Transcriber’s Note: This story was originally published in The CanadianMagazine of Politics, Science, Art and Literature for July, 1893.
BY M. L. CAMPBELL.
Yes; I mean what I say—an automaticmaid-of-all-work, invented bymy husband, John Matheson.
You see it was this way,—the oldstory of servants, ever since we beganhousekeeping. We’ve had every kind,and if we did get a good one, somethingwould come along to take heroff.
You know John has invented lots ofthings. There’s that door-spring now,—notmuch when you look at it butit brings in quite a little income. Heused to say that he was spending hisspare time on an automatic maid-of-all-work.Of course, I laughed, said Iwished he would, and thought no moreof it.
Well, the day the last girl left, Johnannounced that the automatic maid-of-all-workwas completed, and thathe would stay at home next day andshow me how to work it.
Of course, I didn’t believe in it.
It was a queer-looking thing, withits long arms, for all the world likeone of those old-fashioned wind-millsyou see in pictures of foreign countries.It had a face like one of thosetwenty-four hour clocks, only therewere no hands; each number wasa sort of electric button. It was runby electricity, you know. The batterywas inside. I didn’t understand itvery well; I never could see into anythingin the way of machinery; Inever pretend to listen when Johntells me about his inventions. Thefigures, as I said, were buttons, andyou just had to connect them withsome wires inside. There were a lotof wires, each for some kind of workwhich would be done at the hour indicatedby the button you connected itwith. This was handy, so that wewould not have to get up in the morningtill breakfast-time, and would behandy in lots of ways.
“Now look, Fanny,” said John; “dotry and understand how it works.You see this wire now; I’ll connect itwith button number six, and at thathour the maid will light the fire, sweepthe kitchen and then the dining-room.Now this button number seven willbe the one to set the alarm to. It willsound for about ten minutes (I’d soundit now only it makes a fearful noise);then the maid will go upstairs to turndown the beds—a convenient arrangementin many ways. Then it will godownstairs, lay the cloth for breakfast,make the tea and toast, bring in thethings, and ring the breakfast bell.You’ll have to leave all the breakfastthings on one shelf, of course, andmeasure the oatmeal and tea also. Wewon’t set any more buttons to-night.It’s just as well to be around at first tosee that all goes right. There may besome adjustment necessary.”
We went to bed then, and it wasdaylight when I awoke. I was consciousof a peculiar whirring noise,but I hadn’t got thoroughly awakenedwhen I heard the most awful screamsand thumps, and the two boys camerunning into our room in their night-dresses,and after them the automaticmaid-of-all-work.
By this time I was out of bed, butJohn sleeps very soundly. He startedas the maid jerked the bed-clothesdown and laid them over the foot-board,but he wasn’t quick enough. Ittook him under the arm. It had anawful grip, too,—and laid him acrossthe foot-board, after giving him a[395]thump or two, as I do the pillows.(John had watched me do it and hadthe thing to perfection. He didn’tsuppose it would be tried on him,though). He didn’t seem quite preparedfor such a performance, for heflounced around so that he and thebed-clothe