The maid goes into the drawing room, and approaches the lady of the house.
"Madame, I beg jur pardon," she says to the lady, "but I tink it
time fer me to haf a race!"
"My goodness, Maria," says the lady of the house. "What is
it that makes you think you should have a raise?"
"Vell," says Maria, "I tink I am better dan jou at ironing,
folding the clothes and putting them away."
"What in the world makes you think that, Maria?" asks the lady of
the house. "Besides, it's your job. Not mine."
"Vell, jou husband say dat," answers Maria.
"Hmmmm," says the lady of the house, somewhat perturbed, lips pursed. "And, what else makes you think you deserve a raise?"
"Vell," says Maria, "I tink I am much better dan jou at
cooking!"
"Is that so? When I have to, I think I cook very well."
The maid shook her head.
"And how did you arrive at this conclusion?" asks the lady of the
house, staring at her maid, obviously upset at the conversation.
"Vell, jou husband say dat," replies Maria.
"OK, OK! Any more reasons why you think you should get a raise?" asks
the lady of the house, clenching her fists.
"Vell," says Maria quietly. Leaning towards the lady of the
house, she whispers into her ear, "I tink I am better dan jou in de
bed!"
"And I suppose my husband told you that, too?" says the lady of
the house with a raised voice, chin lifted.
"Oh no, no, Madame," says Maria. "Dat vas de gartner who say
dat. And—"
"Never mind, dear. How big a raise do you want?"
