Music/Humor
And So I Must Take My Leave of Lady Margaret’s Farm
A character in a Jane Austen novel decides that they ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more (with apologies to Bob Dylan)
Though my employ has lasted only a few weeks, I am afraid I have reached my limit of the intolerable behavior on display at Lady Margaret’s farm, and am left with no option but to tender my resignation.
I must say that Lady Margaret has treated me most atrociously. She has assigned me no tasks but those far beneath my station — it is a source of the most rank indignity that I must daily scrub her floor. Every morning I find myself entreating the heavens for the sort of foul weather that might bring the entire household to a standstill, that I might perhaps steal a moment’s rest. I believe that it is impossible that I may remain in the employ of Lady Margaret’s farm.
If Lady Margaret herself were not enough, I find her family most abominable. Her brother is an impertinent fellow who, upon our first meeting, seemed most friendly; it was with a charming smile that he asked me how I got on here, and when I answered (for I was not then in the same dark frame of mind in which I now find myself) that I was well enough, he handed me a coin as if for a tip. But now he comes to me at all hours to demand fines! Fees for small inconveniences he claims to have suffered from my doing, such as one day when he complained that I had closed a door too loudly. No, I am afraid I can be in this man’s presence no longer, and therefore I must tender my resignation to Lady Margaret’s farm.
At first I found it admirable that Lady Margaret let her aged father stay on at her farm even as he reached senescence, however the behavior to which I have borne witness has been appalling. I have witnessed him attempting to extinguish his pipe on the persons of various guests and employees of the farm. He has sometimes walled himself in his room with bricks, and would that he would stay there! Lady Margaret should station a military regiment outside his door to make sure he never leaves! No, I am quite certain I can remain at Lady Margaret’s farm no longer.
Lady Margaret’s mother is no better than her husband. She speaks in most serious tones to all and sundry about the king and about God, all of it utter nonsense. Yet her faculties are clear, much clearer than her husband’s; it is her wicked mind that finds amusement from tormenting her listeners. It would not surprise me to learn if some of Lady Margaret’s father’s more vexing abuses had originated in the mind of her mother. Perhaps most infuriating is her insistence that we all treat her as if she is a young lady fresh from her debut, this despite her advanced age and obvious decrepitude. I see no option but to leave Lady Margaret’s farm for good.
For all these reasons and more, I cannot continue at Lady Margaret’s farm. I have always taken pride in my self-direction: I would be as I am, and will not alter for anyone’s vain whims. But in this house, all concerned wish me to become as they are, and this I will not countenance. And so I must bid farewell to Lady Margaret’s farm, and woe to whatever unfortunate soul takes my place there.
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