for writers and readers….
Mrs Finnegan is a celebrated EXPERT on MOST things and WELCOMES letters from all, no matter HOW grand or LOWLY. She does ALL this while still maintaing her daily duties as Housekeeper at The Regency Town House
My daughter paints ugly water colours, speaks French badly and Italian still worse. She has as much ear for music as a three day old red mullet.
The backs of my chairs and the frames upon my walls are, for good reason, empty of her needlework.
I come from a long line of strong-minded women of talent. My grandmother wrought the whole Bible in tapestry before her death at 81 and was the last woman in Sussex to denouce a neighbour for witchcraft. My mother was accomplished in meat carving and reading sermons to farm workers. I, myself, need only to hear a mumbled description in heraldic language to conjure up an entire coat of arms.
My daughter shows ability in one field only: looking innocent and writing spiteful little notes to the servants.
What do you make of her, Mrs Finnegan?
A Mother Hard Done BY and Sorely Irritated
It strikes me that the acorn hasn’t fallen far from the tree.
POOR dear Brutus is still missing.
We hardly know his master Daniel Dapper Esq, but everyone in Brunswick Square has fallen in love with his dog.
Miss Martha, an ardent animal lover, was GREATLY distressed and organised parties of young ladies to go door to door around Brunswick Square and Terrace asking residents to check their coal cupboards and stock rooms.
The day after he vanished an advertisement appeared in The Brighton Gazette.
LOST from Brunswick Square a remarkable Newfoundland of large build and noble disposition. He is unlikely to be of use to any but his owner. If coming into the possession of a gentleman he is relied upon to restore said animal to his home but if he wandered into the hands of a servant or poor person all reasonable expenses will be paid with a reward of half a Guinea.
Half a guinea could feed a family for a week, I said to Master Talbot and regretted it as soon as the words fell from my mouth.
He has been a regular visitor recently and not only to me, but to several houses in Brunswick Square where he has become acquainted with the cook or housekeeper. He said he needed scraps for his sister’s hound lately delivered of a litter and would be grateful for anything we could spare.
We had never heard of a sister or dog before and I noticed he was not wearing his good green frock coat. A tired old thing with greasey cuffs and see-through elbows had taken its place on his broad back.
We conferred and agreed that Mr Owen Merryweather Talbot was going through impecunious TIMES. As a result, scraps have become larger and better. (…Tut, tut. These slices of roast beef are cluttering up the larder. Please do me a kindness and take them away.)
And all the time Brutus is still missing.
MRS FINNEGAN is a regular feature created and written by Bridget Whelan with the support of a WONDERFUL team of volunteers at The Regency Town House, along with the MOST charming of readers and subscribers. Today a special THANK YOU to Paul Couchman
Don’t miss next Tuesday’s thrilling episode. Will the dog be found? Is Master Talbot really hungry?
Need a reminder? Just click HERE and you’ll get a gentle nudge on Tuesday morning.
Not too early. We don’t go out until the streets are well-aired.