The
appointed day arrived, and Mary found herself in company with Aunt
Grizzy at the mansion of Mr. Pullens, the fortunate husband of the
_ci-devant_ Miss Flora Macfuss; but as Grizzy is not the best of
biographers, we must take the liberty of introducing this lady to the
acquaintance of our reader.
The domestic economy of Mrs. Pullens was her own theme, and the theme of
all her friends; and such was the zeal in promulgating her doctrines,
and her anxiety to see them carried into effect, that she had
endeavoured to pass it into a law that no preserves could be eatable but
those preserved in her method; no hams could be good but those cured
according to her receipt; no liquors drinkable but such as were made
from the results of her experience; neither was it possible that any
linens could be white, or any flannels soft, or any muslins clear,
unless after the manner practised in her laundry. By her own account she
was the slave of every servant within her door, for her life seemed to
be one unceasing labour to get everything done in her own way, to the
very blacking of Mr. Pullens's shoes, and the brushing of Mr. Pullens's
coat. But then these heroic acts of duty were more than repaid by the
noble consciousness of a life well spent. In her own estimation she was
one of the greatest characters that had ever lived; for, to use her own
words, she passed nothing over--she saw everything done herself--she
trusted nothing to servants, etc.
Pages:
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563