"A good mistress," with the master of the house, is one who is just the reverse of all this. She is one who is constantly fighting waste and unnecessary outlay, and stupidity, and ignorance, and obstinacy, and impertinence, and unthrift. She is one who, with a constant panorama of Bridgets, and Betseys, and Marys, and Sallys, through her lower domains, at the expense of her own strength, and patience, and temper, and brain, and with no prospect of an end to the same until intelligence-offices contain more intelligence, is yet perfectly seraphic at the idea of being at the head of a training-school for servants, the remainder of her natural life; and smiles constantly at the same time under reminders of the necessity of greater economy in the household department. This is the husband's idea of "a good mistress."

Now I maintain that, with the present average material, ever so good a mistress, with the best intelligence and intentions, cannot "make a good servant." Passable they may be; but not "good."

The truth is—brain is wanted to make a good servant; and at present there is only muscle. Hence our gas is half turned off. Hence our water is wholly turned on, till a flood comes. Hence bits of stick and string and dirt are thrown into pipes—for the benefit of the plumber, and the depletion of our pockets. Hence the devil is to pay generally, till the distracted good lady of the house considers it the last drop in the bucket, when "her Sam" or John is unreasonable enough to expect her, with such brainless material, to present him with workmanlike results.

In America, the word "servant" is hateful to them; they much prefer the word "domestic" to express the same idea. Every servant in America, with few exceptions, dresses to suit herself; and a very bad thing she generally makes of it. Some few families insist on the muslin cap for their "nurses," and the regulation black dress and white apron. But this dress is obnoxious to the majority of servants; nor do I, for one, blame them for it. A most excellent colored woman, in a family of my acquaintance, whose Northern mistress had purchased her freedom before the war, and who was beloved by every member of the family, refused to wear the colored turban-handkerchief at request of her mistress, who had a taste for the picturesque in costume, saying, with much spirit, "I cannot do it, madam,—not even for you;—it is hateful to me; it is the badge of the servitude I suffered so much under." Of course, she was excused.

Now I can understand why so few servants, in this country, white or black, are willing to wear anything that bears the interpretation of "a livery." At the same time, there is hardly a housekeeper or mistress in the land who is not annoyed by the big hoop, and the long dress, which knocks over articles, and catches in doors, and trips up the unlucky wearer in doing her housework, or waiting on table.

Of course, if she understood managing her crinoline as she moved about, as does her "mistress," these things might not happen; but she does not; and it is the biggest and stiffest that she can find that she generally prefers and wears. This is unfortunate for another reason; because it often exposes dilapidated and soiled underclothing, and a very questionable state of shoe and stocking. That her mistress, though cleanly, often dresses in questionable taste, both as regards the adaptability of her dress to the state of her husband's purse, and the artistic selection of colors, does not make these glaring mistakes of her servants less palpable, or less injurious to the servant's morality; for where the passion for show, joined to narrow means, effaces that of decency and cleanliness, the downward road to ruin, for a woman in any station, is already entered upon. It needs only a very slight impetus to determine the final result.

Alas! the showy bonnet and gay dress, which must be had by cook or chamber-maid, although they have not a decent change of underclothing, or a whole pair of stockings, a warm shawl, or a pair of India-rubbers, or the least hint of flannel for cold weather! Now, they "have a right," as they say, so to expend their wages, if they choose. They have a right also to languish on a hospital bed, among strangers, when sickness and poverty overtake them. But is it wise?

In England, the dress of servants has not hitherto, as I understand it, been a matter of choice to them. I know of an English lady who, not long since, forbade her nurse to wear a dress, which the latter had purchased, because it was like that which one of her own children wore. Servants, in England, have leaped over this form of restriction, it would seem. Among the "reforms" now proposed, there is one respecting domestic servants, whose extravagance in dress, whose depravity of morals, and unreliability of conduct is, they say, becoming "unendurable." A clergyman's wife has started a reform movement, and calls upon the ladies of England to help her carry it out. She proposes "that no servant, under pain of dismissal, shall wear flowers, feathers, brooches, buckles, or clasps, ear-rings, lockets, neck-ribbons, velvets, kid gloves, parasols, sashes, jackets, or trimming of any kind, on dresses, and, above all, no crinoline. No pads to be worn, or frizettes, or chignons, or hair ribbons. The dress is to be gored, and made just to touch the ground, and the hair to be drawn closely to the head, under a round, white cap, without trimming of any kind. The same system of dress is recommended for Sunday-school girls, school-mistresses, church-singers, and the lower orders generally." I think "the Sunday-school girls, church-singers, school-mistresses, and lower orders," in America, generally, would have to undergo a most wonderful peeling, according to this programme! I think an American "servant" would scarcely be content to be deprived of her "parasol," of a hot Sunday, when she went to church.

No, no, ladies; that's not the way to do it; not even in England, where flunkeys abound. The "lower orders" are waking up there, thank God! and I hope, to their best interests. True, it is mournful to see all a servant's wages on her head, in the shape of a gay dress-bonnet. I hate it; but I hate it for her own sake, because she needs so many comfortable things that the sum so expended would buy. And I hate, just as much, to see her mistress in a velvet cloak, which represents all her husband's earnings for one month, while there is a shabby carpet on her front entry or chamber, and "nicked" cups and saucers on her table. In fact, I think, that while the parlor sets so bad an example, the kitchen will never be swept with a clean broom.