it in turns."

The new plans were of course--as what taking place in a family is
not--discussed in full conclave that evening over the kitchen fire.

The servants all came back and assembled round it preparatory to washing
up and going to bed; for though it was summer and warm weather, what
servant in the world does not enjoy the kitchen fire in the evening, be
the weather what it may? And, to tell truth, there are not a few in the
parlor, who usually would be glad to share the privilege; but to
proceed.

"Well, Thomas, how do _you_ like these new ways of going on?" asked
Mary, the serious, stiff, time-dried, and smoke-dyed head-laundress--a
personage of unknown antiquity, and who had been in the family ever
since it was a family--addressing the fine powdered gentleman in silk
stockings, and pink, white, and silver livery, who leaned negligently
against the chimney-piece.

"For my part, I'm glad, indeed, to see serious ways taken up in this
house; but how will it suit the rest of you? And especially you, my fine
young gentleman?"

"Why," answered Thomas, assuming a grave and thoughtful aspect, "I'm
going to confess something which will, perhaps, astonish you, Mistress
Mary--and thus it is--if I'd been told twelve months ago that such new
regulations were to be introduced into this household, I have very great
doubts whether I could have made up my mind to have submitted to them;
but within these few hours, d'ye see, there's been a change."

"Bravo, Thomas!" said the butler; "a conversion like--I've heard of such
things in my time."

"Call it what you will, Mr. Buckminster, I call it a change--for a
change there has been."

"What! well! what!" from different voices round. "Do tell us all about
it."

"Why, Charles, you were there; and Mr. Buckminster, you were there too.
But Charles is young and giddy; and Mr. Buckminster being always rather
of the serious order, very probably the effect you see was not produced
so strongly upon either of them as upon me."

"What effect? Well--"

"Why of the grace, as was said before they sat down to dinner."

"The grace! Was it the first time you ever heard grace said, you booby?"

"Yes, I'd heard grace said--I should suppose as often as any as may be
here--though, perhaps, not so sensible to its importance and value as
some present, meaning you, Mistress Mary. The general, for one, never
used to omit it; but, save us! in what a scuffling careless manner it
was said. I