But one lock and a half in the whole house.
The key of the garden door lost.
The empty bottles all uncleanable.
The vessels for drink few and leaky.
The new house all going to ruin before it is finished.
One hinge of the street door broke off, and the people forced to go
out and come in at the back-door.
The door of the Dean's bed-chamber full of large chinks.
The beaufet letting in so much wind that it almost blows out the
candles.
The Dean's bed threatening every night to fall under him.
The little table loose and broken in the joints.
The passages open over head, by which the cats pass continually into
the cellar, and eat the victuals; for which one was tried, condemned,
and executed by the sword.
The large table in a very tottering condition.
But one chair in the house fit for sitting on, and that in a very
ill state of health.
The kitchen perpetually crowded with savages.
Not a bit of mutton to be had in the country.
Want of beds, and a mutiny thereupon among the servants, till
supplied from Kells.
An egregious want of all the most common necessary utensils.
Not a bit of turf in this cold weather; and Mrs. Johnson[46] and the
Dean in person, with all their servants, forced to assist at the bog,
in gathering up the wet bottoms of old clamps.
The grate in the ladies' bed-chamber broke, and forced to be
removed, by which they were compelled to be without fire; the chimney
smoking intolerably; and the Dean's great-coat was employed to stop the
wind from coming down the chimney, without which expedient they must
have been starved to death.
A messenger sent a mile to borrow an old broken tun-dish.
Bottles stopped with bits of wood and tow, instead of corks.
Not one utensil for a fire, except an old pair of tongs, which
travels through the house, and is likewise employed to take the meat
out of the pot, for want of a flesh-fork.
Every servant an arrant thief as to victuals and drink, and every
comer and goer as arrant a thief of everything he or she can lay their
hands on.
The spit blunted with poking into bogs for timber, and tears the
meat to pieces.
Bellum atque foeminam: or, A kitchen war between nurse and a
nasty crew of both sexes; she to preserve order and cleanliness, they
to destroy both; and they generally are conquerors.
April 28. This morning the great fore-door quite open,
dancing backwards and forwards with all its weight upon the lower
hinge, which must have been broken if the Dean had not accidentally
come and relieved it.
A great hole in the floor of the ladies' chamber, every hour
hazarding a broken leg.
Two damnable iron spikes erect on the Dean's bedstead, by which he
is in danger of a broken shin at rising and going to bed.
The ladies' and Dean's servants growing fast into the manners and
thieveries of the natives; the ladies themselves very much corrupted;
the Dean perpetually storming, and in danger of either losing all his
flesh, or sinking into barbarity for the sake of peace.
Mrs. Dingley[47] full of cares for herself, and blunders and
negligence for her friends. Mrs. Johnson sick and helpless. The Dean
deaf and fretting; the lady's maid awkward and clumsy; Robert lazy and
forgetful; William a pragmatical, ignorant, and conceited puppy; Robin
and nurse the two great and only supports of the family.
Bellum lacteum: or, The milky battle, fought between the Dean
and the crew of Quilca; the latter insisting on their privilege of not
milking till eleven in the forenoon; whereas Mrs. Johnson wanted milk
at eight for her health. In this battle the Dean got the victory; but
the crew of Quilca begin to rebel again; for it is this day almost ten
o'clock, and Mrs. Johnson hath not got her milk.
A proverb on the laziness and lodgings of the servants: “The worse
their sty—the longer they lie.”[48]
Two great holes in the wall of the ladies' bed-chamber, just at the
back of the bed, and one of them directly behind Mrs. Johnson's pillow,
either of which would blow out a candle in the calmest day.