THEY were not foreordained from all eternity to be sworn enemies. Could that fact be impressed on the mind of each, there would be less friction between them.

Where, in this day and in this country, is found the family servant who follows the fortunes of her employers through adversity and evil report, asking only to be allowed to live among those who have shown her kindness, who have taught her all she knows, and who have been kinder to her than her own family have been? She may exist in the imagination of the optimistic novelist,—but not in reality. Once in a great while such a servant, well-advanced in life, is found,—but she is a rara avis.

On the other hand, it should be remembered that the burden of blame and of responsibility for improvement rest with the woman of larger opportunity. If we heard considerably more of “the mistress problem,” we should probably hear less of the servant one.

It is trite to say that in this country the servant matter is all askew. We know that, and it is incumbent on us to make the best of matters as we find them. To do this both mistress and maid should be impressed with the fact expressed in the opening sentence of this chapter. As matters now are, the maid sees in the mistress a possible tyrant, one who will exact the pound of flesh, and, if the owner thereof be not on her guard, will insist on a few extra ounces thrown in for good measure. The mistress sees in the suspicious girl a person who will, if the chance be offered her, turn against her employer, will do the smallest amount of work possible for the highest wages she can demand; break china, smash glass, shut her eyes to dirt in the corners, and accept the first opportunity that offers itself to leave her present place and get one that demands fewer duties and larger pay.

One of the great mistakes of the mistress is that she lets the state of affairs greatly disturb her. Why should she? The maid is not “her own kind,” and the woman is wrong who judges the uneducated, ill-reared hireling by the rules that govern the better-educated classes. The servant and the employer have been reared in different worlds, and to ignore this fact is folly. How often do we see the mistress “hurt” because of Norah’s lack of consideration for her and her time, and vexed because the servant fails to appreciate any kindness shown her? Let her accept the condition of affairs as what the slangy boy would call “part of the game,” and not waste God-given nerve and energy in worrying over it. If she gets reasonably good return in work for the wages she pays, she should be content.

If a woman’s maid does something wrong or omits a duty, however important, if guests are present the mistake should be remedied as quietly as possible and without reproof. To rebuke a servant before others is a great unkindness to her and needlessly embarrasses the visitor.

The mistress should not expect a friend and counselor in the maid. Once in a while, one meets a servant who, by some accident, is capable of discerning the refinement of nature in her employer, and of respecting it. In this case, she will care more for the employer for knowing that she is trusted. It is a fact that, by appealing to the best in human nature—be that nature American, Irish, German or Scandinavian—we elicit the best from our fellow creatures. Let the mistress, then, try to believe in the good intentions of her servant, or, if she can not really believe in them, let her attempt to do so. Her attitude of mind will, unconsciously to herself, make itself felt upon her helper. Let her take it for granted that the “new girl” means to stay, is honest, trustworthy and anxious to please, and let her talk to her as if all these things were foregone conclusions. She may show by gentle manner and kindly consideration that Norah or Gretchen is a sister-woman, not a machine. If a washing or ironing happens to be heavy, let her suggest a simple dessert of fruit, instead of the pudding that had been planned. And if the maid’s heavy eyes and forced smile show that she is not well, let the mistress, for a brief moment, put herself in the place of the hireling, and think what she would want done for her under similar circumstances. She will then suggest that some of the work that can be deferred be laid aside until the following day, or offer to give a hand in making the beds or dusting the rooms.

“But,” declares the systematic housewife, “I do not hire a servant,—and then do my housework!”

No! Neither did you hire your maid-of-all-work to be a sick nurse,—but were you ill it would be she who would cook your meals, carry up your tray and take care of you, unless you were so ill as to need the services of a trained attendant. Bear this in mind, and show the maid that you do bear it in mind.

It is a more difficult matter to get the servant to look at the subject from this standpoint. She has not been educated to regard things from both sides. It is the custom of her cult to meet and, in conclave assembled, to compare the faults, foibles and failings of their employers. And when they do commend an employer for kind treatment it is, as a rule, only to make the lot of another servant look darker by contrast with the bright one depicted.

“Oh, me dear!” exclaims Bridget on entering Norah’s kitchen at eight-thirty in the evening and finding her still washing dishes. “And is this the hour that a poor hard-working girl is kept up to wash the dinner-things? There are no such doin’s in my kitchen, I tell ye! My lady knows that I ain’t made of iron, and she knows, too, that I would not put up with such an imposition!”

The fact that Norah’s mistress has helped her all day with the work, that she is herself the victim of unexpected company, that she regrets as much as Norah can that the unavoidable detention at the office of the master of the house has made dinner later than usual, does not deter the suddenly-enlightened girl from feeling herself a martyr, and the seed of hate and distrust is quick to bear fruit in an offensive manner and a sulky style of speech.

She does not pause to take into consideration that, while she may just now be doing extra work, she also receives daily extra kindnesses and consideration that were not agreed upon in the contract of her hire.

There are just two rules that make the relations of mistress and maid tolerable or pleasant. One is that everything be put on a purely business basis—an arrangement hardly practical in domestic labor. The other rule, and the better, is that a little practical Christianity be brought into the relationship,—that the maid do her best, cheerfully and willingly, and that the mistress treat her in the same spirit, giving her little pleasures when it is within her power to do so, trying to smooth the rough places, and to make crooked things straight. Then, let each respect the other and make the best of the situation. If it is intolerable, it may be changed. If not intolerable, let each remember that there is no law, human or divine, that demands that the contract stand forever—and let each dissolve the partnership when she wishes to do so. Until this is done, mistress and maid should keep silence as to the faults of the other, trying to see rather the virtues than the failings of a sister-woman.

I wish that some word of mine with regard to this matter could sink into the mind of the mistress. I fear that it will never be possible to train the maid not to talk of her mistress to her friends. But the employer should be above discussing her servants with outsiders. This is one of the most glaring faults of conversation,—one of the most flagrant breaches of conversational etiquette among women of refinement. The hackneyed warning that the three D’s to be banished from polite conversation are Dress, Disease and Domestics, has not been heeded by the average housewife, so far as the last D is concerned. She will fill willing and unwilling ears with the account of her servants’ impertinences, of their faults, of how they are leaving without giving warning, and of how ungrateful all servants are, until one would think that her own soul was not above that of the laundress, chambermaid and cook, whose failings she dissects in public. Such talk reminds one of the conversation with which Bridget regales an admiring and indignant coterie. With the uneducated hireling, it may be pardonable; in the case of the educated employer it is inexcusable.

The best-trained servants say “Yes, madam,” instead of “Yes, ma’am.” In England women as well as men servants are addressed by their surnames. The custom does not commend itself to our American ideas.

Women who keep only one maid should, if possible, have the laundry work done out of the house. Only so can one be sure of a trim-looking servant to answer the door. And the appearance of the person who admits us to a house is taken, very justly, as a criterion of the domestic standards of the house. A popular novelist once divided the houses in a certain city into three classes: those that had maids, those that had maids without caps, and those who had maids with caps. A woman’s social standing need not depend on her having a maid at all,—she may “quite come to her own door,” as one snobbish woman puts it, but if she keep a maid, the maid should be properly dressed, and the cap is as essential a part of her dress as her apron.