ficulty with a previous
servant, with whom she has no reason to believe the narrator has had any
intercourse. So frequently does this happen that many housekeepers
religiously believe that the Irish servants are banded together in some
sort of a 'society,' in the secret conclaves of which the experiences of
each kitchen are confided to the common ear. This belief is not confined
to American housekeepers, but obtains very extensively in England also.
The arrest and punishment of a woman in London for giving a good
'character' to a dishonest servant, who subsequently robbed her
employer, naturally caused some excitement in housekeeping circles in
that city, and numerous communications to _The Times_ evinced the
feeling upon the subject. In one of these 'A Housekeeper' boldly asserts
that there are combinations among the servants, and that housekeepers
who refuse to give a certificate of good character are 'spotted,' and
find in consequence the greatest difficulty in obtaining any servants
thereafter. Indeed, she asserts that in some instances, so rigorously
does the system work, offending families have been compelled to
relinquish housekeeping, and go into lodgings or abroad, until their
offence was forgotten! The fundamental principle which our housekeepers
believe to pervade these societies is that employers are fair game; that
the servant has to expect nothing but to be oppressed, persecuted,
overworked, ground down, and taken advantage of at every opportunity,
and that it is her duty, therefore, to hold the employer at bitter
enmity, and to make the best fight she can.

Now such a belief can scarcely be termed absurd, and yet it is
unquestionably groundless. The mysterious 'understanding' of servants,
and their wide knowledge of each other's experiences, may be explained
upon a perfectly simple and rational theory, and I think we may venture
to reject the 'society' hypothesis altogether.

Servant life is as much a world in itself as political, religious, or
art life. Indeed, its inhabitants are even _more_ isolated and
self-existent than those of any other sphere, for while the politician,
theologian, and artist are generally, to some extent, under the
influence of interests and passions other than those which belong
exclusively to their special walk, the dwellers in kitchens have but the
one all-embracing sphere, and its incidents, which seem to us so
trivial, are to them as important as the great events which we th