry; nor
could he do any better in the morning at breakfast-time. The butler had
not been trained to cook, and the coachman's art had once been tried on
a boiled egg, which no one had been able to open, much less eat, and as
it was the parlor-maid's Sunday off, there was absolutely no one in the
house who could prepare a meal. The Baron of Bangletop had a sort of
sneaking notion that if there were nobody around he could have
managed the spit or gridiron himself; but, of course, in view of his
position, he could not make the attempt. And so he once more returned
to London, and vowed never to set his foot within the walls of
Bangletop Hall again until his ancestral home was provided with a
cook "copper-fastened and riveted to her position."
And Bangletop Hall from that time was as a place deserted. The baron
never returned, because he could not return without violating his oath;
for De 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
ascertain just what the announcement meant, and the line, which was
inserted in a pure spirit of facetious bravado, was probably