Sunday, May 22, 1898

        It has been a week as long as a month.  First of all, I have to get up at 5 every morning to walk to work and get there by 7.  I suppose it will all get easier as time goes by, but I don’t think Mrs. Andrews will get any kinder.  The work is very hard, but I am used to that.  It’s the way she follows me around all the time, explaining things that don’t need explaining, and finding fault with everything – the way I do the corners of the sheets, the way I wash and scrub the dishes, the way I slice bread – what a fash she is!

         The master is kind to me though.  Mr. Markem is full of the news coming from South Africa.  It seems the British settlers and the Dutch settlers are at odds with each other, but I don’t know why.  He is always reading the newspaper and making comments out loud to Mrs. Markem, who doesn’t pay him any attention. 

         She is not friendly to me, and never troubles to say anything to me except to order me around.  When I try to take away the tea things before she wants a second or third cup.  Even if she looks finished I cannot be sure.  Even if I ask “Shall I clear the tea, Madam?” she doesn’t answer, but when I start to she says things like “Stupid girl, did I say I was finished?”  She’s just mean-spirited, and so is her daughter Fiona.  Mrs. Markam wants to throw a big dinner to introduce Fiona to some the eligible bachelors.  (I suppose by eligible she means rich.) 

         On Friday she told me I would also have to wash the cloths they use when they have their monthlies.  This is one of the worst parts.  My Ma and I just look after our own cloths in private, we would never tell someone else to do it for us.  I think if Fiona gets married she had better marry rich, with lots of servants, for she never lifts a finger to do anything but look after her own hair and dress herself.

         I will never see my pay, for Mr. Markam gives it to my Da when he comes for me on Sundays. My parents pick me up after they attend mass in Wick. What a luxury to ride home in the donkey cart instead of walking the four miles!  So it is another luxury for me to go home to my mother’s tea and not have to wait on others for a change.