Augustus Mayhew, The Greatest Plague of Life: or…
“ But on going into my gentleman’s room, one fine morning, upon my word, if the fat, lazy, cunning fox hadn’t crammed one of his nasty, dirty stockings into the mouth of the bell, until I declare it wouldn’t speak any more than a married lady in the sulks. So, really and truly, when I came to think of it, was it worth while for a trumpery month’s wages to let the fellow remain in the house till all my glass and crockery were broken to shivers, and my beautiful queen’s-pattern plated coffee-pot, with silver edges, was all battered in, as horribly as the pewter quart measure at a fruit-stall. ”
