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COPYRIGHT; 9 ge samme 
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 1883. 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 
 
—GPRERFATORY.8- 
 
 Tue belief that a book whose scope is suggested by the title 
 of the present volume will be of great value and interest to 
 all, is the reason why this work has been given to the public. 
 It is not the effort of one individual, but of many gleaners in the 
 field which it explores. It has been compiled from various 
 reliable sources, and treats wholly upon facts. It is believed 
 that it is the only book of its kind that has been published, and 
 the compiler trusts that it will be found helpful to those who 
 are seeking positions of usefulness, and valuable to those who 
 are already established, while to those fortunate ones who do 
 not need to step beyond the horizon of home, it will give a 
 deeper interest in “ Woman’s Work,” and cause them to feel 
 a@ personal pride in her labor and achievements. 
 
 “What cana woman do?” Forty-three or forty-four years 
 ago Miss Harriet Martineau is reported to have said that, in 
 Massachusetts, one of the most highly civilized and advanced 
 communities in the world, there were but seven industries open 
 to women who wanted to work. They might keep boarders, or 
 set type, or tedch needlework, or tend looms in cotton mills, or 
 fold and stitch in book binderies. This statement was rather 
 
 _ too restrictive, because there were other forms of labor open to 
 them, especially those of the needle. But there is no doubt 
 
 ties of self-support for women by honest indus- 
 3 % 
 
lv PREFATORY. 
 
 try in some other way than that of domestic service were very 
 few and very limited. In the State of Massachusetts, which 
 was the scene of Miss Martineau’s reputed observation, it is now 
 announced that there are two hundred and eighty-four occupa- 
 tions open to women, instead of seven, and that 251,158 women 
 are earning their own living in these occupations, receiving from 
 $150 to $3,000 every year. This computation does not include 
 amateurs, or mothers and daughters in the household, and of 
 course excludes domestic service. 
 
 As new occupations for women are continually becoming 
 available, some well known professions are omitted from this 
 volume to make room for newer and more responsible ones. 
 The writer has endeavored to illustrate the many employments 
 given, by facts and curious incidents gathered from various 
 sources and from personal observation, thus making the work 
 peculiarly interesting, instructive, and amusing. 
 
 In “Women as Poets,” will be found some of the rarest and 
 choicest poems in the English language, and in many instances 
 the biographical note was contributed especially for this vol- 
 ume by the author of the poem selected, thus furnishing 
 much reliable information not to be found elsewhere. So many 
 pure and beautiful thoughts in rhyme, which have echoed and 
 re-echoed throughout the world, making it better for their 
 being, must add to the value of the book. The kingdom of 
 home has not been overlooked; the aim of the writer—indeed 
 the great object of the work—is to elevate and glorify the hum- 
 blest home, and it is her earnest wish that “ What Can a Woman 
 Do” may be found a welcome visitor into every home in the 
 land, there to accomplish its mission of usefulness and instruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Detroit, Oct. 15, 1883. 
 
—8C ONTENTS .& 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Pace 
 
 Woman’s Work—The Initiative Step—Business Education—Training 
 Ts ie A tk ons oii olan dis we ade Saees war dseeveceveds 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Average Wages in New York and Elsewhere—Women as Hotel 
 Clerks—Departments of Business in which Women are Engaged— 
 at ak Sy WinW'vle <ul Anon a cedcg ease adedeveseus 
 
 * CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Profession of Literature—Women Famous in Literature—How to 
 get a Manuscript Published—How the Author of ‘We Girls” 
 Writes her Books—Mrs. Rosa Hartwick Thorpe............ pals 
 
 a 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 tes 
 
 J ournalism—The Lady Journalist—Ethics of Jour- 
 
 The Profession of 
 nalism—Lady Reporters—A Woman’s Success as Manager of a 
 
 Newspaper—The First Newspaper Conducted by Women—The 
 First Magazine Edited by Women—Pioneer Women in Journal- 
 
 ism—Lucy POO. Ka ve alvieil a Re MSA Wo Wome viele ke Ah we aoe eae 8 wm 
 5 
 
 il 
 
 18 
 
 25 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 PacE 
 The Profession of Law—A Law for the Married Woman—Indiana 
 Legislation—How the Law Protects Women in Michigan—Mrs. 
 Ellen Judith Fostér, Lady Lawyer. =. ..:.0s:+ «5.50 sees eee 54 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Profession of Medicine—The Woman Doctor—Interesting Statis- 
 tics—Amusing Incidents—The Lady Physician (Poem)—A Physio- 
 logical Proposal—To a Lady Doctor (Poem)—Requisites for a 
 Physician .; 55s 0s. 69 sie'e'ss iba eet ala ale piv ne cone musth aaaie nn 65 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Profession of Music—Neglected Music—Twice in Love—Playing 
 on Old Pianos—Music in the German Schools—What Four Ladies 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Government Clerks—Postoffice Clerk—How One Woman Got into the 
 
 Department... /i. <5. cs 00's ap oe ei ie pe a 9t- 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A Lady Government Official—The Garden (Poem)...............-00- 99 | 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Women of Enterprise—A Pioneer—Honor to whom Honor is Due— 
 A Successful Business—Women as Dentists—The First Lady 
 Dentist—Commercial Travelers—Type Setting—Proof Reading— 
 Women as Inventors... .. os canshe ose) a Vee LpURS Ge 104 
 
CONTENTS. vil 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 PAGE 
 Coloring Photographs—How to Sell Her Work—How Shall She Obtain 
 Orders—Renewing Old Portraits—Women as Photographers—How 
 the Baby’s Picture Was Taken (Poem)........ Rea anne tate ed vise 120 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Women as Wood Engravers—Term of Apprenticeship—Mrs. General 
 puercan—- VW omen in Art... 5... aces cecsceeecs Became ok ails 180 
 
 CHAPTER XIIl. 
 
 The Profession of Telegraphy—How Skilled Labor Remunerates 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Lady Book Canvassers—Other Agencies........... Ae ey MEG GHY * 7.. 144 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Art and Industrial Exchanges—Something for Woman to Do—A Lady 
 who Earns $10,000 a Year from Preserves and Pickles—Purchas- 
 ing Agencies—Mending and Darning—Ready NY TICBDE sy aie ah so slew 149 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The Profession of Elocution—The Study of Elocution—The Thousand- 
 RT MEME IOC CT ea) ek dsl Wels See qvck aks easy cleecames cues 159 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Memereerrrmemnn OF INULBING. 3 vais cw bc ccs occas ceeeiiee ees RRL AT as ake 169 
 
viil CONTENTS. 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Gardening—A Strawberry Farm—What One Woman Did............ 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Raising Poultry—Does Poultry Pay—Money in Eggs—Two Women in 
 Business—Value of the Poultry Business.............ceecececees 185 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Bee Keeping—Suitable Employment for Women—Progressive Bee 
 Culture, Past, Present and Prospective—Traveling Bees—A Car 
 Load of Bees—Five Hundred Pounds from One Colony—Super- 
 stitions about Bees—Telling the Bees (Poem)................+.-- 193 
 
 CHAPTER. XXI. 
 
 Dressmakers and Dressmaking—The Dressmaker’s Question Chart— 
 Plain Sewing—The Etiquette of Dressmaking—Broidery Work 
 (POET) .0..0 0.3 00 Sa sinh cm ke eae eee eet ene a a's eae eee 210 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The Housekeeper—Unpaid Workers—Keep an Account—Rules and 
 Regulations for the Household (Poem)—Woman’s Invisible Work— 
 Why Not Save Mother (Poem), -. 0... 3, ous ews seen ene 220 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 A Good Manager—How a Working Girl Lives............ as) ale eee eee 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The Science of Cookery—Training School for Cooks—The Cooking 
 School Dress—Ideal Kitchens—Mrs. Garfield on Bread Making— 
 Cook Instead of ‘Clerk: «2. isc<0. execs ss een Oren PAPE TOC oe 
 
CONTENTS. — hs 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 PaGE 
 
 eo as 'g ge a's sie a Vo t,o imiaiv ins a. Sulbingie. wc els oan as 261 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 NRE Tt Sigil VA cus ena caves seudeves tvsieacveadsnenece 268 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Pierre © MMe? BOATder. . 2. ee het ee cece ene s ee enacenees 276 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The Value of Personal Appearance—Eloquence of Dress—The Other 
 Extreme—A Business Dress—Dress Reformers............... eee 285 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The Kingdom of Home—The Influence of the Wife and Mother—An 
 Ideal Woman (Poem)—Home Education—Happy Slumbers—The 
 Value of Mother—My Mother’s Hymn—Feeding the Sick—The 
 Girl in the Household—Secret of a True Life—The ‘* Little 
 ee is becca ees hs coeve veeeeae Le wun tiehweee Ces os 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Women as Poets—Battle Hymn of the Republic—Rock Me to Sleep— 
 Answer to Rock Me to Sleep—Kentucky Belle—Death and the 
 Youth—After the Ball—Lament of the Irish Emigrant—On the 
 
 - Shores of Tennessee—Nearer, My God, to Thee—Labor is Wor- 
 ship—The Youthful Pilot—Over the River—If—Sent to Heaven— 
 Somebody’s Darling—Driving Home the Cows—The Old Arm 
 Chair—Philip, my King—Gethsemane—Measuring the Baby— 
 Faith and Reason—Requiescam—Hannah Binding Shoes—Curfew 
 Must Not Ring To-Night—The Guest—The Voice of the Poor— 
 The Better Land—Gone is Gone, and Dead is Dead—The Two 
 Mysteries—Heartbreak Hill—The High Tide on the Coast of 
 Lincolnshire, 1571—The Sleep—Only Waiting—Life—Prayer of 
 Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots—The Gray Swan—Happy Women— 
 “Life, I Know Not What Thou Art ”—Robin Adair— Knocking— 
 The Early . Blue-Bird—Released—The Land of the Leal,........ 311 
 
x CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 PacEr 
 The Mother. Begins 23. 4.:5 ess. 2 sarnalee areas eo 894 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 Delicate Sympathy... 60. cc. oscae cue sha wees oe tem le ote ee ee 403 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 The Cheerful Member’. :\.. 44.400 calcenwas ole wk cok ple eke ee 408 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 Education and Manners of Our Girls +. s.7).454cc00b eee eee 414 
 CHAPTER XXXYV. 
 The Model Girl ....0.. 4 sscswone vane dvs sae ea ae kee 419 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 The Manners of Our Boys ,.. 6... c7c.su.senbmaeekene a ene 424. 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 A Profession for Our Boys ......... ve seco ws a s'0 #ire sida eee ee 432 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 The Good Wife ...... 0.055055 004s 0s cule w pie niles a's 50 'ie nein 487 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 The Good Father: i... ic23.000 cues cabs nv nleb eels eee Ooi ee 445 
 
 TOILET MEDICINES. 
 
 Female Beauty—A Handsome Form—How to Obtain a Handsome 
 Form—How to Acquire a Bright and Smooth Skin—Artificial 
 Means—Beauty of Elasticity—A Beautiful Face—How to Obtain 
 a Beautiful Complexion—Habits which Destroy the Complexion— 
 Paints and Powders—Beautiful Eyes—Beautiful Mouth and Lips 
 —A Beautiful Hand—A Beautiful Foot and Ankle—Beauty of the 
 Voice—Beauty of Deportment—Beauty of Dress—Beauty of Orna- 
 ments—Importance of Hair as an Ornament—How to Obtain a 
 Good Head of Hair—To Prevent the Hair from Falling Off—To 
 Prevent the Hair from Turning Gray—How to Soften and Beautify 
 the Hair—To Remove Superfluous Hair—How to Color Gray 
 Hair—Habits which Destroy Beautiful Hair—Blemishes to Beauty 462 
 
—sC HAPTER Lee 
 
 Weman’s x Werk, 
 
 *«'The hand that rocks the cradle moves the world.” 
 
 A woman cannot do the thing she ought. 
 Which means, whatever perfect thing she can 
 In life, in art, in science, but she fears 
 
 To let the perfect action take her part 
 
 And rest there; she must prove what she can do 
 Before she does it.” Aurora LEIGH. 
 
 S LESSED, says Carlyle, ‘‘blessed is 
 he who has found his work; let him 
 seek no other blessedness.’’ Equally 
 blessed is the woman who has found 
 her work. Life is, indeed, a burden 
 to one who, day after day, must 
 plod for a mere existence at some 
 (8 work for which there is no special adaptation, 
 
 - but it is peculiarly trying and discouraging to 
 
 a woman, who cannot choose for herself the 
 
 profession or vocation in life which will give 
 
 her the most pleasure to follow in the toilsome 
 effort of winning her own bread. ‘‘ We all 
 know,” says a popular writer on these topics, 
 
 ‘‘how much happier that woman is, who can 
 
 cheerfully take up the work she likes, than 
 
 the one who toils daily at uncongenial employ- 
 
12 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ment.’? The only remedy for this evil is to choose when 
 youth, free hearts and minds, leisure and means are all 
 within demand, yielding their best to educate these 
 young women in some specialty, by which they may 
 support themselves when it is necessary. It is a great 
 mistake in the management of children when the boys 
 only are educated to become self-helpers, while the girls 
 are taught to write gracefully, acquire various accom- 
 plishments, do a little light housework, and fit them- 
 selves to live as merely ornamental members of society. 
 A girl is not expected to earn anything, while a boy, 
 even if he already has a fortune, must be proficient in 
 some trade or profession, or he is not considered of much 
 account. At least he must know enough to be able to 
 invest his own money with prudence. 
 
 Now take the world as we find it. Are not the major- 
 ity of the women in a community in great need of some 
 money-making talent? How many do we know in the 
 average society of even a prosperous village who have a 
 competency provided for them, with no thought or care 
 of their own except to spend it prudently. Would not 
 a great deal of the small pinching and distressing priva- 
 tion be done away with, if every woman had her own 
 private purse, with which to supplement the money sup- 
 plied to her for household expenses, and which is often 
 so inadequate? Orif, when thrown suddenly on her own 
 resources, she has the faculty of doing one thing well, 
 shall she hesitate between the honest labor of her own 
 hands, and the doled-out bread of charitable relatives % 
 The day has gone by when a woman who enters any pur- 
 suit of industry loses caste. If our great grandfathers 
 
WOMAN’S WORK. 13 
 
 could revisit the earth, what would astonish them quite as 
 much as the telegraph, railroads, telephone, and the elec- 
 tric lights, is the position that woman has taken and is 
 so nobly sustaining under all these difficulties of non- 
 fitness and lack of business education. It might not sur- 
 prise them so much to find lady cashiers, lady bankers, 
 lady clerks, but what would they say to women lectur- 
 ing in public and filling great halls, to women preaching 
 in the pulpit and filling pastorates, to women as school 
 commissioners, women appointed by governors to respon- 
 sible positions on commissions of charities, prisons and 
 reformatory institutions, to women as practicing physi- 
 cians, counseling with the wisest of the faculty of the 
 opposite sex. If they could see these facts as they are, 
 the results would not astonish them so much as the 
 indomitable courage and perseverance which led them 
 through difficulties which were almost insurmountable. 
 
 THE INITIATIVE STEP. 
 
 How to educate young girls so that they can become 
 efficient co-workers with their brothers in the commer- 
 cial walks of life, is a question that must interest every 
 mother in the country to-day. It isa perplexing ques- 
 tion, because every mother naturally dreads the ordeal 
 of a business experience for the young girl just budding 
 into womanhood, who has no idea of the hardships of 
 life. If the mother has been a woman of ‘broad experi- 
 ence there willbe little for the daughter to unlearn; 
 she will not be hampered at every step by a dread of 
 Mrs. Grundy, and even though her field of observation 
 has been limited to the happy circumscribed walls of 
 
14 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 home, she will have no narrow prejudices or small bigo- 
 tries of character to overcome; a brilliant coterie of women | 
 has led the way into new fields, where a woman working 
 for her daily bread need feel no shame or embarrassment, 
 or trammel herself unnecessarily with the set formulas 
 of a dead past. The world is full of women who must 
 work or starve, and if is for these women particularly 
 that a liberal education is desired—one that will lead to 
 their advancement in a pecuniary way. There are true 
 womanly women, who may not have another opportu- 
 nity of making themselves a home, for whom providence 
 has furnished no mate—women who are denied marriage, 
 or who prefer a life of single independence to taking up 
 with one lame offer; or, it may be, they are already mar- 
 ried, but have no taste or strength for domestic work, 
 and prefer to bear the mutual burden in their own way. 
 There are other women who have time from the duties 
 and obligations of housework to earn a little pin money, 
 and turn an honest penny, for their own profit. There 
 are several hundred different methods by which a woman 
 can earn her own livelihood, and she should study them 
 at her leisure, and educate herself in that one for which 
 she is the best adapted. Shedoes not require the genius 
 of a Napoleon to succeed in any one of them; very ordi- 
 nary qualities can be grafted and improved on the tree 
 of knowledge; much depends on the earnestness of pur- 
 pose and power of concentration which she brings to her 
 work. 7 
 BUSINESS EDUCATION. 
 
 It is an established truth, that a woman who is compe- - 
 
 tent in any one branch of business will always find a 
 
WOMAN’S WORE. 15 
 
 situation open to her, if she seeks it. In a contest, 
 skilled labor will always succeed, against the assump- 
 tions and pretences of ignorance. 
 
 _ “He is thrice armed who has his quarrel just;’’ so she, 
 who can demand work in return for a diploma of merit, 
 is the most likely to succeed in the struggle for place. 
 The experience of education in any sphere of labor gives 
 preparatory strength to achieve laudable results. True, 
 it involves much arduous and patient endeavor to attain 
 such a position, but once there half the battle is fought. 
 
 Among the many female applicants for work, there is 
 no class more dreaded than that of reduced ladies. 
 Why? Because they have no specialty. The higher 
 education and many accomplishments of the poor gen- 
 tlewoman only add to her embarrassments and leave her 
 but one profession—that of teacher. It may be of music 
 or embroidery, or an infant school, for any of which she 
 is unfitted by either nature or inclination. The number 
 of incompetent women who attempt to conduct a busi- 
 ness they know absolutely nothing about, is almost 
 incredible, and they work harder, to make ignominious 
 failures, than the educated woman does to succeed. But 
 in one sense they are themselves educators; they are 
 many of them pioneers in the work they have chosen, 
 and their mistakes serve as warnings to other women 
 who, armed with their energy, added to a practical 
 knowledge of business in its many details, will accom- 
 plish all that they failed to do. 
 
 TRAINING SCHOOLS. 
 There are colleges now in nearly all States, where girls 
 
16 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 are educated in all the important branches which young 
 men study before entering upon the profession of a life- 
 time, such as book-keeping, stenography, telegraphy, 
 and other branches, where she learns to calculate with 
 rapidity; to write a plain business hand; to concentrate 
 her thoughts on useful, instead of ornamental work; to 
 understand many of the intricate theories involved in 
 commercial life, which, to the average woman, are prob- 
 lems unsolved and unsolvable. The young men who are 
 her associates may at first feel bored over this new 
 assumption of knowledge, and miss the more frivolous 
 part of her nature, which served them as recreation, but 
 they will soon understand that her development of 
 strength need not detract from her womanliness or make 
 her one degree less lovable. She will be less dependent 
 but more companionable. Her work itself is becoming 
 more and more adapted to her own tastes and her ability 
 to perform it, and it is a duty imposed on all who have 
 the power to advance her interests to unite by word and 
 deed in clearing away all false ideas of the true woman’s 
 position in the world. The working woman of the 
 future will have one great advantage over her prototype 
 of the past—she will have the advantage of thorough 
 training schools and industrial colleges, such as the trus- 
 tees of the late John Simmons of Boston are pledged to 
 build, for which purpose Mr. Simmons bequeathed one 
 million of dollars. What Canon Kingsley calls the 
 lower education of women has been shamefully neg- 
 lected, and the fault is largely due to themselves. They 
 
 have cultivated accomplishments at the expense of valu- 
 
 able knowledge. Accomplishments are good in their 
 
WOMAN’S WORK. V7. 
 
 place, but if half the girls who spend hours every day in 
 thrumming the piano, with no taste or capacity for 
 music, would invest the same time and money in one 
 practical study, they would realize a much better profit 
 on their capital, and would never come to be regarded as 
 dependent incumbrances by their friends and relatives. 
 “What shall I do to be saved ?’ is literally the cry of 
 thousands of young women, who without friends or pro- 
 tectors, find themselves facing the world—the severe, 
 critical world—that is so kind and flattering to the suc- 
 cessful, so cruel and pitiless to the helpless and improvi- 
 dent of either sex. The financial test is a strong argu- 
 ment of success, for employers are slow to part with 
 their money for inferior work, and this is an age of com- 
 petition. One inefficient worker brings to naught, theo- 
 retically, the practical services of a dozen competent 
 ones. The employers judge other women by her iso- 
 lated case, and refuse to give occupation to one whom 
 they must first educate, and who gives them plainly to 
 understand that she has no interest in her work, is 
 driven to it by necessity, performs it grudgingly, and 
 will abandon it at the first opportunity for something 
 more congenial. 
 
—3 CHAPTER Ile 
 
 Aderagz x Wages x In) x Dew x y orks * and # Elsewhere, 
 
 T is a common wish among young 
 and inexperienced women about to 
 enter the arena of public labor to 
 find situations in a large city such 
 
 =~, as New York, Boston or Chicago, 
 s) “SZ but they must remember that while 
 there are many situations in a large town, 
 there are also many competitors, and these 
 always out-rate the positions in the ratio of 
 fifty applicants to one appointment. This 
 ‘at is the case in business situations for men, as 
 > well, only on a still more discouraging scale, 
 there being frequently a hundred applicants 
 to one vacancy. With this excess of demand 
 . on the wrong side prices must be low, but 
 there are always exceptions to every rule, and there may 
 be fortunate circumstances to give the last new comer 
 immediate compensation, and if that is not possible, 
 months of waiting may bear good fruit in an added 
 experience, a knowledge of the city, and other beneficial 
 results. 
 
 - In answer to enquiries in a New York paper, whether 
 
 there is any position open to a woman except that of a 
 teacher, where she can. earn more than $800 a year, the 
 
 . 
 
AVERAGE WAGES. 19 
 
 following list of prices is furnished, with the comment 
 that women, as a rule, received from twenty to thirty per 
 centum less than men for the same or equivalent ser- 
 vices. Just here I would say that no woman need feel 
 agerieved or discouraged by this statement, or imagine 
 that it is an injury which she must avenge by recourse 
 to the ballot. It is one of the barriers which men them- 
 selves erected to defend women, from behind which they 
 purposed to earn bread for both, unforeseeing the coming 
 army of women who have no one to work for them, and 
 who must of necessity work not only for themselves but 
 for those dependent on them. But even with this state- 
 ment, a canvass of our large stores and city business 
 houses would show a large percentage of men working 
 for eight or ten persons against single women clerks who 
 are working for themselves only. The adjustment of 
 false averages in wages, even in these cases, may be a 
 wrong one, but it is one which time and justice will 
 remedy. The woman must console herself as Whittier 
 did, under a national evil— 
 
 ‘‘T only know that God is just, 
 And every wrong shall die.” 
 
 Meanwhile, whatever her hand finds to do, let her do it 
 with her might. 
 
 These, then, are the average prices paid at the present 
 time in large cities for certain positions. Good sales- 
 men, for example, get from $6 to $10 a week; some few 
 who have worked a long time receive $12, and occasion- 
 ally a salary as high as $15 is paid. But the latter are 
 exceptional cases. Heads of departments, such as the 
 
20 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 leading saleswomen in the glove or lace departments, 
 or in the dressmaking, who command a large influ- 
 ential custom, receive as high as $20 or $30 a week, in 
 exceptional cases, and there are not fifty such positions. 
 in New York city to-day. 
 
 Lady cashiers receive, on an average, a little more than 
 good saleswomen. But $15 a week is a large stipend 
 for a cashier, and it requires a guaranteed ability, the 
 best of references, and sometimes good security, to 
 obtain such a position. The employment of book- 
 keeper commands as high as $20 a week, but the major- 
 ity of good bookkeepers get from $10 to $12, and many 
 women well trained in the business think themselves for- 
 tunate if they obtain $8. In the Employment Bureau of 
 the Young Women’s Christian Association, whose pro- 
 teges obtain, as a rule, better positions and better wages. 
 than the subscribers to ordinary employment agencies, 
 $15 per week is stated as the maximum that a woman 
 can hope for, exclusive of the professions. The Super- 
 intendent of the Bureau says it-is rare that a woman 
 obtains more than $15 per week as a teacher, and that 
 $800 per annum would be regarded as a very large sal- 
 ary. In the position of housekeeper $1,000 a year is. 
 occasionally paid to an experienced woman, trustworthy 
 and capable of assuming the entire management of a 
 first-class establishment. Such instances are very rare, 
 and can only be commanded by experienced women, 
 well trained theoretically. On piece work, in artificial 
 manufacture and occupations approximating to the 
 artistic, it is stated that wages as high as $18 are occa- 
 sionally earned by first-class hands; but, in ordinary 
 
AVERAGE WAGES. Ai 
 
 industries, from $8 to $12 per week represents the aver- 
 age earnings of women in occupations requiring some 
 training, and from $3 to $6 is the common price in the 
 lower industrial walks. 
 
 WOMEN AS HOTEL CLERKS. 
 
 At the Palmer House, Chicago, the head clerk, who is a 
 woman, receives a salary of $1,000 a year and board, 
 which is equivalent to $500 more. Another lady clerk 
 thas $900 a year and board, and one bookkeeper receives 
 $600 and board per year. If they prefer to board away 
 from the hotel they receive an additional allowance of 
 $500 a year. Mr. Palmer, the proprietor, announces 
 that the change from men clerks is so satisfactory that 
 he will employ them in the hotel as substitutes for male 
 help wherever it is practicable. There is a popular hotel 
 in Michigan where the marager, clerk, bookkeeper and 
 steward are all women. For these services they receive 
 the same salaries that men do. It might appear at first 
 thought, derogatory to the dignity of a lady to fill such 
 positions, but it is in such places that true ladyhood is 
 needed, and the very fact that the position is difficult 
 and in public places, should inspire the bread winner to 
 maintain and assert, at all hazards, her principles of 
 womanly honor. It is because of woman’s moral supe- 
 riority that she is given the position, and the surety her 
 employer has that the interests of the public, as well as 
 his own, will be safe in her hands. She will not 
 emBezzle his money in gambling or in late suppers. 
 She will not smoke his cigars, or bestow them on her 
 impecunious friends; she will not be insolent to one per- 
 
oo WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 son and cringing to another; and, if she is a true woman, 
 the very trials and stumbling blocks of her position will 
 only form for her a St. Augustine ladder, to raise her 
 above ignoble things. 
 
 DEPARTMENTS OF BUSINESS IN WHICH WOMEN ARE 
 ENGAGED. 
 
 The Popular Science Monthly gave some time ago a 
 list of the industrial avocations for women, which 
 offers a curious exhibit of the extent to which they 
 are now invading the fields of labor hitherto occupied 
 exclusively by men. There are many branches not. 
 included in this list, to which reference is made else- 
 where in the book. 
 
 Bankers and brokers, 15; clergy, 67; teachers, 84,047; 
 lawyers, 5; printers, 1,495; physicians and surgeons, 
 525; midwives, 1,136; dentists, 24; barbers and hair- 
 dressers, 1,170; barkeepers, 70; whitewashers, 391; boat. 
 hands, 30; canal boat hands, 10; pilots, 1; undertakers, 
 20; dray drivers and teamsters, 196; bricklayers, 74, 
 carriage trimmers, 32; hunters and trappers, 2; hostlers, 
 2; scavengers, 2; newspaper carriers, 7; bell foundry 
 operators, 4; brass founders, 102; brewers, 8; fishers, 
 35; gaswork employes, 4; gun and locksmiths, 32; 
 shingle and lath makers, 84; tinners, 17; architects, 1;. 
 auctioneers, 12; clockmakers, 75; agricultural laborers, 
 373,332; stock herders and stock raisers, 75; cigar- 
 makers, 1,844; curriers and tanners, 60; distillers, 6; 
 wood turners and carvers, 44; engravers, 29. 
 
 It is now almost impossible to find any business in 
 which a woman is not engaged, if not as principal, as 
 
AVERAGE WAGES. 23 
 
 assistant ; in which position she pays the penalty of a 
 lack of business knowledge and experience, by receiving 
 a lower rate of remuneration than a man would for doing 
 exactly the same work; but she must patiently bide her 
 time and learn what it is that she can do best, and not 
 be spasmodic in her work or in her business relations. 
 
 FALSE PRIDE. 
 
 When a young girl selects some money-making busi- 
 - ness she will naturally aspire to one of the professions, 
 such as teaching, because of the desirable associations 
 which surround it. School influences are all good, and 
 a teacher is fitted to appear in the best society, as the 
 result of association with the cultured and refined edu- 
 cators of youth. But all can not be teachers, nor are 
 they adapted to the work if they could secure situa- 
 tions. What then? The shop, cashiers, bookkeepers 
 or clerks? The training for any of these positions must 
 be such that they can compete with the male clerk who 
 began by sweeping out the store, and not only learned 
 to cast up accounts with accuracy and precision, but to 
 understand and take an interest in the fundamental laws 
 upon which business is based. The girl who was play- 
 ing with dolls when her fellow-clerk began his appren- 
 ticeship expects to pick it up in a few months, and earn 
 as much as he! She will learn in a few lessons that she 
 is mistaken, and if she is wise will pocket her pride and 
 go down to the bottom of things as he did, learning the 
 science as well as the routine of what she is doing. She 
 need not abate a particle of her dignity of character, or 
 grow hard and commonplace through the service of life, 
 
24 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 any more than she need ape the manners or don the garb 
 of her male co-worker. It is not necessary that she lose 
 that essential charm of womanhood, which is her natural 
 heritage, because she turns the pages of a ledger. The 
 whole tendency of her being is to grow in womanly 
 strength, not to develop into some kind of a masculine 
 
 nondescript. 
 
—~3C HAPTER III.a 
 
 fhe x Professisn * of* lsiférafurd. 
 
 Ny = eae HE author of the first modern novel 
 
 i{ was a woman— Miss Burney —and 
 concerning it Macaulay said: ‘It 
 i was a tale in which both the fashion- 
 y able and vulgar side of London might 
 mx be exhibited with great force and 
 broad comic humor. Most of the 
 novels which preceded Evelina were such 
 as no lady could have written, and many 
 of them were such as no lady could, with- 
 out confusion, own that she had read. 
 The very name of novel was held in horror 
 among religious people. Miss Burney 
 took away the reproach which lay on a 
 ¢ most useful and delightful species of com- 
 position.”’ 
 
 This was over a century ago. Miss Burney was the 
 daughter of a London music teacher and lady in waiting 
 to Queen Charlotte, consort of George III., in whose ser- 
 vice she nearly expended her life. She had for her 
 friends such men as Dr. Johnson, Sheridan, Burke, 
 Warren Hastings, and others of that period, who were 
 shining lights in literature. Before Dr. Johnson knew 
 who the author of Evelina was he had publicly praised 
 
 25 
 
26 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 the book, and in her humility and total lack of self-con- 
 sciousness she records in her diary: 
 
 ‘Dr. Johnson’s approbation almost crazed me with 
 agreeable surprise; it gave me such a flow of spirits that 
 I danced a jig to Daddy Crisp. I think I should love 
 Dr. Johnson for such lenity to a poor, mere worm in lit- 
 erature, even if I were not myself the identical grub he 
 has obliged.’’ 
 
 It was in the midst of this delicious atmosphere of 
 flattery, Dr. Johnson praising her; Edmund Burke 
 desiring to make her acquaintance, after sitting up all 
 night to read her book; Sheridan offering to take, with- 
 out first seeing it, any play that she would write; that 
 she lived and wrote another novel, Cecilia. Although 
 not so simple in style, it was a more effective piece of 
 work, and was received with great excitement. It is said 
 to have brought the author a remuneration of two thou- 
 sand pounds. 
 
 Both of these novels are now unread and have passed 
 out of fashion, but her letters and diary, as Madame 
 D’ Arblay, are on sale in new revised form, and are val- 
 uable as faithful, piquant chroniclers of a past liter- 
 ature, and a graphic reproduction of the minds and 
 manners of the eighteenth century. 
 
 WOMEN FAMOUS IN LITERATURE. 
 
 A modern writer says: In English literature there is 
 hardly a department which woman does not adorn. In 
 history, biography, poetry and fiction, she seems equally 
 at home, presenting a versatility and comprehensiveness, 
 a grasp of deep and intricate questions, a delicacy and 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. Bi. 
 
 faithfulness of treatment, a logical force and clearness 
 seldom equaled or surpassed by the stronger sex. The 
 writer then alludes to that remarkable woman Harriet 
 Martineau, who popularized the principles of political 
 economy, defined the phenomena of mesmerism, wrote 
 histories, biographies, manuals of statesmanship and 
 treatises on the condition of the laboring classes, while 
 herself a suffering invalid. Her ‘‘ Life in a Sick Room’”’ 
 has cheered and strengthened thousands of invalids by 
 teaching them occupation and diversion for the dreary 
 hours of solitude and suffering which no external aid 
 can altogether relieve. The story of her ‘‘ Farm of 
 Four Acres’’ has been read and studied with profit by 
 hundreds of practical agriculturists, and the history of 
 her life, written by herself, and bearing in every line 
 the impress of her independence and originality is, not- 
 withstanding its negation of that hope which is the light 
 and life of the Christian, one of the most valuable and 
 instructive of studies. 
 
 Marian Evans, better known:as ‘‘George Eliot,’’? has 
 made*an enduring fame through her novels, which are 
 justly considered the best works of modern fiction, those 
 which she first gave to the world being considered supe- 
 rior as domestic literature to the more elaborate and pow- 
 erful works of her mature years. The fireside favorites are 
 ‘* Adam Bede” and the.‘‘Mill on the Floss.’? ‘The classic 
 romances of her later years were ‘‘Romola”’? and 
 “‘ Daniel Deronda,’’ standard novels, full of a rich, ripe, 
 intellectual vigor, but demanding an equal breadth of 
 understanding to enjoy them,:consequently less popular 
 with the great class of people who do not enjoy abstruse 
 
28 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO, 
 
 reading. But they are wonderful monuments to the 
 genius of the writer; albeit they have neither the pathos 
 of Dickens or the brilliant sarcasm of Thackeray, but are 
 worthy of comparison with either. 
 
 Mrs. Oliphant, Mrs. Gaskell, and Mrs. Henry Wood, are 
 all well known as novelists, and have made handsome for- 
 tunes out of their writings. Agnes Strickland has given 
 us the ‘‘ Queens of England,” the most charmingly writ- 
 ten history in existence. Mrs. Gaskell wrote the Life of 
 Charlotte Bronté, the gifted author of ‘‘ Jane Eyre,”’ so 
 delightfully that the critics said it ranked next in inter- 
 est to the novel whose writer it depicted, and it stands 
 unrivaled as a biography, just as Mrs. Anna Cora 
 Ritchie’s autobiography surpasses all others. 
 
 In poetry the names of Felicia Hemans and Elizabeth 
 Barret Browning, the author of that rare poem for 
 women, ‘‘ Aurora Leigh,”’ stand pre-eminent. Mrs. He- 
 mans was the poet of the affections and of sentiment. 
 Mrs. Browning wrote heroic epics, and stands acknowl- 
 edged the crowned queen of song. England’s poets of 
 the gentler sex have led unhappy lives of repression and 
 non-appreciation, or have been helpless invalids, with afew 
 notable exceptions. As the bird whose eyes have been 
 put out sings the sweetest song in its blindness and cap- 
 tivity, so these wounded spirits, such as Mrs. Hemans, 
 L. EK. L., Mrs Caroline Norton, Adelaide Proctor, and 
 Mrs. Browning, have given us the divinest strains of sor- 
 row through their suffering souls. Take a glance at any 
 collection of poets and see the women’s names there 
 inscribed: Jean Ingelow, Dinah Maria Mulock, Ade- 
 laide Proctor, Mary Howitt, Eliza Cook, Christina Ro- 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 29 
 
 setti, and hosts of others as well known and as popular. 
 Our own country has Harriet Beecher Stowe, whose 
 **Uncle Tom’s Cabin ”’ not only made her famous but inde- 
 ‘pendently rich; Margaret Fuller Ossoli, whose unhappy 
 death took her from us in the flower of her genius, and 
 who was the first American writer in the ranks of women 
 to produce essays of clearness and vigor, which were in 
 the highest sense intellectual and educational; Mrs. E. 
 D. E. N. Southworth, a popular novelist; Lucy Larcom, 
 whose graceful poetry is much admired; ‘‘Gail Hamilton,”’ 
 Miss Abigail Dodge, who has written several sparkling 
 books, and a host of women who write books, write for 
 the newspapers and for the periodicals, and whose work 
 is well paid for. There are women whose names do not 
 become widely Known who have made valuable contri- 
 butions to the literature of the day. The bookstores are 
 filled with new books, and on the handsome covers thé 
 names of female writers are inscribed. There are indus- 
 trious workers who produce a new volume every year, 
 the labor pays them pecuniarily, and the people are the 
 critics who read and accept what they write. 
 
 HOW TO GET A MANUSCRIPT PUBLISHED. 
 
 If there is merit in the work it will be discovered by 
 some publisher to whom it may be submitted, and the 
 manuscript will be given to a reader, and if it is accepted, 
 a certain price will be paid for it; or it may be published 
 on .a royalty to the author, which is usually ten per 
 cent. To ensure attention the writing should be legi- 
 ble, written only on one side of the paper, the manu- 
 script smooth and easily handled, and everything made. 
 
30 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 as plain to the reader as possible. Stamps for its 
 return, in case it is not used, should be enclosed. No 
 rules can be given to ensure success. If there is merit 
 and originality in the story, and it is well told and 
 pleasantly written, it will take. ‘‘Cape Cod Folks” was 
 a first novel by an anonymous writer, and it had a sud- 
 den local success. It was written by a bright young girl 
 who taught school a season among a lot of quaint char- 
 acters whom she mimicked in such a brilliant manner that 
 the work had a novelty and dash that made it sell. ‘*An 
 Earnest Trifler,’’ another popular society novel, was writ- 
 ten by an Ohio girl, and has been in demand for several 
 seasons. ‘‘One Summer,’’ by Blanche Howard, has been 
 a very successful book for light summer reading. It is 
 not likely that these books will be remembered after a 
 dozen years. They will hardly enjoy the popularity of 
 ‘‘Queechy;’? and ‘‘The Wide, Wide World,’ by Miss 
 Warner. It is doubtful if the writers made very mnch 
 out of them—perhaps what it would have taken them 
 three years to earn at school teaching. Books written 
 under difficulties are nearly always the most successful, 
 as the friction of adverse circumstances brings out more - 
 freely the sparks of genius. It will do amateur writers 
 good to study the habits of successful authors, to read 
 successful books, and analyze their contents. ‘The home 
 life of the Bronté family has always possessed a great 
 interest for those who are engaged in literary pursuits. 
 An old family servant says that the famous sisters had 
 very regular habits of indoor life. At nine o’clock pre- 
 cisely every evening all domestic work was laid aside and 
 literary tasks were begun. They talked over the stories 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 31 
 
 they were engaged upon, and described their plots. 
 Apparently there was some writing during the day, 
 for, according to the servant: ‘‘ Many’s the time that 
 IT have seen Miss Emily put down the tally iron, as she 
 was ironing the clothes, to scribble something on a piece 
 of paper. Whatever she was doing, ironing or baking, 
 she had her pencil and paper by her. I know now she 
 was writing ‘ Wuthering Heights.’ ”’ 
 
 HOW THE AUTHOR OF ‘‘ WE GIRLS’? WRITES HER 
 BOOKS. 
 
 Apropos of the home life of writers, a few words about 
 one of our own fireside authors may not be amiss here. 
 There are few persons who read the lighter class of liter- 
 ature who do not admire the sweet, pure, wholesome works 
 of Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, and who would not be glad to 
 know something about her personal and private life. 
 She lives in a quaint, old-fashioned brown house, witha 
 rotunda running across the front, supported by pillars, 
 _ over which are trailing vines. It is hard to imagine a 
 more homelike place.. Everything shows the work of 
 hands at home, from the pretty parlor curtains of an 
 unbleached muslin, bordered with red and black, to 
 the combination of the shades of brown in the furniture 
 covering. Inthe parlor hang photographs which bring 
 to mind ‘Sights and Insights.’’ Two or three exquisite 
 panels of pansies, which must have been suggested by 
 the book of ‘‘ thoughts that have blossomed into words;’’ 
 two fine outline engravings of Fra Angelica’s ‘‘ Angels;”’ 
 Raphael’s ‘‘ Madonna of the Goldfinch; Delanche’s 
 beautiful ‘‘ Moses in the Bulrushes,”’ and some pretty little 
 
32 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 chromos. Wherever one happens to be there is a book 
 to pick up, and it is always sure to be interesting. Mac- 
 donald is a very great favorite with Mrs. Whitney. His 
 picture hangs in her room. And Mrs. Whitney herself? 
 She is a quiet, sweet little woman, dressed in black and 
 gray. ne 
 
 She has no special place for writing when hay-lofts 
 are out of the question. Her ‘‘Odd and Even” was 
 mostly written in a hay-loft on summer days. She keeps 
 her few books of reference in a music rack, which she 
 rolls around where fancy leads her, writing generally on 
 a board or book placed on her lap. She copies all the 
 manuscript with a type-writer. 
 
 One singular thing in Mrs. Whitney’s books is, that 
 those circumstances which seem most immaterial are 
 founded on fact. The black cat in ‘‘Zerub Throop’s 
 Experiment’’ was taken from life. The whole solution of 
 the plot in ‘‘Odd or Even”? hung upon a sneeze. In 
 writing she generally has an idea from which some life 
 lesson can be taken, which she calls the core of her 
 story. . ‘‘ It comes first,”’ she says, ‘‘and I build around 
 it. I sit as a spectator and let my people come upon 
 the stage, not knowing what they are to be myself, but I 
 never take a portrait. If I find one coming unawares I 
 immediately change the features.’ If a house or room 
 is to be described, Mrs. Whitney puts her idea first in 
 the form of a pencil sketch and keeps the drawing with 
 her to be sure of consistency. One of her very best 
 books for the home is ‘‘ We Girls,’’ in which so many 
 beautiful, graceful features of domestic life are drawn, 
 
| 
 A 
 
 i 
 i LY 
 
 eq 
 
 = 
 
 LL 
 
 iA 
 
 ROSA HARTWIGK THORPE, 
 
 MRS 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 33 
 
 while a simple story is charmingly told in her wise and 
 gracious way. 
 
 MRS. ROSA HARTWICK THORPE, 
 Author of ‘‘ Curfew Must Not Ring To-Night.” 
 
 Mrs. Rosa Hartwick Thorpe is the author of one poem 
 which has made a world-wide and enduring fame for 
 her, such as other writers have spent a life-time in 
 vainly trying to acquire. It was written for the Detroit — 
 Commercial Advertiser, and the writer did not probably 
 recelve any compensation for it. It was copied in all 
 -other papers throughout the Union, aud was reproduced 
 in English journals, and translated into the German lan- 
 guage in Germany. Mrs. Thorpe was but seventeen 
 years old when she wrote this famous poem. As 
 a child she was a thinker and reader, and in her 
 school days her delightful essays and composition 
 were the admiration of teachers and classmates. She 
 has never made a profession of writing, but has jotted 
 down her thoughts during her household exercises, or | 
 in seasons of ill-health, as a sort of mental recreation. 
 Mrs. Thorpe has furnished many short poems to the 
 newspapers, heroic or sentimental incidents of history 
 furnishing her with themes. There is no doubt she 
 might have wealth and fame both with her pen had she: 
 made literature a profession. 
 
 Mrs. Thorpe is tall and slender. She has dark browm 
 hair, and eyes that indicate remarkable intelligence, as: 
 
 her picture, taken expressly for this work, indicates, 
 
~s@HAPTER IVa 
 The # Profession ® of® Journalism. 
 
 We THIRTY years ago a woman who 
 wrote for the papers was looked 
 upon as a great curiosity—a sort of 
 nondescript who occupied a purely 
 ideal position, and whose name was 
 «4% Vvelled from the contaminating gaze 
 of the public under initial letters or some 
 graceful nom-de-plume of the Lydia Lan- 
 guish school. The term blue stocking was 
 still in vogue for any woman who dared 
 let her proclivity for writing stories or 
 poetry be Known, and the vulgar taste 
 dictated such verses as the following 
 specimen as a means of ridicule: 
 
 “To see a lady of such taste 
 So slatternly is shocking, 
 Your pen and poetry lay by 
 And learn to darn your stockings.” 
 
 + 
 In spite of these discouragements many daring women 
 did manage to add a respectable sum to their otherwise 
 meagre purses every year, by writing poetry, essays and 
 stories for the papers. Among these was Emily C. 
 Chubbuck, who, under the alliterative name of Fanny 
 
 Forrester, wrote very acceptable poems and stories, 
 34 
 
 b 
 : 
 | 
 
'e 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 35 
 
 ~which were the means of introducing her to her future 
 husband, the distinguished missionary Adoniram Jud- 
 son. She is long since dead, but her poems and her 
 book, Alderbrook, etc., are found still in old libra- 
 ries. Miss Sarah Clarke (Grace Greenwood) was also 
 of that period, and is still living abroad. She wrote for 
 the columns of various papers, and edited a child’s mag- 
 azine, the Little Pilgrim. Mrs. Hale was then the editor 
 of Godey’s Lady’s Book, and continued to be for forty 
 years. Mrs. Sigourney had written sweet verses, which 
 had given her both name and fame. The Boston Olive 
 Branch had a number of ladies employed in its office 
 as editors, readers, story-writers, and editorial writers in 
 those days. Mrs. M. A. Denison, author of ‘‘ That Hus- 
 band of Mine,’ edited the ‘‘ Ladies Enterprise,’’ a 
 paper issued under the management of the Olive Branch 
 Company. Fanny Fern came into that office one day, 
 and handed Mr. Norris a ‘‘little piece.’’ He referred it 
 to Mrs. Denison, who read it and passed it along to Mrs. 
 Gerry, who wrote something on the margin. It was 
 this: ‘*A very readable sketch, bright and sparkling.”’ 
 Mr. Norris said: ‘‘ You can leave it; if it is used we 
 will pay you at the rate of $1.50 per column of our 
 ‘paper. Afterwards Robert Bonner paid her one hun- 
 dred dollars a column. Every line she wrote was a 
 satire on some pet folly, and her articles became 
 immensely popular. It is recorded of her, that she 
 wrote once a week for the Ledger for fourteen years, and 
 in all that time was never once late with her manuscript 
 or missed a paper. I mention these as representative 
 women. There were many others who wrote then and 
 
36 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 have won for themselves an honorable competence in 
 newspaper writing, if not as public a fame. 
 
 But the style of writing has changed. The pretty love 
 stories in which romantic names and pastoral scenes are 
 blended are no longer in favor. Even the genius of Mar- 
 garet Fuller might not get her a situation on the public. 
 press to-day as an editorial writer, for the newspapers 
 no longer publish literary essays, however learned and 
 well written; it wants a quick and comprehensive digest. 
 of the news—a tender and pathetic sketch in which are 
 all the elements of a first-class drama, a poem worthy of 
 Longfellow or Bryant, or a description of a dog fight or 
 local disturbance, written in rhetorical English, and a 
 style that will compare with Ruskin. 
 
 THE LADY JOURNALIST. 
 
 No work is more strangely and more curiously misun- 
 derstood than that required by journalism. It not only 
 requires special talent of a high order, but the greatest: 
 amount of technical discipline, general information, 
 adaptability, quickness of diction, and fertility of 
 resources. With all this it requires, too, what is almost: 
 a sixth sense, the mental habit of keen analysis and 
 swift combination. While these qualifications are in 
 their perfection, the result of experience, they must also 
 be natural gifts. The journalist, even as the poet, is: 
 born, not made. The young woman who aspires to do 
 “critical literary work’’ would, upon trial, be found 
 incompetent to write a local paragraph satisfactorily. 
 If she is in earnest in her desire to enter journalism, she 
 must be content to begin at the beginning. She must: 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 37 
 
 realize the importance of that sympathetic perception, 
 graphic delineation, and power of representation that 
 characterize the able reporter. It is a department whose 
 discipline is invaluable, and whose scope it may well be 
 a young woman’s aspiration to ably fill; and there is not 
 the slightest danger of her work being too good for it. 
 ‘The anxiety should be to have it sufficiently good. If 
 the aspiring young woman is ready to begin in the sim- 
 plest manner, and bring her best abilities to whatever she 
 is set to do, she may in time grow to other work. That 
 depends wholly on innate ability and her power of per- 
 severance. 
 
 Again, the professional journalist is as often amazed 
 over the attitude taken by the young woman whose con- 
 tributions he rejects. Now, it is an unwritten law, well 
 understood in journalism, that no editor is under the 
 slightest obligation to give a reason for his acceptance or 
 non-acceptance of a manuscript. He is not called upon 
 to write a private critique on the article to the author of 
 it. His acceptance or rejection is an absolute and 
 unquestionable fact. Among amateur writers this does 
 not appear to be understood. ‘‘The article is hardly 
 available for the columns of this paper,’’ writes the edi- 
 tor of the journal. Now, that should be sufficient, and 
 end the matter. The article may be better in some 
 respects than a dozen others he accepts; but if he is in 
 any sense worthy of his place, he has an innate intuition 
 of subtle fitness and intellectual acquirements which he 
 could no more communicate than he could put his men- 
 tal life on exhibition. Moreover, there is not the slight- 
 est necessity of his convincing them. But his contribu- 
 
38 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 tor can not let the matter rest. Perhaps she has writtem 
 a book and is not pleased with his review of it. She 
 must write him a letter deprecating his judgment. She 
 wants to know if he has read her book carefully. She tells: 
 him the critical connoisseur gave two columns of extracts. 
 from it, and she thinks it too bad that he referred to it 
 so unkindly. She favors him with nine pages of her 
 views on his conduct. All sub-editors and reporters: 
 understand that it is an unjustifiable impertinence to- 
 ask the managing editor his reason for publishing or not. 
 publishing any matter submitted to his judgment. Out- 
 side writers and aspiring amateurs rarely seem to com- 
 prehend this truth, and their transgressions are largely 
 from ignorance, rather than intention. The nature of 
 editorial work requires absolute power of decision in 
 order to preserve the unities of the journal the editor 
 conducts, and the amateur contributor should not per- 
 mit his amour propre to incite him to open any discus- 
 sion regarding the justice of the editorial judgment. 
 
 ETHICS OF JOURNALISM. 
 
 The above statements are strictly true, but how are 
 young writers to know this? There is no school in 
 which journalism is taught as any other profession is, 
 and an amateur in newspaper work must therefore learn 
 the etiquette of the occasion from actual experience. 
 The editor of a daily journal, for example, has no time: 
 to instruct callers with manuscript they wish him to 
 peruse, in the ethics of journalism. He may frown and 
 look bored, and consult his watch, as he frequently does: 
 on such an occasion; and if his visitor has the intuitions 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 39 
 
 which the situation demands she will leave her manu- 
 Script and go away, without another word. It is not. 
 necessary that she explain how she came to write it, 
 what her necessities are, where she was born, and if she 
 is married or single. The editor is not personally inter- 
 ested in her history, and his time is money to him. 
 Now, if she would reach his notice in a business way, let 
 her present her manuscript, ask him if he will please 
 look it over when he has time, and either leave her 
 address and stamps for its return, or state that she will 
 call again at such atime. Then she will bow pleasantly 
 and retire. A lady who has won name and money as a 
 newspaper writer, took her first effort to a weekly jour- 
 nalin Boston. The editor was amusing himself with a 
 pet dog when she entered the office, and he merely 
 inclined his head toward a chair, and went on feeding 
 the dog lumps of sugar. The lady at last became so 
 indignant at such neglect that she rose to go. Then the 
 editor asked what he could do for her, and extended his 
 hand for the roll of manuscript she carried, telling her 
 that if it was used it would be paid for at the rate of $2 
 a column. The columns were very long, and the lady 
 left the office feeling much discouraged. The next week 
 she bought the paper and saw her sketch. When she 
 visited the office the editor handed her $1.50, and said 
 he would like a long story, complete in one issue. She 
 wrote it and it measured nine columns, for which she 
 received eighteen dollars, and from that hour she has 
 continued to earn money freely with her pen; yet, the 
 editor candidly told her that if she had not called in per- 
 son he would not have used her contributions. ‘‘It was 
 
40 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 the magnetism of your presence, your quick, decided 
 manner, and the few words you expressed your business 
 in, that led me to examine the manuscript in which I 
 found the merit suggested.”’ 
 
 There can be no possible reason why a woman who has 
 manuscript to sell should not seek a market for her liter- 
 ary wares as she would for needle work or pictures; but 
 she must be competent to write a poem or prose article, 
 just as she must be to sew well, or paint a satisfactory 
 picture. And there will be grades of merit, too, in the 
 writings as in the material products. She need no more 
 expect that her first articles will be accepted by Harper 
 or the New York World, or Tribune, than that her first : 
 picture will find a place in the Academy of Arts, unless, 
 indeed, she has exceptional genius or inspiration amount- 
 ing toit. ‘‘But how am I to know whether my articles 
 will be worth publishing unless I submit them to the 
 editor of some paper?’ That is very true; but you will. 
 need wings before you can soar. <A brief and well writ- 
 ten communication on some topic of interest—not your- 
 self or your family affairs—but a bright, attractive half- 
 column sketch, written in a bold, free hand, on one side 
 of clean, unwrinkled paper—something that will strike 
 the eye and the understanding at the same time, and 
 demand attention—this is what a newspaper wants. 
 Use concise terms; have a choice of words; be anything 
 but commonplace. If you attempt to describe a horse- 
 race, put motion into the article; make it so pictur- 
 esque and full of life that your readers can see the 
 flying animal, the crowd of spectators, and hear the loud 
 cheers that announce the winning heat. Give strength 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 41 
 
 and beauty to the simplest things you describe; use a 
 lead pencil and eraser, and strike out any sentence that 
 is not a picture. Some of the strongest journalistic work 
 in the world has been done by women. Miss Middy 
 Morgan is the live stock reporter for a number of New 
 York daily papers. It is rather a strange occupation for 
 a@ woman perhaps. Miss Morgan commands respect, 
 and she is an earnest, honest worker, who loves her 
 somewhat bizarre occupation, and brings to it practical 
 knowledge which few men possess. She is of Irish birth, 
 a descendant of one of the oldest families of Irish gen- 
 try, had from childhood been devoted to out-door sports, 
 and could ride horseback better than any boy of her 
 native country. She was thoroughly educated, and was 
 a sort of Lady Clancarty in elegance and grace of man- 
 ner. Domestic reverses found her in this country, in New 
 York city, proud and penniless. It seemed as if she 
 could not find any field in which to exercise her talent. 
 At last she went to the old white-haired philosopher, 
 Horace Greeley, for advice. During their chat he 
 ‘alluded to the need of a reporter of cattle sales, and jok- 
 ingly suggested that she try the occupation. 
 
 ‘“*T will do it,’’ she exclaimed, and rising to her full 
 Aeight, six feet two inches, she looked a veritable young 
 Amazon, as she grandly stalked from the room. But 
 she is an Amazon in height and intellect only, for other- 
 wise she is not at all masculine, and has a dainty com- 
 plexion, despite her constant exposure to wind and sun. 
 Her eyes of bright Irish blue—‘‘celestial blue,”’ as Mr. 
 McGowan describes them—are very expressive. She is 
 
me: 5) WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 a bright, intelligent talker, full of anecdote and adven- 
 ture. She believes that, if she behaves herself, a woman. 
 can earn her living wherever she develops most aptitude. 
 In short, Miss Morgan says: ‘‘It is the woman who: 
 makes the occupation.’? She has purchased horses in 
 France for the King of Italy’s stables, and no one has. 
 ever called Middy Morgan unwomanly, or done any- 
 thing but commend her for her fearless pluck and her 
 excellent journalism. 
 
 LADY REPORTERS. 
 
 A lady reporter has been employed for years on the 
 New York Daily Sun. She writes up everything that 
 comes in her way, in the shape of local news; is here, 
 there, and everywhere that an item can be collected, and 
 gives it to the public in an easy, readable style. She 
 used to attend Mr. Beecher’s church on Sunday, and 
 report the sermon, from a little stand placed under and 
 in front of the pulpit platform. There is a large num- 
 ber of women in New York who support themselves by 
 writing for the newspapers, daily or weekly; some are 
 local; some write short sketches; others furnish long 
 serial stories; many are book reviewers. There are pub- 
 lishing houses which pay liberally for children’s stories, 
 biographies, and compilations from different sources, 
 which are brought out in book form. 
 
 Household departments, fashion letters, such as Jenny 
 June furnishes to a dozen papers simultaneously; chil- — 
 dren’s column, market articles, art criticisms, book 
 reviews—these are nearly always the work of women. 
 Mrs. Addie 8. Billington presides ably over the Home 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 43: 
 
 Circle in the Burlington Hawkeye, a prominent Iowa. 
 journal; Mrs. Sarah Boynton Harbert is at the head of 
 the Woman’s Kingdom, in the Chicago Inter-Ocean;. 
 Mrs. H. E. Starrett is on the editorial staff of the St. 
 Louis Evening Post; Miss Jennie Starkey is puzzle edi- 
 tor of the Detroit Free Press; Nellie Hutchinson is a 
 special writer on the New York Daily Tribune. Indeed, 
 the papers to which women do not contribute, and on 
 whose pages they are not employed, are exceptions to: 
 the rule. And there is always room for more. People 
 with brains, talent, and capability for using them, will 
 open all doors. She who writes a poem will find some 
 paper to publish and pay forit. Butit must be a poem 
 in the true sense—not ‘‘lines,’’ ‘‘verses,’’ dull and. 
 commonplace—but a harmony of mind, thought and 
 execution. Offering mental wares to the public and ask- 
 ing it to buy, is much like soliciting patronage for a new 
 cook stove or ironing board. If it is better than any in 
 the market it will have an enormous sale; if as good, it 
 will have its share, and if inferior will not be wanted at. 
 any price. 
 
 Just here I recall the case of a good woman who was 
 an excellent housekeeper, and set such a good table that 
 her house during the summer months—she lived in the 
 country—was the resort of guests who paid liberally for 
 the privilege. But in an unlucky hour, a little woman 
 boarded there who wrote for the papers—was a paid con- 
 tributor. The woman who had hitherto been content to 
 toil in her kitchen, making premium bread, butter, and 
 pickles, saw how well her boarder dressed, how easily 
 she appeared to earn her moné,, und she, too. longed to 
 
A4 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 write. As soon as she was alone she neglected her house 
 duties, and wrote ‘‘ pieces,’’ as she called them, and sent 
 them off, badly written, ill-spelled, to half the editors in 
 the country. I have seen one of these scrawls, and it 
 began as follows: 
 
 dear Mr editur 
 
 “I stop my moping’’—she was washing the 
 floor at the time and meant mopping—‘“‘ to Inform yure 
 reeders how to keap yung Childreen from geting into 
 Hot water.’? She then tells them to have the water 
 ‘‘torpit;’’? she probably meant ‘‘tepid,’’ and if the child 
 falls in, 1t will not be ‘‘scalt.”” For this very valuable 
 information she demanded the modest sum of five dol- 
 lars! 
 
 This is why I urge women to be sure of their ability 
 ‘before they enter the flinty paths of journalism, where 
 it is a sin to be ignorant, and where you are expected to 
 be wise, witty, sensible, poetical, and versatile for very 
 moderate pay. An attaché of a newspaper must be 
 ready to take up the pen on all occasions, at a moment’s 
 notice, to write a column or a paragraph, for either of 
 which a hint from the managing editor must suffice, and 
 to be versatile enough to write grave to-day and gay 
 to-morrow. Nor must such a one ask the why or where- 
 fore of what is to be written. 
 
 Theirs not to make reply; 
 Theirs but to do—and die.” 
 
 It is agreeable, wide-awake work, with no more drudg- 
 ery than there is in other professions, and with many 
 compensations. I refer particularly now to women as 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 45. 
 
 newspaper reporters or members of the local staff. 
 There are not many women who can do such work, but 
 there are some who have made it successful. The New 
 York Sun, the Cincinnati Commercial, the Chicago 
 Inter-Ocean, and other daily papers of prominence have 
 always had a lady reporter, who is ‘‘assigned”’ to cer- 
 tain work, such as attending meetings of a political or 
 public nature, and giving reports of them; writing up 
 weddings, social gatherings, openings and markets. An 
 Iowa daily paper had a lady base ball reporter—Mrs. 
 Sallie Van Pelt, who was then on the Dubuque Times. 
 Mrs. Fitzgerald, of the Chicago Inter-Ocean, went on 
 that paper as night reporter, and would go into the 
 office at midnight with police news. No one molested 
 her, and she retained her position until something more 
 desirable offered itself. The salary for such work aver- 
 ages about $10 aweek. It requires energy, courage, and, 
 above all, promptness. The expected articles must be 
 on hand at the moment. The pages of a great newspa- 
 per can not be dependent on the caprices of an employe. 
 Harper’s Bazar, edited by Miss Mary Booth, who receives 
 three thousand dollars yearly for the work, is always 
 desirous of receiving good short stories—something 
 bright and original—and pays from fifteen to twenty 
 dollars for them, sending the money as soon as the 
 story is read and accepted, but publishing it at the 
 convenience of the editor. There are a number of 
 papers in New York that pay small sums, ranging 
 from fifty cents up to five dollars for short, pleasant, 
 readable sketches, topics of the time written up attrac- 
 tively, and short love stories. Style must be cultivated 
 
AG WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 in all writing. At the present time a terse, practical, 
 brilliant style is in favor. No one writes now in the 
 sentimental manner of the author of the ‘‘ Children of the 
 Abbey;’’? nor is Lord Macauley a criterion even for the 
 editorial writer. New words are in use, sentences are 
 short and crisp, writing is a more ephemeral thing, and 
 is expected to have the glow and sparkle of champagne 
 while it lasts. The world moves rapidly, and no one 
 wants to stop to read dull platitudes; nor will your suc- 
 cess be ensured with the publication of one article. You 
 will need to go on pruning, cultivating, and acquiring 
 all the time, in order to keep up the ever- Baka 
 demand for new things. 
 
 AN OPEN LETTER. 
 
 “‘T want you to tell me how to begin newspaper correspond- 
 ence,” modestly demands an aspiring young woman. “I live 
 in a small town where there is nothing but sewing for women 
 to do—for pay. I believe I would make a good newspaper cor- 
 respondent. My stories, the few I have sent to magazines and 
 papers, are generally accepted and paid for. I want to go to 
 Florida, but can not afford to, unless I can get an engagement 
 as correspondent.” 
 
 Now, the person who regards newspaper correspond- 
 ence as a trade by means of which she may be able to 
 “‘oo to Florida,’’ or anywhere else, has not the faintest 
 element of capacity for it. It requires a certain creative 
 type of talent to be an acceptable newspaper writer, 
 whether in correspondence or any other line, and the 
 woman who wants to turn from sewing, because it 
 doesn’t pay, to writing, because it does pay, shows 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 47 
 
 herself utterly unappreciative of the work. Newspa- 
 per correspondence is not a trade, a mechanism, an 
 industrial pursuit to be chosen on the ground of its 
 being a remunerative vocation. Like all forms of lit- 
 -erary work, it chooses its votaries, to a large degree, 
 rather than waits to be chosen by them. If a woman is 
 born with a talent to write she will write—there is no 
 possible doubt about that. That she ‘‘lives in a small 
 town”? has nothing to do with it. The size of one’s 
 native village does not necessarily determine the size of 
 one’s intellectual capacity. The person who feels a con- 
 viction of a certain destiny does not require to have that 
 conviction propped up by admiring and miscellaneous 
 encouragement. Ifa woman ‘‘ believes she would make 
 a good newspaper correspondent,”’ let her proceed to 
 business forthwith. What's to hinder? There isn’t a 
 newspaper in the country that wouldn’t welcome the 
 fresh writer who had anything to say. If she has any 
 ‘ideas, there is every possible opportunity for expressing 
 them. And if she has anything to express, she will 
 quietly do so, and not inundate strangers with a nine- 
 page letter, written on both sides of the thinnest pos- 
 ible paper, soliciting their approval or admiration. 
 Worth is proved alone by work. What can one do? 
 Probably she does not know herself till she tries, and 
 how can she expect an entire stranger to cast her horo- 
 scope? The successful people are those who, if they 
 feel a conviction of a certain line of talent, follow that 
 line and make of it an art; not a trade, a religion; not an 
 ‘industrial pursuit. The girl who begins newspaper cor- 
 Tespondence because she loves it, because it is to her a 
 
48 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 joy, an expression, an intellectual necessity, will v 
 likely in time work it up to a remunerative pursuit. 
 But it will undoubtedly require some time. The one 
 who seizes it to relieve the emptiness of her pocket. 
 instead of the fullness of her mind, had far better save 
 her postage stamps. If this should appear unsympa- 
 thetic, the reason lies in the fact that the miscellaneous. 
 desire to earn money is not an affair that enlists pro- 
 found sympathy. Newspaper correspondence, rightly 
 viewed, isan art. The special correspondent of a jour- 
 nal has an influence and a place second only to that of 
 the editorial page. If she does not hold her work abo 
 the level of mere local chronicle, of the exclusive narr 
 tion of transient and trifling events; if she does not bring 
 to bear on it, her best work, and refresh her resources: 
 from the finest thought and widest suggestion of the 
 day, then is she unfit for the responsibility that is 
 entrusted to her. Newspaper correspondence should 
 be a work of significance, and the woman who regards. 
 it as an easy way of earning money has of its scope too 
 little comprehension to invite further discussion. 
 
 A WOMAN’S SUCCESS AS MANAGER OF A NEWSPAPER. 
 
 A prominent German newspaper, published in New 
 York city, called Der Staats Zeitung, has made an 
 almost phenomenal success in the hands of a woman. 
 Some years ago its present owner was left a widow with 
 several small children and a little newspaper, which she 
 tried to dispose of without avail. Prevailing on the 
 man employed as its editor to remain and fulfill his. 
 duties, she herself attended to the business, and in a few 
 
 a 
 a a ee 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 49 
 
 onths there was a marked improvement, the editor 
 ng his share in making its columns of value to the 
 public, and finally the widow decided to keep the paper 
 and married the editor. She purchased the paper on 
 which the publication was printed, employed the work- 
 people, managed the funds, and, at the same time, edu- 
 cated her boys and girls. After a time she grew rich, 
 and instead of walking to the office, drove there daily in 
 a handsome carriage. The office itself was now a fine 
 modern establishment. From 10 to 3 o’clock the pro- 
 prietor attended to business, after which she returned to 
 1er elegant home, the fruit of her own labor. She has 
 lately built one of the finest blocks in New York city, 
 and has donated fifty thousand dollars to the Old Ladies’ 
 (German) Home. During these years of toil and public 
 life, she has commanded the respect of all who knew 
 her, and has never ceased to be a lady of high breeditig 
 and sweet womanly sympathies. Der Staats Zeitung is 
 the leading German newspaper, and Der Zeitung build- 
 ing is a most beautiful monument of woman’s capacity 
 to do the very best bread-winning work in the world, 
 provided she gives her mind, heart, and enthusiasm to 
 its accomplishment. 
 
 THE FIRST NEWSPAPER CONDUCTED BY WOMEN. 
 
 The first paper in the country of which any record is 
 made of ownership or personal connection on the part of 
 women, was the paper printed in Rhode Island, at New- 
 port, in 1842. It was printed by James Franklin, brother 
 of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, and at his death by his two 
 daughters and a servant girl. The daughters, it is said, 
 
 4 
 
5O WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 did the type setting; the servant girl worked the press. 
 Their business was printing and publishing; not writing 
 or editing. 
 
 THE FIRST MAGAZINE EDITED BY WOMEN. 
 
 The first magazine in this country which was managed 
 and edited solely by women was the Lowell Offering. It 
 originated in an ‘‘Improvement Circle,’’ in one of the 
 churches in Lowell, Mass. Operators in the Lowell mills 
 were its first editors, from 1842 to 1849. Its first motto 
 was: | 
 
 “The worm on the earth 
 May look up to the star.” 
 
 The articles were all written by factory girls, and 
 printed as written. Miss Lucy Larcom was then an 
 operative, and one of the magazine’s frequent contribu- 
 tors. This was when American girls of good parentage 
 were employed in the Lowell mills, and the factory com- 
 munity was inspired with the ideas of self-culture and a 
 better education. But when foreign born operatives 
 came in, the whole tone of factory society was changed, 
 and the Offering had to be abandoned, but it was a 
 marked power for good while it lasted. 
 
 PIONEER WOMEN IN JOURNALISM. 
 
 The first daily newspaper printed in the world was 
 established and edited by a woman—Hlizabeth Mallet, 
 in London, 1702—almost two hundred years ago. In 
 her salutatory she said she had established a newspaper 
 ‘‘to spare the public half the impertinences which the 
 ordinary papers contain.’? Woman-like, her paper was 
 reformatory. 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 51 
 
 The first newspaper published’ in America, of which 
 ‘we have any record, was in Massachusetts. It was 
 called the Massachusetts Gazette and News-Letter. 
 After the death of the editor, the widow edited it in the 
 most spirited manner for two or three years. It was the 
 only paper that did not suspend publication when Boston 
 was besieged by the British. The widow’s name was 
 Margaret Craper. 
 
 In 1732 Rhode Island issued its first newspaper. It 
 was owned and edited by Anna Franklin. She and her 
 two daughters did the printing, and their servants 
 ‘worked the printing press. History tells us that for 
 her quickness and correctness she was appointed printer 
 to the colony, supplying pamphlets, etc., to the colonial 
 Officers. She also printed an edition of the Colonial 
 Laws of 340 pages. 
 
 In 1776 Sarah Goddard printed a paper in Newport, 
 R. I., ably conducting it, afterward associating with her 
 John Carter. The firm was announced Sarah Goddard 
 & Co., taking the partnership precedence, as was proper 
 and right. 
 
 In 1772 Clementine Reid published a paper in Vir- 
 ginia, favoring the colonial cause, and greatly offending 
 the royalists; and two years after another paper was 
 started in the interests of the Crown, by Mrs. H. Boyle, 
 borrowing the name of Mrs. Reid’s paper, which was the 
 Virginia Gazette, but which was short lived. Both of 
 these papers were published in the town of Williamsburg. 
 ‘The colonial paper was the first newspaper in which the 
 Declaration of Independence was printed. 
 
 In 1773 Elizabeth Timothy published and edited a 
 
§2 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 paper in Charleston, 8. C. After the Revolution Anna 
 Timothy became its editor, and was appointed State 
 Printer, which position she held seventeen years. Mary 
 Crouch published a paper in Charleston about the same 
 time, in special opposition to the stamp act. She after- 
 wards removed her paper to Salem, Mass., and con- 
 tinued its publication there for years. 
 
 LUCY LARCOM. 
 
 Lucy Larcom has written a great many tender and 
 touching poems, for all of which she has been well paid.. 
 
 She has been for years a regular contributor to the _ 
 
 Atlantic Monthly Magazine, and in a late number she 
 gives a sketch of the factory girls of the Lowell Mills, 
 and of the social life which existed there when she was 
 one of the operatives and a writer for the Lowell Offer- 
 ing, which was published during the years inclusive of 
 1842 to 1849. Miss Larcom says: 
 
 ‘¢The home life of the mill girls, as I remember it im 
 my mother’s family, was nearly like this: Work began 
 at 5 o’clock on summer mornings, and at daylight in the 
 winter; breakfast was eaten by lamp-light during the 
 cold weather; in summer an interval of half an hour was: 
 allowed for it between 7 and 8 o’clock. The time givem 
 for the noon meal was from a half to three-quarters of 
 an hour.. The only hours of leisure were from half-past 
 7 or 8 to 10 in the evenings, the mills closing a little ear- 
 lier on Saturdays. It was an imperative regulation that 
 lights should be out at 10. During that two evening 
 hours when it was too cold for the girls to sit in their 
 own rooms, the dining-room was used as a sitting room, 
 
THE PROFESSION OF JOURNALISM. 53 
 
 where they gathered around the tables and sewed or 
 read, wrote and studied. It seems a wonder to look 
 back upon it and see how they accomplished so much as 
 they did in their limited allowance of time. They made 
 and mended their own clothing, often doing a good deal 
 of unnecessary fancy work besides; they subscribed for 
 periodicals, took books from the libraries, went to sing- 
 ing school, conference meetings, concerts and lectures, 
 watched at night beside a sick girl’s bedside, and did 
 double work for her in the mill if necessary; and on 
 Sundays they were at church, not differing in appear- 
 ance from other well-dressed and decorous young women. 
 Strangers who had been sitting beside them in a house of . 
 worship were often heard to ask, on coming out: ‘ But 
 where were the factory girls? ”’ 
 
 Lucy Larcom was a factory girl when she wrote the 
 beautiful pathetic poem which first brought her to the 
 notice of the public, and which we publish elsewhere. It 
 is a labor song, one of the plain, homely occupations 
 which are now controlled principally by machinery 
 which neither suffers nor thinks. 
 
=CHAPTER Vie 
 Vhes Profession #of« Lsaw. 
 
 It often falls in course of common life, 
 That right long time is overborne of wrong, 
 Through avarice, or power, or guile, or strife 
 That weakens her and makes her party strong, 
 But justice, though her doom she do prolong, 
 Yet at the last she will her own cause right. 
 
 * HERE are some thirty practicing: 
 women lawyers in the United States, 
 although Miss Ellen A. Martin, of 
 Chicago, who has compiled a list of 
 them, gives but twenty-six. Miss. 
 Martin is herself established in the 
 law, in connection with Miss Perry, both 
 ladies being graduates of the Michigan 
 University, where more lady lawyers have: 
 graduated than anywhere else. There are 
 two lady lawers in Tiffin, O., but none in 
 Cincinnati. Half adozen ladies have been 
 admitted to practice in the United States: 
 Circuit Court, and among these Mrs. Belva 
 : Lockwood stands the highest for real legal 
 acumen and ability. The newspapers thus describe Mrs. 
 Lockwood’s appearance and characteristics when she 
 was admitted to the bar: “ Supported on either side by 
 
 v 
 
 Se, ER TS 
 J a a Ga ae Sa 
 
i 
 ag 
 
 | 
 || 
 
 SS ES ee ee ee = ———— é i 
 
 Hf 
 
 MRS. BELVA LOCKWOOD, 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LAW. 55 
 
 Judge Shellabarger and Hon. Jeremiah Wilson, and 
 accompanied by friends and admirers outside of the 
 legal profession, sat Mrs. Belva A. Lockwood within 
 the sacred precincts of the bar of the Supreme Court of 
 the United States, from high noon Monday until after 4 
 o’ clock, waiting, not for a verdict, but for an opportunity 
 to present herself, under the new law for admission to 
 the bar. She was dressed neatly ina plain black velvet 
 dress, with satin vest and cloth coat, cut 4 ?homme, and 
 with gold buttons, a neat white ruffle round the neck and 
 cuffs, black kid gloves, a tiny bouquet on the right lapel 
 of the coat, the well-known gold thimble, with the addi- 
 tion of a miniature pair of scissors in gold, suspended at 
 the throat, completed the costume; the head was uncov- 
 ered, the hair being rolled back from the face and fast- 
 ened in a knot by a comb at the back.’ Mrs. Lockwood 
 was duly admitted, and has won a large and successful 
 practice. | , 
 
 Miss Kate Kane has the honor of being the first lady 
 lawyer to whom permission has been granted to practice 
 in a Milwaukee court. The lady studied at the Ann 
 Arbor University of Michigan, and completed her legal 
 education at a law office at Janesville, Wis. It is said of 
 her that she is a bright, spirited, and fine looking woman 
 of unimpeachable moral character and indomitable will. 
 Her reception in court almost partook of an ovation, 
 being invited inside of the bar and introduced to the 
 judge, sheriff, clerk, and principal lawyers, by all of 
 whom she was warmly welcomed. 
 
 Judge Albion W. Tourgee, the accomplished jurist 
 and author, bestowed a legal diploma at Raleigh, North 
 
56 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Carolina, upon the first lady lawyer of that State, mak- 
 ing, as he did so, a grand and thrilling speech in recog- 
 nition of the divine right of woman to succeed in any 
 work she fitted herself for. 
 
 Mrs. Myra Bradwell, of Illinois, the editor of the Chi- 
 cago Legal News, demonstrates what a quick-witted, 
 energetic woman can accomplish in business. Not only 
 does she edit and publish one of the most valuable and 
 success{ul periodicals devoted to the interests of the 
 legal fraternity, but as soon as the Illinois Legislature 
 adjourns, she goes to Springfield personally, makes a 
 careful copy of all the enactments of the session, and — 
 publishes them in a well-bound volume. Although a 
 pioneer in legal work, Mrs. Bradwell has never been 
 admitted to the bar, a State law preventing the admis- 
 sion of a married woman. 
 
 Any of the ladies whose names are here mentioned 
 would, no doubt, answer the questions of others of 
 their sex anxious to learn the preparatory steps of a 
 legal education, if corresponded with on the subject; 
 but let the questions be briefly and lucidly stated, and 
 at least two three-cent postage stamps enclosed for an 
 answer, thus covering the expense of paper and postage, 
 the more valuable time being a free contribution. As 
 time is money with professional women as well as men, 
 make your communication so short that a few strokes of 
 the pen will ans ver it. For the better guidance of young 
 ladies not accustomed to business letters, a brief form is 
 appended: 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LAW. 57 
 
 West Brancu, Penn. 
 
 DraR Mapam: 
 
 Will you kindly inform me what steps 
 to take preparatory toa course of instruction in the law; what 
 books to buy; what college is the best and cheapest for a woman 
 student? Hoping this will not demand too much of your valu- 
 
 able time, I remain, 
 Gratefully yours, 
 SUSAN SHARPE. 
 
 The next thing is to have town or postoflfice address, 
 county and State, plainly recorded. It is unnecessary 
 to give any other reason, than the one implied for asking 
 the advice of the person written to, as it is evident you had 
 heard of her standing, and the letter suggests a compli- 
 ment to her position and authority. You will not write 
 again after receiving the answer, except a brief line of 
 thanks, unless the lady herself specifies her willingness 
 to be of service to you. There should be a natural Free- 
 masonry among women as among men, to assist each 
 other by voluntary contributions of help; but some- 
 times success hardens the finer feelings, and the woman 
 _ who has reached an eminence, is only too willing to for- 
 get the helping hand that was extended to her; still, 
 there are plenty who will give generously of their pros- 
 perity, by helping others to the isolated plateaus of 
 SUCCESS. 
 
 The Michigan University at Ann Arbor, Mich., and 
 the Boston University Law School, are popular institu- 
 tions for ladies to study law in. 
 
58 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 A LAW FOR THE MARRIED WOMAN—INDIANA LEGIS- 
 LATION. 
 
 Previous to the enactment of the following statutes, & 
 married woman of Indiana, doing business in her own 
 name, with the consent and co-operation of the husband, 
 could not collect a single bill of money owed her, by 
 law. Section 4 seems to need a little elucidation, but. 
 time will probably make that as just as the rest: 
 
 Section 1. Be it enacted by the general assembly of the 
 State of Indiana, a married woman may bargain, sell, assign, 
 and transfer her separate personal property the same as if she 
 were sole. 
 
 Sec. 2, A married woman may carry on any trade or busi- 
 ness, and perform any labor or service on her sole and separate 
 account. The earnings and profits of any married woman, 
 accruing from her trade, business, service of labor, other than 
 labor for her husband or family, shall be her sole and separate 
 property. 3 
 
 Sec. 3. A married woman may enter into any contract in 
 reference to her separate personal estate, trade, business, labor, 
 or service, and the management and improvement of her separ- 
 ate real property, the same as if she were sole, and her separate 
 estate, real and personal, shall be liable therefor on execution or 
 other judicial process. 
 
 Sec. 4. No conveyance or contract made by a married 
 woman, for the sale of her land or any interest therein, other 
 than leases for a term not exceeding three years, and mortgages 
 on lands, to secure the purchase money of such lands, shall be 
 valid, unless her husband shall join therein. 
 
 Src. 5. A married woman shall be bound by the covenants. 
 of title in deed of conveyance of her real property. 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LAW. 5o 
 
 Src. 6. A married woman may bring and maintain an action 
 in her own name against any person or body corporate for dam- 
 ages for any injury to her person or character, the same as if she 
 were sole; and the money recovered shall be her separate prop-- 
 erty, and her husband, in such cases, shall not be liable for 
 costs. : 
 
 Src. 7. Whenever the husband causes repairs or improve- 
 ments to be made on the real property of the wife, with her 
 knowledge and consent thereto in writing delivered to the con- 
 tractor or person performing labor or furnishing material, she 
 alone shall be liable for materials furnished or labor done. 
 
 Src. 8. A husband shall not be liable for any debts con- 
 tracted by the wife in carrying on any trade, labor or business. 
 on her sole and separate account, nor for improvements made 
 by her authority on her separate real property. 
 
 Sxzc. 9. Whenever a judgment is recovered against a mar- 
 ried woman, her separate property may be sold on execution to- 
 ‘satisfy the same, as in other cases, Provided, however, that. 
 her wearing apparel and articles of personal adornment pur- 
 chased by her, not exceeding $200 in value, and all such jew- 
 elry, ornaments, books, works of art and vertu, and other effects. 
 for personal or household use as may have been given to her as 
 presents, gifts, and keepsakes, shall not be subject to execution; 
 and, provided further, that she shall hold as exempt, except for 
 _ the purchase money therefor, other property to the amount of 
 $300, to be set apart aud appraised in the manner provided by 
 law for exemption of property. 
 
 Suc. 10. A married woman shall not mortgage or in any 
 manner encumber her separate property acquired by descent, 
 devise, or gift, as a security for the debt or liability of her hus- 
 band or any other person. 
 
‘60 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO, 
 
 HOW THE LAW PROTECTS WOMEN IN MICHIGAN, 
 
 An examination into the laws of the State of Michigan 
 -will show that woman has more privileges than man, and 
 that there at least the latter may be safely trusted to 
 legislate for his mother, sister, wife, and daughter. The 
 State gives each sex equal educational advantages. A 
 ‘woman can obtain not only as broad a literary and scien- 
 tific training at the University as man, but she can also 
 obtain a special education in the several professional 
 departments. She is not precluded from obtaining a 
 livelihood in any of the avenues of industry. Men can 
 ‘be imprisoned in all personal actions for damages, except 
 those arising from open contract, and even in these 
 where there has been fraud or breach of trust, or where 
 ‘moneys have been collected in any professional employ- 
 ment. Women can not be imprisoned in any civil action. 
 Women are allowed an attorney fee where judgment not 
 exceeding twenty-five dollars for personal services are 
 obtained before a justice of the peace. A woman’s 
 honor is protected by the most stringent provisions. A 
 wife has a life interest in all the real estate which her 
 husband has owned during her marriage. He can not 
 deed or will this away from her; he can not sell or mort- 
 gage his homestead without her consent; but she can do 
 both, or either, without his consent. After he dies she 
 ‘is entitled to the rents and profits of his homestead, if 
 there are no children, during her widowhood, unless she 
 is the owner of a homestead in her own right. A wife 
 who signs a note for money loaned her husband, can not 
 ‘be compelled to pay it, but a husband who gives a note 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LAW. 61. 
 
 for money loaned his wife, is not correspondingly privi- 
 leged. 
 
 A woman can obtain a divorce from her husband who: 
 is able to support her but does not, and the husband is. 
 compelled to pay his wife’s counsel fees and other legal 
 expenses in contesting the suit; in short, a wife has full, 
 complete and absolute control over all her own property, 
 real and personal, whether acquired before or after her 
 marriage, and she may contract, sell, transfer, mortgage, 
 convey, devise and bequeath the same without any con- 
 trol on the part of her husband. There are several other 
 particulars which could be specified wherein the law of 
 the state discriminates in favor of women, but enough 
 has been mentioned to show that men can make as good. 
 laws for women as women would make for themselves. 
 
 MRS. JUDITH ELLEN FOSTER, LADY LAWYER. 
 
 Miss Frances KE. Willard writes an interesting sketch. 
 of this lady, from which the following is condensed. 
 Mrs. Foster is the wife of Hon. E. C. Foster, lawyer and 
 politician of Clinton, Iowa, and her biographer says: 
 
 “She read law first for his entertainment, and afterwards by 
 his suggestion and under his supervision. She pursued a sys- 
 tematic course of legal study, with, however, no thought of 
 admission to the bar. She read with her babies about her such 
 learned tomes as Blackstone and Kent, Bishop and Strong, 
 instead of amusing herself with fashion plates or fiction. She 
 never had an ambition for public speaking or public life. 
 Although reared in the Methodist church, she had never, until 
 the time of the temperance crusade, heard a woman preach or 
 lecture; but when that trumpet blast resounded, she, in common. 
 
G2 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 with her sisters, responded to the call, and lifted up her voice 
 in protest against the iniquity of the drink traffic. Her accept- 
 ance with the people just at the time when she had completed 
 her legal studies seemed a providential indication, and her hus- 
 band said: ‘If you can talk before an audience you can talk 
 before a court or jury,’ and he insisted on her being examined 
 for admission to the bar. Prior to this time she had prepared 
 pleadings and written arguments for the courts, but without 
 formal admission she could not personally appear. She was 
 examined, admitted, and took the oath to ‘support the constitu- 
 tion and the laws.’ Mrs. Foster was the first woman admitted 
 to practice in the State Supreme Court. She defended a woman 
 under sentence of death, and after a ten days’ trial, in which our 
 lady lawyer made the closing argument, the verdict of the jury 
 was modified to imprisonment for life. Mrs. Foster enjoys the 
 -absolute confidence and support of her husband in her legal 
 work. He was her instigator, and more than any other, rejoices 
 an 3t.” 
 
 One of the most successful women in law is Miss 
 Lavinia Goodell, of Janesville, Wis., who, some years 
 ago, was employed in literary work in the office of Har- 
 per’s Bazar—a shrewd, quick-witted girl, fond of humor, 
 studious and argumentative. In person she was of 
 medium height, but looking tall from her slender, erect 
 figure, blue-eyed, and with light brown curling hair. 
 At the request of her parents she resigned her position 
 and joined them in the West. She had long had a taste 
 for legal reading, and displayed decided talent for trans- 
 acting business, and in her early girlish days secretly 
 thought she should like to be a lawyer. But at that 
 time such a career seemed impossible for her, and she 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LAW. 63 
 
 gave it up as soon as the idea had taken shape, to do the 
 duty that lay nearest to her. 
 
 After joining her parents she was undecided what she 
 should do. Then arose the old longing to study law. 
 She had the leisure for it, and her father encouraged her 
 in it. A lawyer in the town was willing to help her, and 
 so she began to study, without, however, seeing her way 
 clear to the practice of the law. She continued her read- 
 ing, becoming more and more absorbed init. At the end 
 of three years of study she decided to apply for admis- 
 sion to the Circuit Court, was examined, passed a bril- 
 liant examination, and was admitted. She then opened 
 -an office and proceeded in a perfectly business-like way 
 to practice her profession. She won her first suit in a 
 justice’s court, and, the defendants appealing, she won 
 it again in the Circuit Court. This success gained her 
 considerable reputation, and gave her a good start. 
 ‘Then she had some criminal defenses and collections, 
 resulting in suits, in which she had fair success. But a 
 case which extended her reputation throughout the 
 country was involving considerable money, in which her 
 client was a woman. The case was carried from the 
 ‘County and Circuit Court, and appealed from them to 
 the Supreme Court, where Miss Goodell won. According 
 to the law of the State at that time, her admission to the 
 ‘Circuit Court, at the outset of her legal career, admitted 
 cher to all the courts in the State but the Supreme Court. 
 Upon carrying up her case and applying for admission 
 ‘to this, the Chief Justice refused her, on the ground of 
 sex. She afterwards reviewed his opinion on her own 
 case, and unquestionably had the better of him in the 
 
64 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 argument. She also prepared a bill and sent it to the 
 State Legislature, providing that no person should be 
 refused admission to the bar on account of sex. A peti- 
 tion asking for its passage was signed by the Cireuit 
 Judge and every member of the bar in the county, and it 
 passed, although strongly contested by the opposing 
 party. ? 
 
 Miss Goodell records it as a notable fact, that her best. 
 paying clients have been women. 
 
—8eC HAPTER V1.8 
 
 Whe % Lvrsfessisn # of # [Pedicinég. 
 
 —" 
 
 V 
 SS 
 
 EF ‘you were always thinking, be- 
 cause you had studied a man’s pro- 
 fession, that no one would think of 
 you as a woman, do you think that 
 could make any difference to a man 
 
 ~ that had the soul of a man in him? 
 
 ‘‘T don’t give up because I’m unfit as a 
 
 i> \ 
 
 E? 
 
 Ye A. le: 
 Bie PM 7% of 
 
 SY = woman. I might be a man, and still be im- 
 mee pulsive and timid and nervous. 
 ; me ‘‘Hvery woman physician has a double dis- 
 
 A advantage that I hadn’t the strength to over- 
 
 Y? come—her own inexperience and the distrust 
 
 © ® of other women.”—Dr. Breen’s Practice by 
 W. D. Howells. 
 
 THE WOMAN DOCTOR. 
 
 It is only a few years since the idea of a woman enter. 
 ing the profession of medicine and graduating as a doc. 
 tor was something so quixotic, if not actually absurd, 
 that any girl who alluded to such a vocation was rea- 
 soned with and talked to as if she had contemplated 
 moral suicide. Less than fifty years ago, when diseases 
 
 were usually classed under the heads of colds or fevers, 
 5 65 
 
66 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 a patient who was sick enough to need medical attention 
 was waited on by a pompous, elderly sort of person who 
 brought the whole pharmacopeeia of medicine with him 
 in his saddle bags. When he had examined the patient’s 
 tongue, felt his pulse, and consulted an old silver fob 
 watch, with grave and decorous air; he either bled or 
 blistered—frequently did both—and gave copious doses 
 of salts and senna, tinct. rhubarb, and a calomel pill of 
 colossal size. If the patient grew worse his head was 
 
 shaved; and if the fever ran high he was forbidden a | 
 
 drop of water to cool the tip of his tongne, nor could he 
 eat anything but arrow root and water gruel. If it was 
 the old typhus fever, which adults generally had in 
 those’ days, the fight was a long, hard one, for, between 
 the treatment and the fever, there was not much chance 
 of life, except in the remedial art of nature. Medical 
 science has now discovered a number of new diseases, 
 and developed corresponding cures. The old saddle-bag 
 dispensary has passed out of sight, and a fever-stricken 
 patient is no longer depleted by phlebotomy. 
 
 Among the new dispensations of the science of medi- 
 cine the lady doctor takes a prominent part. What 
 would the Dr. Johnsons or the Abernethys, of the old 
 regime, think if they were called upon to consult with 
 Dr. Mary Jacobi of New York, Dr. Nancy Hill of Iowa, 
 Dr. Gertrude Banks or Dr. Helen Warner of Michigan, 
 all ladies of the highest medical standing, with diplomas 
 from the best medical colleges in the land, with an 
 annual practice each of several thousand dollars, repre- 
 senting individually the States of New York, Iowa, and 
 Michigan. The utmost recognition these skillful scien- 
 
 digs 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 67 
 
 tific doctors could have gained from the old-time medical 
 man would have been, ‘‘ My good woman, you will make 
 an excellent nurse, you shall have my endorsement.”’ 
 
 “INTERESTING STATISTICS. 
 
 Yet it does not belong to this century to bestow on 
 ‘woman the first medical diploma. In 1799 Mara Zega 
 ‘was a doctor of medicine in Europe, and in Padua there 
 were famous doctresses. Laura Bassi was elected pro- 
 fessor of experimental physics in 1793. The universities 
 of Kurope had rare and exceptional cases of women who 
 excelled as surgeons, and were highly esteemed for their 
 skill. A number of ladies, some of them members of 
 noble families, graduated both in law and medicine at 
 Padua, in the beginning of the last century. The first 
 ‘woman who was ever granted a diploma in the medical 
 profession in America was Elizabeth Blackwell, who, in 
 1855, was admitted to the hospital of St. Bartholomew, 
 ain London, as walking physician. Ten years later she 
 gave medical lectures in that city, which challenged the 
 attention and respect of the whole medical fraternity. 
 Dr. Blackwell founded the New York Infirmary, where 
 6,000 patients were treated in one year. Mrs. Mary 
 Jacobi, of New York, is another successful and promi- 
 nent physician who studied abroad and has successfully 
 competed with the best medical talent of both the New 
 and the Old World. 
 
 In 1876 the College of Physicians of Dublin opened its 
 doors to women, and has graduated a number since that 
 time. 
 
 In 1877 the senate of the London University passed a 
 
68 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 resolution in favor of admitting women. A strong debate 
 ensued. The resolution was opposed by a few medical 
 men, but it passed, and women are now admitted to lec- 
 tures and the usual degrees. | 
 
 In 1878 a ukase was published in Russia, admitting. 
 - women to all its medical schools. 
 
 In 18738 the Berne University admitted lady stademe 
 and in 1875 there were thirty-two ladies in the medical 
 department. 
 
 In 1876 the fifteen universities of Italy were in like 
 manner thrown open to ladies, and in 1873 a lady gradu- 
 ate took her degree at Pisa. 
 
 In 1870 the Vienna University admitted women to the 
 medical degree, and in 1878 a lady student took the 
 prize in operative surgery. 
 
 In Russia twelve female doctors are now officially 
 engaged in teaching medicine to women; thirty are in 
 the service of the Zemstras, and forty others are serving: 
 in the hospitals. Twenty-five female doctors who took 
 part in the military operations of 1877 have been decor- 
 ated by order of the Emperor, with the order of St. Stan- 
 islas of the third class. The number of woman stu- 
 dents in Russia is steadily increasing. 
 
 There is always among the Sisters of Mercy and in the 
 Catholic hospitals one sister competent to compound and 
 administer medicines, and prescribe successfully for the 
 sick. 
 
 In 1870 a state decree in Holland opened the depart- 
 ment of apothecaries to women, and in 1873 the Univer- 
 sity of Groningen, Sweden, passed the first lady gradu- 
 ate in medicine. 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 69 
 
 The great Swedish University at Apral has thrown its 
 doors open, without restriction of sex, except in theology 
 and law. 
 
 In 1875 the College of Physicians and Surgeons of 
 -Ontario, at Toronto, gave its first degree to a woman. 
 
 The first medical school for women was founded in | 
 1848, in Boston, by Elizabeth Blackwell. 
 
 There are some twenty-five ladies in the Paris School 
 of Medicine, and in 1870, or thereabouts, Miss Mary Put- 
 man applied to the Paris School of Medicine and was 
 admitted. Mrs. Garret Anderson followed her, and these 
 ladies afterwards took their degrees from the Ecole de 
 Medecine. 
 
 Of 198 students in the Boston University School of 
 Medicine, a few years ago, 79 were women, and the 
 report from the directors was that the influences of the 
 Sexes was naturally beneficial. A letter from one of the 
 _ principals of the Cleveland Homeopathic Hospital Col- 
 lege says: ‘‘Inso far as woman’s presence exerts any 
 influence upon man, there can be no question as to its 
 character and degree. It is broad, decided, and most 
 healthful. It is an influence of restraint on rudeness, 
 boorishness, and vulgarity.”’ The University of Michi- 
 gan Homeopathic College says: | 
 
 ‘‘The experience of two winters in the University has 
 incontestably proved that the practice is fraught with 
 benefit to both teachers and men and women students.”’ 
 ‘The allopathic departments are even more enthusiastic. 
 
 The woman physician has the same course of study to 
 take, the same results to show, and the same recommend- 
 ation to the public that the male physician has, a 
 
70 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 diploma from a medical college, and a certificate fron» 
 the State Board of Health. In the end the public must 
 be its own best tribunal, for mistakes are frequently 
 made in the name of science, not only by women but by 
 men, and the people, in either case, are the sufferers. 
 As Carlyle has aptly said: ‘‘Against stupidity the gods: 
 are powerless.’’ In London a public hospital advertised 
 for a medical man. The English people are the most 
 conservative people in the world, yet, when Dr. Anna 
 Clark applied for the situation, and submitted her testi- 
 monials, she was unanimously elected. 
 
 In Chicago there are several lady doctors who fill 
 chairs at the colleges of medicine belonging to the dif- 
 ferent schools. There are over fifty practicing female 
 doctors in that city, and in several instances both hus- 
 band and wife are medical practitioners in different: 
 schools. And just here arises a question of medical 
 ethics which has been put to a severe test by the recent: 
 trial of Dr. Pardee of the State Medical Society of Con- 
 necticut. After ten years of happy married life, Mrs. 
 Pardee studied medicine herself, and became a graduate: 
 of a homeopathic school of medicine in New York. She 
 set up her sign on one door-post, her husband’s remain- 
 ing on the other, and in a very little while she had a suc- 
 cessful practice of her own. The success of Dr. Pardee 
 and his wife, Dr. Emily Pardee, seems to have led to an 
 investigation of their professional relation by the doctors. 
 of the regular medical school, and one evening the pair 
 received acall from one of them, who asked the male 
 Dr. Pardee if he consulted with his wife. The answer 
 was more forcible than polite, and the investigating doc- 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 71 
 
 tor returned no wiser than he came. There was a meet- 
 ing of the faculty of the State Medical Society, and they 
 discussed all the pros and cons in the matter, but failed 
 to come to a decision, or to substantiate the charges 
 _ against Dr. Pardee, and the State Society referred it back 
 to the County Society for further action. 
 
 Meanwhile the buggies of the two doctors came round 
 to the door as usual, took the doctors on their several 
 rounds, and, when the drive was over, the homeopathic 
 and the allopathic horse ate their hay out of the same 
 rack, and the two Drs. Pardee sat down to dine together. 
 
 In Detroit, Michigan, one of the most conservative of 
 old established cities, as well as one of the most wealthy 
 and beautiful, woman doctors have long since ceased to 
 be a novelty. The best surgeons and doctors in the 
 place consult with them, and they have all the business 
 they can attend to, and are remarkably successful in dif- 
 ficult and severe cases. A number of female students in 
 clinics attend the different hospitals, and are in training 
 for nurses and physicians. At the Michigan College of 
 Medicine, located there, they are admitted to lectures 
 and classes, and to the practice of the dissecting room. 
 Fair-haired, blue-eyed women, with delicate, nervous 
 organizations, who are represented as too weak for such 
 an arduous course of study, will cheerfully lop off a limb 
 from a subject on the dissecting table when the interests 
 of science demand it. 
 
 AMUSING INCIDENTS. 
 
 There is a ludicrous side to the work when women are 
 engaged in it, at times, that lightens its severity and 
 
72 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 shows that the female doctor is not yet universally 
 adopted. A farmer living near a large Western town 
 was sent in hurriedly to the city to bring the first doctor 
 he could find. He reined his horses up at the door of an 
 
 office bearing a doctor’s sign, went in, and looking at the _ 
 
 neat little lady in the consulting room, said hurriedly: 
 
 ‘<'W here’s the doctor? I want him right off.” 
 
 ‘*J am the doctor,’’ said the little lady quietly. 
 
 The man turned red, whistled, then looked perplexed. 
 
 ‘*Whew!’’ he said slowly, ‘‘I hadn’t calculated on a 
 woman doctor !”’ 
 
 ‘*No,’”’ said the doctor, smiling brightly, ‘‘a good 
 many people had not. Will you take me, or ride a few 
 blocks further for a doctor of your own sex ?”’ 
 
 The farmer looked at her and said grimly, ‘‘I haven’t 
 much time to wait. Jump in. I reckon Polly will be 
 glad to see you, anyhow.”’ 
 
 And Polly was glad, and has employed the lady doc- 
 tor ever since, when she or any of the family are ill. 
 
 When Charles Reade the English novelist, wrote his 
 brilliant story of ‘‘A Woman Hater,” he did more for 
 the advancement of woman, in the paths of medical 
 science, than whole years of legislation had done. He 
 won over to her side the prejudiced of her own sex. In 
 speaking of women in this work he says, in the closing 
 chapter: ‘‘They are. eternally tempted to folly, yet 
 snubbed the moment they would be wise. A million 
 shops spread their nets and entice them by their direst 
 foible. Their very mothers—for want of medical knowl- 
 edge in the sex—clasp the fatal idiotic corset on their 
 growing bodies, though thin as a lath, so the girl grows 
 
 ee 
 
hh ————| 
 wie wih 
 
 iin 
 
 “WHEW?! I HADN’T CALCULATED ON A WOMAN DOCTOR!" 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 13 | 
 
 up crippled in the ribs and lungs by her own mother; 
 and her life, too, is in stays—cabined, cribbed, confined. 
 Unless she can paint or act, or write novels, every path 
 of honorable ambition is closed to her. 
 
 I say that to open the study and practice of medicine 
 to women-folk, under the infallible safeguard of a stiff 
 public examination, will be to rise in respect for human 
 rights to the level of European nations, who do not brag 
 about just freedom half as loud as we do, and to respect 
 the constitutional rights of many million citizens, who all 
 pay the taxes like men, and by the contract with the 
 State, implied in that payment, buy the clear human 
 right they have yet to go down on their knees for. But 
 it will also impart into medical science a new and less 
 theoretical, but cautious, teachable, observant kind of 
 intellect; it will give the larger half of the nations an 
 honorable ambition and an honorable pursuit, toward 
 which their hearts and instincts are bent by nature her- 
 self; it will tend to elevate this whole sex, and its young 
 children, male as well as female, and so will advance the 
 civilization of the world, which in ages past, in our own 
 day, and in all times, hath and doth and will keep step © 
 exactly with the progress of women toward mental 
 equality with men. 
 
 THE LADY PHYSICIAN. 
 
 Oh, who is this, who casts her rose of youth 
 Beneath the feet of pain, nor fancieth 
 
 The lily of her ladyhood, in sooth, 
 Too white to bloom beside the couch of death? 
 
74 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 It is the woman-healer here who stands 
 With tender touch upon the cruel knife; 
 
 With thought-engraven brows and skillful hands, 
 And yearning heart to save the house of life. 
 
 Bless her, O women, for it was your call, 
 It was the myriad cry of your distress 
 
 That urged her outward from the cloistered hall 
 To make the burden of your anguish less. 
 
 Shine on her, stars, while forth she goes alone 
 Beneath the night, by angel pity led; 
 
 And shed such lustre as your rays have thrown 
 On bridal steps that shine with lover’s tread; 
 
 Her pathway scent, O flowers that deck the field, 
 
 As from her hurrying feet the dews are driven, 
 With no less fragrance than your clusters yield 
 By dimpled hands to happy mothers given. 
 
 And ye, O men, who watch her toilsome days 
 With doubted lip in half derision curled, 
 
 Scant not her meed of courtesies and praise, 
 The bloom and starlight of the spirit world. 
 
 For with a sense of loss too fine to own, 
 The nestward longing of the carrier dove, 
 She turneth from her first, entitled throne, 
 And all the household walks that women love. 
 
 The gracious ministers of little deeds 
 
 And service for the few, by love made sweet; 
 From these she turneth unto wider needs, 
 
 And pours her ointment on the stranger’s feet. 
 
 Perchance, amid the clash of busy days, 
 
 She may lay by a trick or two of charms, 
 May miss of those caressing, dainty ways 
 
 That women learn from babies in their arms.. 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 7/5 
 
 But even while the battle scars her face, 
 And makes her voice stern in the combat rude, 
 She but refines her best, peculiar grace, 
 And proves herself forgetful womanhood. 
 Katherine Lee Bates. 
 
 A PHYSIOLOGICAL PROPOSAL. 
 
 Miss Mary Flynn was a Boston girl who was studying 
 medicine, and Mr. Budd was her devoted admirer. One 
 evening while they sat together on the sofa, Mr. Budd 
 was wondering how he should manage to propose. Miss: 
 Flynn was explaining certain physiological facts for him. 
 
 ** Do you know,”’ she said, ‘‘ that thousands of people 
 are actually ignorant that they smell with their olfac- 
 tory peduncle.”’ 
 
 ** Millions of them,”’ said Mr. Buda. 
 
 ‘*And Aunt Mary wouldn’t believe me when I told her 
 she couldn’t wink without a sphincter muscle.”’ 
 
 ‘* How unreasonable!”’ 
 
 ‘* Why, a person can not kiss without a sphincter.’’ 
 
 ** Indeed.”’ 
 
 ‘*T know it is so.”’ 
 
 ‘* May I try if I can?’ 
 
 ‘*Oh, Mr. Budd, it is too bad for you to make light of 
 such a subject.”’ 
 
 Then he tried it, and while he held her hand she 
 explained to him about the muscles of that portion of 
 the human body. 
 
 ** Willie,’ whispered Miss Flynn, very faintly. 
 
 ‘What, darling ?’ 
 
 **[ can hear your heart beat.”’ 
 
 ‘‘Tt beats only for you, my angel.”’ 
 
76 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘*And it sounds as if out of order. The ventricular 
 contraction is not uniform.”’ 
 
 ‘«Small wonder for that, when it’s bursting with joy.” 
 
 ‘You must put yourself under treatment for it. I 
 will give you some medicine.”’ | 
 
 ‘Its your own property, darling; do what you please 
 with it.”’ 
 
 TO A LADY DOCTOR. 
 
 Yes, Doctor, your physic I’ve taken. 
 That surely should conquer my ills; 
 The bottle was solemnly shaken, 
 I dote on these dear little pills. 
 I’ve followed your rules as to diet, 
 I don’t know the taste of a tart; 
 But, though I’ve kept carefully quiet, 
 The pain’s at my heart. 
 
 Of course you’ve done good; convalescence 
 Seems dawning. And yet it is true, 
 
 I fancy the light of your presence 
 Does more than your physic can do. 
 
 I’m well when youre here, but, believe me, 
 Each day when fate dooms us to part 
 
 Come strange sensations to grieve me— 
 
 That must be the heart. 
 
 Your knowledge is truly stupendous, 
 Each dainty prescription I see, 
 Tread ‘‘ Haustus statam sumendus,” 
 What wonder you took the M. D.! 
 I hang on each word that you utter 
 With sage Aisculapian art, 
 But feel in a terrible flutter— 
 It comes from the heart. 
 
 , 
 4 
 v > 
 ry 
 Fl Ps 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. rae 
 
 Have you ever felt the emotion 
 That stethoscope ne’er could reveal? 
 If so, you'll perchance have a notion 
 Of all that I’ve felt, and still feel. 
 Oh, say, could you ever endure me? 
 Dear Doctor, you blush and you start. 
 There’s only one thing that can cure me— 
 Take me—and my heart! 
 
 Punch. 
 
 At a meeting of the Social Science Association, Dr. 
 Emily Pope read a paper on the Practice of Medicine by 
 Women in the United States. The object was to show 
 to what extent they were practicing medicine in this. 
 country; whether the majority of women graduates. 
 devote themselves to its practice; how far their pecu- 
 niary success shows a demand on the part of the public 
 for educated women physicians; what effect the strain of 
 practice has upon their health; and with what results 
 to their professional career. Dr. Pope’s report is as 
 follows: 
 
 “The 470 circulars sent out to woman physicians have brought 
 statistics showing that 390 are engaged in active practice, 11 
 never practiced, 29 have retired after practicing, 12 after mar- 
 riage, 7 retired from ill-health, and 5 have taken up other work. 
 These women are in 26 States, New York, Massachusetts, and 
 Pennsylvania having the largest proportion. Of those heard 
 from, 75 per cent. were single when they began the study, 19: 
 per cent. were married and 6 per cent. widows; average age 
 when they began the study, 27 years; 144 practiced less than 1 
 year; 123 between 5 and 10 years; 23 over 20 years; 341 prac- 
 ticed regular medicine; 13 homeopathy; 10 give no answer; 77 
 report that they supported themselves from the beginning of 
 their practice; 34 in less than 1 year; 57 after the first year; 34- 
 
‘18 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 in 2 years; 14 in 3 years; 10 in various periods over 8 years; 
 138 say their incomes are still insufficient, or make no reply; 12 
 never practiced; 22 are in hospital practice; 30 are not depen- 
 lent on professional income; only 11 are left who can fairly be 
 said to have practiced over two years without supporting them- 
 selves; 32 per cent. of these women have one or more partially 
 dependent on them; 269 are in general practice; 45 make a spe- 
 cialty of female diseases; 4 ophthalmology. Of 130 who have 
 practiced less than 5 years, 76 report health good; 51 health 
 improved; 3 health not good. Of 115 who practiced from 5 to 
 10 years, 58 report health good; 29, improved; 8, not good. Of 
 58 practicing 10 to 15 years, 25 report health good; 12, improved; 
 1, not good. Of 14 practicing 15 to 20 years, 13 are in good 
 health; 1, improved. Of 23 who have had over twenty years 
 experience, 15 are in good health; 1, improved; 1, not good. 
 Of the 13 reporting poor health, only 4 ascribe their illness to 
 practice. 
 
 “‘ When the large proportion of women who have practiced 
 from five to thirty years, is seen, without breaking down, but 
 with an improvement of their physical condition, it seems as if. 
 some unnecessary anxiety had been wasted on this point. We 
 do not think it would be possible to find a better record of 
 health among an equal number of women taken at random from 
 all the country. In fifteen States, women physicians are on an 
 equality with men as to membership in county and State socie- 
 ties. Sixty-five have married since their graduation, of whom 
 nineteen married physicians; fourteen ceased practice after mar- 
 riage, the others continue in practice; sixty-seven children have 
 been born to them (without inquiry, many report children strong 
 and healthy). In Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Iowa and Mich- 
 igan, women physicians have lately received appointments in 
 State institutions. The board of foreign missions have sent out 
 about twenty women physicians, all of whom have been success- 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE. 19 
 
 ful, obtaining practice where men could not. In every case their 
 -success has been marked. Women would prefer not to receive 
 all their education from women’s schools, as they want the best 
 to be had in all schools.” 
 
 For this, as for all other professions in which the stu- 
 -dent would compete successfully, there must be a cer- 
 tain aptitude, a love for the work, and a large amount of 
 firmness of will and physicial courage. A year or two 
 spent in the study of medicine, even if the practice is 
 -abandoned, would be a much better use of time than 
 spending it in idle accomplishments. It is always best 
 for the student to attend the college of her own State, 
 graduating from that and finishing her course by a year 
 of instruction abroad, or in some desirable institution in 
 -another State. Asa student her work never will cease. 
 ‘There must always be close, careful study, lectures to 
 -attend and experimental work to be done. She must 
 explore every nook of the wide field of science, testing 
 and laboring for humanity’s sake. There are many ills 
 _and few cures; but the young practitioner must always 
 remember this golden rule—relief is, next to a cure, the 
 best remedial agent. 
 
 The incomes of women doctors average one thousand 
 dollars a year. There are a few notables who receive as 
 high as eight or ten thousand, but there are also a 
 numerous class who do not have more than five or six 
 hundred a year. 
 
 Dr. Alice Stockham, who has for many years been a 
 ‘practicing physician in Chicago, and whose husband is 
 also a doctor, is the author of the following: 
 
80 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 REQUISITES FOR A PHYSICIAN. 
 
 “To be a successful physician a woman must be a lady—a 
 womanly woman. No aping of masculine habits, dress or foi 
 bles will conduce to success. She must have an affinity for the 
 work, feel at home in the sick room, with a desire and tact to 
 relieve suffering, devoid of any morbid sensibility at sight of 
 pain, offensive deformities and ghastly injuries and operations;, 
 she must be born to command, firm in purpose, and quick to 
 execute, at the same time have dignity and self-control. Nothing 
 must escape her observation. She must be able to reason from 
 cause to effect, strong in convictions, but slow to give an opin- 
 ion. She needs a love for scientific research, and the ability to 
 apply herself to study.” 
 
 Among the colleges which admit women on the same 
 terms with the male students, are the following: 
 
 The Woman’s Medical College, Philadelphia, Pa.;. 
 Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.; Bellevue Medi- 
 cal College, New York; University of Michigan, Ann 
 Arbor; Michigan College of Medicine, Detroit; Toronto: 
 University, Toronto, Ontario; Queen’s College, Kingston, 
 Ontario. 
 
—sC HAPTER VILe- 
 Whe * Profession ‘k ofs (Music. 
 
 S it any weakness, pray, to be wrought 
 upon by exquisite music, to feel its won- 
 drous harmonies searching the subtlest 
 windings of your soul, the delicate fibers 
 of life where no memory can penetrate, 
 as it binds together your whole being, 
 past and present, in one unspeakable 
 
 vibration.— Adam Bede. 
 
 ay, UFR Music resembles poetry; in each 
 ii < Are numerous graces which no method teach, 
 A And which a master-hand alone can reach.—Pope. 
 
 ** Come, sing to me of heaven, 
 Sing to me ere I die; 
 Sing songs of holy ecstasy, 
 To waft my soul on high.—-Old Hymn. 
 
 NEGLECTED MUSIC. 
 
 It is a well known fact, and one, too, upon whick 
 much unfavorable comment has been made, that almost: 
 as soon as a maiden becomes a wife and enters upon the 
 duties of a new existence, she ceases to practice the 
 accomplishment with which she was wont to amuse her- 
 self and entertain her friends, previous to her marriage. 
 One of the common excuses which a young wife has at 
 
 her command, when her husband asks her to play, is 
 26 81 
 
82 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 this: ‘‘I am all out of practice,’’ or, ‘‘ You know I 
 have not opened the piano for months.’’ This, too, before 
 other duties have interfered to occupy her time. It 
 would seem as if, having married and settled herself in 
 life, she had no further incentive to exert herself, and 
 after a year or two she finds that she has forgotten her 
 music, can no longer execute with ease, and does not 
 attempt the now arduous task of practicing an hour or 
 two every day, in order to learn a new piece. Her hus- 
 band is very fond of music, but soon finds that he is 
 dependent upon the good nature of visitors who do play. 
 These are usually young ladies who are quite willing to 
 entertain him and show off their own accomplishments. 
 I need not follow the suggestion any further, but human 
 nature is sometimes very weak, and the serpent too often 
 enters Eden disguised as an attractive siren. The fol- 
 lowing story ends happily, and may cause some serious 
 thinking, followed by a reform in the right direction, 
 before it is too late. It is an incident from real life, 
 related by a well-known music teacher of New York 
 city, and it contains a moral worthy of recognition by 
 wives: 
 TWICE IN LOVE. 
 
 Two years ago a card was brought into my music-room 
 bearing the name of a well-known and fashionable mar- 
 ried lady. Whenshe was ushered in I was surprised to 
 see so young looking a woman, though, to be sure, she 
 is not yet forty, and a fair complexion and clear blue 
 eyes made her look younger. She seemed a little embar- 
 rassed, but asked me to try her voice. I did so, and 
 found it uncultivated, but it was singularly fresh and 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MUSIC. - 83 
 
 sweet; in quality a light soprano. I told her so, and her 
 face flushed eagerly as she asked : 
 
 ‘Professor, could you teach me to sing?’ 
 
 *‘Yes,’’ I replied, ‘‘if you choose to apply yourself 
 earnestly.”’ 
 
 ‘*T will; and if you can manage it so that I need not 
 be seen, id that no one knows of it, I will take a lesson 
 every day.”’ 
 
 We made the best arrangement we could, and the lady 
 never failed to appear promptly at the hour. She was 
 $0 anxious and so persevering that she made the most 
 extraordinary progress, and when spring came her voice 
 had so strengthened and developed as to be almost 
 beyond recognition. 
 
 During the summer I heard nothing of her beyond 
 mention in the society papers of her being at Saratoga. 
 In the fall she called upon me, and taking both my hands 
 in hers, shook them earnestly as she said: 
 
 ‘Professor, I have come to thank you for making me 
 the happiest woman alive!” 
 
 She then told me that her husband, to whom she was 
 deeply attached, was passionately fond of vocal music, 
 and had always regretted that she could not sing to him. 
 
 She had never cultivated her voice before marriage, 
 and afterwards the coming of children and the claims 
 of society had prevented her attempting it. But an 
 unlucky day came when Mr. R—— made the acquaint- 
 ance of a lovely little widow, with a charming voice, who 
 was always ready and willing to sing sweet songs to him, 
 and he gradually fell into the habit of spending many of 
 his evenings with her. 
 
84. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 At heart devoted to his wife, he was unconscious of 
 nis gradual neglect of her, and would have been aston- 
 ished had she resented his open enjoyment of these tete- 
 a-tetes. About the widow I am not prepared to speak. 
 Mrs. R——,, like a sensible woman, did not resent it, but 
 undermined the enemy, as you will see. Her music les- 
 sons she kept a profound secret from her family. In the 
 summer they went, as usual, to Saratoga, and took pos- 
 session of one of the pretty cottages at the United States. 
 Hotel. 
 
 The morning after their arrival the local newspapers 
 contained a notice that the leading soprano of the Epis- 
 copal church was ill with a throat affection, and the con- 
 gregation was asked to make due allowance for the dis- 
 abled choir. The next morning (Sunday), Mr. R——.. 
 with two of the children, wended his way to the church 
 of his belief, Mrs. R—— having excused herself from. 
 accompanying them. 
 
 After the opening service the clergyman announced. 
 that a lady from New York had kindly volunteered to: 
 sing in place of the sick soprano, and, in consequence, 
 the musical programme would be the same as usual. A 
 few moments later a clear, sweet voice rang through the 
 church, touching the hearts of the people perhaps even 
 more through the exquisite expression and feeling which 
 the music had rendered than the qualities of the voice 
 itself. Mr. R— was fascinated, delighted, and inwardly 
 made comparisons between it and the bewitching widow, 
 not flattering to the latter. After the services were over 
 he eagerly sought the clergyman to enquire the name of 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MUSIC. 85 
 
 the charming soprano, whose face he had not been able 
 to see from his seat. 
 
 ‘‘Come with me and I will introduce you,’’ said the 
 clergyman, who knew Mr. R—— by reputation. They 
 entered the choir together, and the good man began, 
 ‘Miss Brown, permit me to introduce > when he 
 was interrupted by Mr. R ejaculating, ‘‘ Great 
 heavens, it is my wife!’ and place and company not- 
 withstanding, he gave her a hearty embrace in his 
 delight and surprise. To cut the story short, he fell 
 in love with her all over again, the singing siren was 
 forgotten, and I don’t believe you can find a happier 
 couple in this great city. Mr. R—— gave his wife a 
 magnificent set of diamonds, which she wears with a 
 great deal of pride. AJl of which really happened. 
 
 Music is one of the few accomplishments which can be 
 furned to account as a means of support. A good player 
 upon the piano—one who understands the whole theory 
 of music—can always find a few pupils if she is happy 
 in her method of imparting instruction. There are, to 
 be sure, a great many music teachers, but there are also 
 many pupils, and every year new ones are added to the 
 list, as children grow old enough to begin with their les- 
 sons. Fifty cents a lesson is considered a low price for 
 a good teacher; seventy cents to two dollars being the 
 rates employed by ordinary teachers, while professors of 
 the higher order of music receive from three to five dol- 
 larsa lesson. Music teachers make a commission upon 
 every piece of music they supply to their pupils. This 
 is only fair, as it costs the pupil no more than if pur- 
 chased from the dealer, who furnishes it to her teacher at 
 
86 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 wholesale rates, and saves the pupil the time and trouble 
 of making aselection. It sometimes happens that families 
 expect the music teacher to furnish the pieces at a lower 
 figure, and she deducts her commission rather than lose 
 their custom. This is taking an ungenerous advantage 
 of one who finds it hard enough at all times to eke out a 
 meager support, and is one of the many stumbling blocks. 
 which good, unthinking people place in the way of one 
 who seeks to earn an honest living, and which is not to 
 their credit in any way. 
 
 If a young teacher finds too much competition at fifty 
 cents a lesson, let her reduce the price until she estab- 
 lishes a name, and has proved that ‘‘nothing succeeds: 
 like success.’’ Then, with both ability and experience 
 to assist her, she can venture to assert her right to a 
 fair compensation for valuable service. 
 
 Teachers of the harp, guitar, violin, organ, zither, and 
 other instruments can be found in every town, who make: 
 a living out of teaching, but often a precarious one, 
 owing to the caprices of patrons, who withdraw their 
 custom at the most inopportune time. Of course ladies. 
 who find employment in schools, seminaries, or have an 
 established patronage of their own, are to be congratu- 
 lated, as even the drudgery of music is delightful in 
 comparison to many other methods of support. 
 
 Vocal music is also a source of revenue to its possessor. 
 A fine voice has always a commercial value, especially 
 very fine ones, such as that of Christine Nilsson, 
 Adeline Patti, or our own Clara Louise Kellogg, and 
 Annie Louise Cary. Each of the above-named has 
 made a large fortune by her voice, received the notes of 
 
THE PROFESSION OF MUSIC. 87 
 
 commerce for the notes of song in rich profusion, and 
 made fame as well as wealth. In music and in the 
 drama women are paid as well as men for their art. 
 
 And in this, as in other and less noble professions, 
 mediocrity can not reach the high vantage ground of 
 success. There may be a great army of singers whose 
 sweetest notes are never developed here, 
 
 wh who die 
 With all their music in them,” 
 
 an. une world is unconscious of its loss; but there are also 
 a number found in every community who not only sing 
 execrably themselves, but persist in teaching their execra- 
 ble methods to others, not for any compensation, but 
 through the force of example. There are others who are 
 not Parepas or Nilssons, but whose home-singing is a 
 source of constant gratification even to the educated ear. 
 There are few mothers who can not croon old nursery 
 songs to their children; but there are some whose melo- 
 dious numbers are educational in a high degree. In 
 music it is almost impossible, in this age, to make a fail- 
 ure; the critical public taste demands the best, both in 
 instrumental and vocal, and it is well to understand this 
 before lavishing money on a mediocre voice, or ee 
 to offer it. 
 
 PLAYING ON OLD PIANOS. 
 
 Sometimes we see an old piano standing in a house, 
 and hear parents say, ‘‘We thought it would do well 
 enough for the children to learn to play on.’’ They 
 have imbibed the idea that learning to run the fingers 
 over the keys is learning to play the piano, and no mat- 
 
88 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ter how much out of tune the instrument may be, ‘‘it 
 will do well enough to learn on.’”’ Such people forget 
 that a musical education is more an education of the ear 
 than it is of the fingers, and that every time a child 
 touches one of those old instruments which answers just 
 as well to learn on, ‘‘so far as the fingering is con- 
 cerned,’’ the ear becomes vitiated, the musical sense 
 blunted, and .a delicate perception of correct musical 
 sounds is rendered impossible. 
 
 MUSIC IN THE GERMAN SCHOOLS. 
 
 The Germans are among the most musical people in 
 the world, and while their children were taught music 
 in the public schools, it was found that the hand organs 
 about the streets were out of tune, and tended to vitiate 
 the youthful ear. Accordingly an effort was made to 
 put the vagrant instruments in tune, and keep them so; 
 but, failing to accomplish this, the government pro- 
 hibited the playing of such instruments on the streets. 
 It was thought necessary to preserve the delicacy of the 
 trained musical sense in the children, and so everything 
 that could vitiate it was discarded. 
 
 A lady who possessed a piano which had once been 
 good, and who was really unaware of the effect which 
 Time’s effacing fingers had wrought upon its ancient 
 brilliancy, asked a famous German pianist to perform 
 upon it, and after he had obligingly done so, was rash 
 enough to ask him what he thought of the instrument. 
 
 ‘*Since you press me for an opinion,’”’ replied the emi- 
 nent artist, ‘‘I will tell you first that your piano wants 
 new wires; and, secondly, that the hammers want new 
 
’ 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF MUSIC. 89 
 
 feather. And while you are about it,’’ he continued, 
 gradually boiling up, ‘‘with your new leather you had 
 better have new wood, and when your instrument is thus 
 repaired, the best thing you can do with it will be to 
 make it into firewood and have it burned.” 
 
 WHAT FOUR LADIES MAKE. 
 
 There are four ladies at present in the United States, 
 all foreigners, who are making large sums of money. 
 They are -Patti, Nilsson, Modjeska, and Langtry. 
 Madame Patti receives $4,400 a night. Of this she 
 pays $400 a night to M. Franchi, her agent. This 
 gives her $8,000 a week. She sang in New York three 
 times a week, and her pay then was $12,000. She will, 
 during her stay here, sing altogether thirty times under 
 the management of Mapleson, for which she will receive, 
 net, $120,000. She will, therefore, carry away with her 
 about $100,000. What Madame Nilsson gets for her ser- 
 vices amounts, on the average, to $4,000 a week for two 
 concerts. On a basis of fifty concerts she will make, 
 therefore, about $100,000, not much less than Patti, 
 though the latter sings fewer times. Mme. Modjeska 
 receives $1,000 daily. But this is a small average, 
 because the receipts often exceed that. During her 
 recent engagement at Booth’s, at regular prices, she did 
 much better. Her last week came up to $11,000 very 
 nearly. Say $10,000, and her individual share would be 
 $3,000. She is to play thirty weeks, and on an average 
 of $2,000 a week she would make $60,000. Allowing the 
 extra profit for expenses, that is about the net sum she 
 will make for the season. Mrs. Langtry’s contract with 
 
90 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Mr. Henry E. Abbey is that she shall receive thirty-three- 
 per cent. of the gross receipts each night. Mr. Abbey 
 pays the company and all other expenses. Supposing 2: 
 business of $1,500 a night—and thus far the receipts have 
 exceeded that, as Mrs. Langtry plays to higher pricu- 
 than other dramatic stars—she would be receiving $3,500 
 a week. It is interesting to note that four ladies wilk 
 carry with them out of the country $350,000 by the time 
 the season of 1883 ends. 
 
 i Sie lig vs BSW 
 
 ere a ee 
 — eS | ee ee ar © 
 
—sC HAPTER VIII3 
 
 Government Civvks, 
 6 
 
 PROMINENT daily paper, pub: 
 lished in London, Eng., has this to. 
 say of women clerks: 
 
 “There are many advantages in wo- 
 : men clerks. ‘They are found to be punc- 
 ae m2 tualand docile. Their good conduct and 
 ay” NR decorum after office hours insure a steady 
 attendance not broken down by ‘Derby’ head- 
 aches, or the drowsiness that follows nocturnal dis- 
 sipation. They have not that genius for getting 
 into debt, which is an indication of superiority dis- 
 played by their male colleagues, It is also worthy 
 of note, that the sluggishness of promotion, which 
 is one of the difficulties of all official careers where 
 men are concerned, is got rid of in the case of women. 
 No matter how closely they may restrict themselves to their 
 work from ten to four, the clever, clear-headed, vigorous young 
 girls who are government clerks are ready enough for society in 
 the evenings. They enter it with freshness of feeling, because 
 they have honestly earned relaxation; and the fact that they 
 are pecuniarily independent, enables them to meet men frankly 
 and on equal terms. Their very success in examination and in. 
 office life, implies their quickness, brightness, and good health,. 
 
 91 
 
92 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and these are the qualifications that tell in a sweetheart and 
 wife, as well as in 
 
 A POSTOFFICE CLERK. 
 
 The result is that they get married off with reasonable celer- 
 ity, and thus the official field is kept clear by the weeding out 
 of brides, who relinquish red-tape for orange blossoms, new girls 
 _ coming in to take their places. For those, however, who can 
 not or will not marry, the office duties provide a quiet, steady 
 and decorous career. Most of them live at home; many help to 
 support a relative; all have shown, by their docility and steadi- 
 ness, that a young woman is ready to work hard for half the 
 pay that will content a young man.” 
 
 There does not seem to be that fine and distinctive 
 sense of justice in the last statement that all liberal- 
 minded people would like to see exemplified, in equal 
 pay for equal work; but it is to be hoped that the 
 young man either did better work or supported more 
 relatives on his double amount of pay. In regard to gov- 
 ernment lady clerks in this country we have even a more 
 flattering picture. They are represented as more indus- 
 trious, more punctual, more painstaking, more obedient, 
 more patient than the men, in similar situations. It is 
 doubtful if anywhere in the world is assembled so large 
 a body of women as these employes, possessed of such 
 social virtues, such fine breeding, and such social accom- 
 plishments. Of course there are a few among them with 
 giddy heads or false hearts. Although there have been 
 some pretty faces that have married their owners to a 
 senator, a judge, a governor—in one instance to a for- 
 eign nobleman—no expectations of that romantic sort 
 are cherished by the rest. There is a certain proportion 
 
GOVERNMENT CLERKS. 93, 
 
 who go into the best society and shine there; in fact, 
 they have never left the society in which they were 
 reared. They change their office dress after the hours of 
 work are over fora calling suit, and then proceed to make 
 visits, and they attend such of the evening entertain- 
 ments as they please; being the daughters or widows of 
 admirals, senators, and other dignitaries of the past; the 
 daughters and wives of similar dignitaries of the present; — 
 being perfect ladies, they command the treatment of 
 ladies, and enjoy their social life. Among the ladies of 
 distinguished lineage in the Treasury Department at 
 Washington, are Mary E. Wilcox, adopted daughter of 
 General Jackson, and daughter of Donelson, who ran 
 with Fillmore for vice-president, and god-daughter of 
 Van Buren; Charlotte L. Livingston, whose husband 
 was a grandson of the distinguished chancellor; C. E. 
 Morris, a granddaughter of Robert Morris; Sophia 
 Walker, a daughter of Robert J. Walker, Polk’s secre- 
 tary of the treasury; Miss Dade, a descendant of John 
 ' Randolph, and niece of Winfield Scott; Helen McClean 
 Kimball, widow of General Kimball, killed in the Mexi- 
 can War; Sallie Upton, daughter of Francis Upton, of 
 Brooklyn; Mrs. Granger, the widow of General Gordon 
 Granger; Mrs. Tyndale, widow of the Hon. Sharon Tyn- 
 dale, of Springfield, I1l., and others. 
 
 Of course the F ariinity to secure such positions 
 was a great blessing to many widows and orphans of 
 gentlemen who had died in one branch or another of the 
 government service—women who had either starvation 
 or intolerable dependency before them. The salary of a 
 majority ot the clerks is nine hundred dollars a year, 
 
‘O4. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 paid monthly; a very few have one thousand dollars, and 
 a still smaller number enjoy a remuneration of twelve 
 hundred dollars. They go to the rooms which the gov- 
 ernment provides at nine o'clock in the morning, remain- 
 ing until four in the afternoon, and they work constantly 
 nearly all that time. It is not a position of emolument 
 without labor, by any means, and any who have imag- 
 ined the office a sinecure, will please read the following 
 detailed account of their duties : 
 
 They bend all day over their desks. 
 
 They copy letters from hour to hour, in round hand, 
 ‘without erasure. 
 
 They compute. 
 
 They keep books. 
 
 They make clean records in big ledgers. 
 
 They register bonds. 
 
 They print and cut, and file and sort. 
 
 They count with the accuracy and dexterity of 
 machines, and in a manner that it is perfectly won- 
 derful to observe} seeing and reckoning at a single 
 glance, not only the figures telling the denomination 
 of a bill, be they one or five, or twenty or a hundred, 
 but those also at the same time telling the date of the 
 series, and those which are to be found in a red-line, 
 both under the treasury seal and near the upper right 
 hand corner, thus keeping at once a double tally. They 
 have great skill, too, in making out the face of money 
 that has been injured by fire or water, masses of charred 
 rubbish that one would never dream to be anything but 
 embers, and that which has been water-soaked to a ball 
 of pulp, are restored by their patient research so that a 
 
GOVERNMENT CLERKS. 95 
 
 -good part of the original worth is made out and redeemed. 
 Having so little of their own, there is something pathetic 
 in the way in which they handle money by the million, 
 none of which has ever been known to stick to their 
 fingers. 
 
 For many years all the writing and copying work was 
 given out at the department for ladies to take to their 
 homes, and it was paid for under a tariff of ten cents for 
 -every hundred words. This was before the era of female 
 clerkships, when a lady was supposed to lose caste by 
 -doing anything in the shape of public work. For the 
 past twenty odd years, however, the ladies engaged in 
 ‘department work have been admitted to formal clerk- 
 ships, with stated salaries. 
 
 The Treasury, Postoffice, Patent offices, the Smith- 
 ‘sonian Institute, and Pension Office all employ a num- 
 ber of ladies, but it is next to impossible ever to find a 
 vacancy, owing to the fact that a lady in office who 
 ‘intends to resign—and this is equal to the oft-quoted 
 remark, that few die and none resign—knows immedi- 
 ately of an acquaintance or friend who has capabilities 
 for the work, and who steps in as she steps out. Women 
 without influence, political or other, can not expect to 
 gain the position simply because they can perform the 
 duties. Five hundred women could do that. We hear 
 sad stories of delicate, high-bred girls who have lingered 
 year after year at the capital, filling inferior positions, 
 while waiting—waiting for a seat in congressional halls. 
 ‘One bright girl did get in by perseverance and pluck, if 
 -her story is true. Here it is: 
 
96 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 HOW ONE WOMAN GOT INTO THE DEPARTMENT. 
 
 Cne bright morning the Hon. John Sherman was sit- 
 ting in his office when suddenly a bright-haired, pretty 
 girl dashed into his presence. She was apparently six- 
 teen, and had about her an air of business which even 
 the cold gaze of the Ohio statesman could not transform 
 into maiden fright or flurry. Deliberately taking a seat. 
 the girl said: 
 
 “Mr, Sherman, I have come here to get a place.” 
 
 “There are none vacant,” was the frigid reply. 
 
 “J know you can give mea place if you want to,” persisted 
 the girl,” and I think I am as much entitled to it as anybody. 
 My father spent his life in the United States army, and when 
 he died he left nothing. The responsibility of the family rests 
 ‘on me, and I think I have as good a claim as anyone on the 
 government.” ' 
 
 “ What kind of place do you want ?” asked Mr, Sherman, com- 
 pelled to say something. 
 
 “T don’t care what it is, but I must have work at once.” 
 
 Mr. Sherman assured her that there were dozens of 
 applicants for every one place, and there was very little 
 chance. 
 
 She very deliberately told him that such an answer 
 would not do, and declared if he would allow her she 
 would come up every day and black his shoes for him if 
 he couldn’t do better for her. 
 
 The secretary was struck with her determination and 
 charmed by her bright face and her sprightly manner. 
 He told her to come back. In less than a week she had. 
 a good place in the treasury, which she still holds. 
 Every morning she walks to the department with the 
 
i 
 
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 A 
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 Nh SSS TE 
 HH HH 
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 MMI Hh MAN) 
 1 A | hill Wiliitt 
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 Sa AN ANN 
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 TNL 
 
 **MR. SHERMAN, § HAVE COME TO GET A PLACE.” 
 
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 Hi 
 
GOVERNMENT CLERKS. 97 
 
 step of a business woman, who is proud that her delicate 
 hands can be the support of others. She receives one 
 hundred dollars a month, and supports in comfort her 
 mother and sister. This brave and successful young 
 woman is Miss May Macaulay, formerly of Atlanta, 
 Georgia. Her father was a lieutenant in the 18th 
 ’ infantry. 
 
 Another account of the treasury girl may not be amiss 
 here. Itis from the pen of a well-known Washington 
 lady, who says: 
 
 “T am boarding in the same house with a young girl who is a 
 clerk in one of the departments, and as it is new to me to see women 
 thus occupied, I willingly accepted her invitation to accompany 
 her to the Bureau, where she is employed. It looks strange, 
 because I am unaccustomed to it, to see a young lady take her 
 hat and walk off to her office at nine o’clock. This young girl 
 is a Virginian, an orphan, very nice and lady-like, and very 
 poor. She has quite an air of business about her, is perfectly 
 self-reliant and independent, and likes her occupation well, 
 Her office, where she writes at a separate desk, is in a large, 
 quiet room, where only two other clerks are employed, and 
 everything is comfortable and orderly. When we reached the 
 door my companion walked in and hung up her hat composedly, 
 and then sat down to the work of the day.” 
 
 Compared with the sewing or teaching, which usually 
 seems the only resource for Southern girls who are 
 forced to support themselves, office work or professional 
 duties present many attractions. This young lady’s 
 employment, with its comfortable salary, is far prefer- 
 able to the drudgery of teaching and the small pay, 
 which is the lot of young girls who are trying to earn a 
 
 7 
 
98 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 living. There is nothing injurious in the occupation or 
 the companionship it brings to the woman who is pure 
 and high-toned in character, seeking from preference a 
 home with refined people who live plainly. She seems 
 like a daughter of the house. This little description of 
 her room gives an insight into her character and tastes: 
 
 “Her little room, which adjoins mine, is full of knick-knacks, 
 the gifts of loved ones in better days, or the work of leisure 
 hours. Here are the tiny clock and sewing machine which, with 
 her neat and simple wardrobe, represents her all of worldly 
 goods. After her office work is over she comes home cheerful 
 and bright, brings her sewing into the sitting-room where the 
 family assemble, and whence I can hear merry laughter, as the 
 little circle talk over the incidents and adventures of the day.” 
 
 The dark side to this is the yellow envelope of dis- 
 missal. What it means to the one dismissed may be 
 inferred from the fact that the notice is no longer deliv- 
 ered to the department clerk at the office, the fainting 
 and hysterics which ensue upon the receipt of the mis- — 
 sive, causing much excitement and sympathy, and seri- 
 ously interfering with the routine of business. The let- 
 ter is left at the home of the employe, and it gives no 
 reason for the dismissal, and there is never the slightest 
 hopes of re-instatement. It often causes a serious ill- 
 ness, which is as nothing to the more lasting sickness of 
 the heart, at the long prospect of enforced idleness. 
 Some have been fortunate enough, or provident enough, 
 to be able to lay up a little for this rainy day; others 
 have friends to depend on. It is hoped that in all cases 
 the dark day ends with the night, and ‘‘joy cometh in 
 the morning.” 
 
CHAPTER 1X3 
 
 Als Lady % Government x Official. 
 
 ISS Ada Sweet, U. S. Pension 
 Agent, whose portrait will be 
 a|S ae found elsewhere, is one of our 
 highest representative women 
 ‘- who have solved the problematical 
 ~*~ question of what can a woman 
 Since she was fifteen years old, 
 Miss Sweet has been self-supporting, and 
 for the past ten years has filled one of the 
 most responsible positions under our gov- 
 ernment, and the only one solely managed. 
 bya woman. She isan admirable example 
 of a business woman, since she is, at the 
 same time, a member of the highest social 
 circles, has the manner and appearance of 
 a lady who has never stepped outside of society circles, 
 and finds time to be always well and fashionably dressed. 
 Our readers will, no doubt, prefer to read Miss Sweet's 
 own kindly response to a request for some particulars of 
 her life, which we append, although it was not intended 
 for publication in this shape. Following the sketch is a 
 poem by this accomplished lady, which I have copied 
 from a magazine, without her knowledge, but which gives 
 
100 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 the domestic side of her character. To her many per- 
 sonal friends who know the peculiarly sad closing of that. 
 preeious home life, it will have an exceptional interest, 
 while all must admire its true poetic inspiration. There 
 are still precious flowers left in the home garden, which 
 owed much of its sunlight and bloom to this young 
 gardener. 
 CuicaGo, December 2, 1882. 
 Dear Mrs. Rayne: : 
 I give you, below, a sketch of my life, 
 as a basis for what you may desire to say. 
 
 Iam the daughter of General B. J. Sweet, and was born at: 
 Stockbridge, Wisconsin, Feb. 23d, 1852. My childhood was 
 passed in Wisconsin until 1863, when, my father being in com- 
 mand of the U. 8. Post at Camp Douglas, Chicago, the family 
 moved to Chicago, remaining there until the close of the war, 
 and then taking up a permanent residence near that city. 
 
 My father lost the use of his right arm by a wound received 
 at the battle of Perryville, Ky. I commenced to assist him in 
 his office work—he was a lawyer—when I was fifteen years of 
 age. 
 
 In 1868 father was appointed U. 8. Agent for paying pensions 
 at Chicago, and I entered the office. Father was anxious to 
 have me learn the business thoroughly in all its branches, and I 
 commenced as a copyist, gradually rising as I learned the dif- 
 ferent duties and occupations incident to the disbursing of 
 money. After two years I took entire charge, under my 
 father’s eye, of course, and when he left to take the place of 
 Supervisor of Internal Revenue, in April, 1871, I remained with 
 his successor, as chief clerk, until January Ist, 1872, when I 
 joined father at Washington, where he had just taken the place 
 of Deputy Commissioner of Internal Revenue. I acted as hig 
 
A LADY GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 101 
 
 secretary until his death, which took place when he was but 
 forty-two years of age, January Ist, 1874. 
 
 I was the eldest of four children, and the effect of the panic, 
 and the general depreciation of property upon father’s estate, 
 soon made it apparent that to me, mother and the children must 
 look for support and care. 
 
 In Washington we had many most kind and influential friends, 
 among them President Grant, and he, knowing that I had proved 
 myself fully competent to perform the duties of Pension Agent, 
 during the incumbency of my father and his successor, promptly 
 acted upon the proposition that I should be appointed U. 8. 
 Agent for paying pensions at Chicago. The nomination was 
 made March 19, 1874, and confirmed by the Senate, without 
 reference to a committee. 
 
 Pensions were paid from the Chicago office, at that time, only 
 to persons residing in a district known as Northern Illinois, the 
 State being divided into four districts, with one disbursing office 
 in each. In May, 1877, all these offices were consolidated at 
 Chicago, and July 1st I commenced paying pensions for the 
 whole State. 
 
 In March, 1878, my four years commission expired, and Presi- 
 dent Hayes re-appointed me. 
 
 Again in March, 1882, my commission was renewed by Presi- 
 dent Arthur. 
 
 Twenty-four thousand pensioners receive their pension quar: 
 terly from the Chicago Agency, the names on its rolls still being 
 on the increase. The annual disbursements at present are about 
 five million dollars. During the past eight years I have dis- 
 ‘bursed twenty-five million dollars. 
 
 This is the first case in which a woman has been appointed as 
 disbursing officer for the United States. 
 
 I have managed the office on a strictly business basis, in no 
 ase appointing clerks for political reasons, or because they were 
 
102 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 recommended by influential politicians. I have studied the 
 methods of our best business men, and modeled my office on 
 the plan of the best business houses of Chicago, more than after 
 the idea of an ordinary government office. Many of the best. 
 places are held by women clerks, and never yet has one failed to 
 meet all the duties entrusted to her, to my entire satisfaction. 
 One of the most pleasant features of my business career, to me, 
 is the help and training I have been enabled to extend to women 
 who are honest and industrious bread winners for themselves 
 and others dependent upon them. 
 Very truly yours, 
 ADA OC. SWEET. 
 THE GARDEN. 
 
 I lean against the shaking fence, 
 And look upon the dwelling whence 
 Have gone the hearts that made it home. 
 No well-beloved face looks out; 
 The vines no longer climb about 
 The doors, and blossom into foam. 
 
 Around the house there is no sign 
 Of aught that made it home of mine, 
 Well-known, familiar, yet ’tis strange. 
 But in the garden I can see 
 The trace of loving care—to me 
 The flowers smile, ‘‘ We do not change.” 
 
 Three summers now the sun and rain 
 Above those patient hands have lain 
 That worked and planted flowers here. 
 And yet the red petunias stand, 
 Unchecked by weeds on every hand, 
 And tall blue larkspur shows no fear 
 
 One tiger lily rears her stalk 
 Close to the ruined gravel walk, 
 And nods across the grass to me. 
 
MISS ADA SWEET. 
 
A LADY GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL. 103 
 
 White feverfew shines brave and fair, 
 Lifting its face to sun and air, 
 And mignonette grows rank and free. 
 
 Yet Mother, Mother, all of those 
 
 You loved the best, your favorite rose— 
 Your pets and darlings are no more. 
 
 They could not live but by your side; 
 
 They flourished in your simple pride; 
 For you their buds and blossoms bore! 
 
 But in a garden that you know, 
 Even-yet, some flowers you planted grow, 
 And those you cherished, loved the best. 
 They do not fade with passing years; 
 No winter blights, no summer sears 
 The leaves your tears and prayers have blessed! 
 September, 1882. Ada (0. Sweet. 
 
—s@ HAPTER X.e 
 Wemen of « Roferprisé. 
 
 ** Art thou poor, yet has thou golden slumbers, 
 O sweet content? 
 Work apace, apace, apace, apace, 
 Honest labor bears a lovely face.” 
 
 PLEASANT story comes from over 
 the seas of how one Madame Char- 
 lotte Erasmi, a German widow with 
 : six children, earned a competency 
 aX oF. for herself and built up a great 
 
 ~ &)\Kbusiness house in the quaint town of 
 . Lubeck, some ten or twelve years ago. She 
 started a tiny shop for the sale of canned 
 fruits and preserved meats. She canned the 
 fruits, meats and vegetables herself, and they 
 were all of superior quality, and presently — 
 came into good demand. Madame Erasmi 
 was a woman of energy and intelligence, with 
 business tact enough to see upon which side her bread 
 was buttered. Step by step she enlarged her factory 
 and her sales, shrewdly and carefully, until the tiny 
 closet, which at first held all her earthly possessions, 
 
 grew to fifty times its original size. She educated her 
 104 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 105 
 
 children, meanwhile, in the best schools in Europe, and 
 brought them up to be acredit to themselves and society. 
 Her business now included the preparation of ship’s pro- 
 visions, potted meats, and fish of all kinds, canned aspar- 
 agus and other vegetables, canned fruits, jellies, fruit 
 syrups, extract of meat, and nearly a dozen different 
 canned soups. She has a branch house in London, a 
 large trade in New York, and sends her goods all over 
 the world. Her business card reads as follows: 
 
 CHARLOTTE ERASMI, 
 COURT PURVEYOR TO HIS MAJESTY 
 EMPEROR WILLIAM I. 
 FACTORY FOR CANNED PROVISIONS. 
 
 Kaiser Wilhelm himself wrote her a letter of commen- 
 dation, and she has received prize medals and certificates 
 from Lubeck, Hamburgh, Copenhagen, Rheims, Berlin, 
 and from the World’s Exposition at Vienna. Her eldest 
 ‘son, now of age, has taken his place as partner, and two 
 other sons are to be admitted to the firm as soon as they 
 are old enough and wise enough. Madame Erasmi, how- 
 ever, although now wealthy herself, remains at the head 
 of the house. 
 
 What can a woman do? So much has one woman 
 done, at any rate. 
 
 A PIONEER. 
 
 The first respectable woman who dared to set foot in 
 the streets of Leadville was Mrs. Sarah Ray, who took 
 in washing and made a fortune of $1,000,000. She dug 
 in the mines, scoured the plains as a scout, and last, but 
 
106 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 not least, took in washing from the Leadville miners, 
 and to-day has a snug little fortune that gives ker an 
 income of $30,000 a year. She is now fifty years old, 
 weighing some one hundred and fifty pounds, and is 
 rugged and well. She has a daughter, a handsome and 
 lady-like girl of eighteen, whom she is educating at an 
 Eastern school. 
 
 HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE. 
 
 Mrs. Margaret Haighey, of New Orleans, made a busi- 
 ness of cheap restaurants, where a man could get a cup 
 of coffee and a roll for five cents, founded and supported 
 three orphan asylums, and did other good work with the 
 means she accumulated. When she died two governors, 
 the mayor of the city, and the leading editors were her 
 pall-bearers, and the archbishop of the diocese con- 
 ducted the funeral services, and when the procession 
 passed the Stock Exchange the members stood with 
 uncovered heads, and all classes united to do honor to a 
 noble woman. Mrs. Haighey never wore a silk gown or 
 a pair of kid gloves in her life. She lived in the utmost 
 simplicity, and did good with her money. 
 
 A SUCCESSFUL BUSINESS. . 
 
 Mrs. E. 8. Chapman, whose present address is 101 
 West Twenty-Sixth street, New York City, has created 
 a new and special industry for women, on a large scale, 
 but with a very small beginning. Mrs. Chapman’s first 
 venture in the line of earning a livelihood was that of 
 making large collars for children, out of rick-rack, which 
 is a lace made of rows of white serpentine or feather-edge 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 107 
 
 braid, crocheted together and shaped into collars, and 
 also in lace stitches and crochet stitches, executed with 
 crochet needles and knitting cotton. 
 
 The demand became so great that her own hands were 
 unable to supply it, and she began to employ women 
 and give instruction in the art, which was simple and 
 easily learned. This was five years ago. Now Mrs. 
 Chapman has eight hundred women on her books, living 
 in different parts of the State, and in New Jersey and 
 Long Island. They are mostly married women, and do 
 the work at their homes, and as a help toward a little 
 pin money, some of the ladies go in their own carriages 
 to get the work, doing it as a pastime for leisure hours. 
 It is not, of course, very remunerative, but is easily 
 taken up at odd times. The pecuniary result of ten 
 hours’ steady labor is about one dollar. The articles 
 include lace covers for the toilet, collars, cuffs, dresses, 
 caps, shams, curtains, coverlets, and other things indefi- 
 nitely. Seventy-five thousand collars were supplied in 
 one year to a single wholesale house that takes all of 
 Mrs. Chapman’s work. 
 
 WOMEN AS DENTISTS. 
 
 There are a number of ladies who have learned the 
 profession of dentistry, and a few who are engaged in a 
 successful practice, at the head of which number may be 
 reckoned Mrs. Elizabeth Morey, of New York City, who 
 acquired a knowledge of it from her husband. Mrs. 
 Morey has practiced in connection with him for some 
 sixteen years, and is the inventor of the skeleton tooth, 
 which she devised for a lady patient who had what is 
 
108 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 called a pin tooth—a tooth much smaller in size than the ~ 
 
 others, and detracting from their uniformity of appear- 
 ance. Mrs. Morey left the tooth without pulling, as it 
 was sound, and originated a hollow artificial one, which 
 she fitted over this tooth, making it uniform with the 
 others, on the same principle that crown teeth are now 
 inserted. She believes that the first principle of den- 
 tistry is to save, and not destroy, teeth, and thus worked 
 out her idea. Mrs. Morey is master of the three distinct 
 branches of dentistry—the surgical, operative, and 
 mechanical. When asked if she thought women fitted 
 for the profession she replied: 
 
 “In my opinion they are better fitted than men to make good 
 
 -dentists. The latter use too much force, and often crush a tooth 
 -or injure the jaw, in taking one out. When I am obliged to 
 
 pull a tooth I take it out whole. Men are, perhaps, better 
 
 adapted for the inventive and mechanical parts than women. It 
 is very injurious to delicate eyes to work with a blow-pipe 
 before them, for fine gold requires a high degree of heat. 
 
 f Dentistry is an art that demands not only constant practice 
 ‘but constant study, for things are daily occurring that require 
 ‘some new invention. Out of five hundred cavities not more 
 than two will be alike. Therefore, women who want to become 
 -dentists should possess inventive faculty. 
 
 ‘ There is a wide field in dentistry for women, and I should 
 like to see some philanthropist found a school in which women 
 could study by themselves, though I can not see why they 
 should not study in classes with the other sex, just as lady stu- 
 dents of medicine and other sciences do, for dentistry is a 
 ‘science, and one as old as the pyramids.” 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 109” 
 
 In answer to a question as to what particular class her 
 practice was confined, Mrs. Morey further said: 
 
 “T have a large practice among ladies, but my husband has. 
 still larger, for the reason that many women object to being’ 
 treated by one of their own sex, saying that they have no confi- 
 dence in women; but I think their prejudices would be easily 
 overcome, as it has been in the case of female physicians, if 
 ladies knew that practitioners of their own sex had graduated at. 
 a regular dental college. My husband prefers ladies as patients, 
 while I prefer gentlemen. I find the former nervous, fright- 
 ened and distrustful of my ability, while gentlemen seat them- 
 selves in the operating chair with an appearance of the greatest. 
 confidence, undergo the operation without a groan or a quiver,. 
 and when it is over they get up, pay their money without a mur-- 
 mur, and go away contented and pleased.” 
 
 The work which entitles a woman to be called a den- 
 tist is that of filling teeth with gold. The merest tyra. 
 can fill them with amalgam. Every dentist’s office has a 
 lady attendant, whose duty it is to hand water for rins- 
 ing the mouth, hold napkins, replace instruments, and 
 steady a nervous lady’s head or soothe a frightened child 
 in the operating chair. These can not be even called 
 assistant operators, as in order to be such they would 
 have to assist the principal in filling teeth and in various: 
 other operations of the profession. There are probably 
 not more than a dozen practicing lady dentists in the 
 Union at the present time. There is no reason why 
 women should not choose such a profession, and it. 
 would be especially valuable in the department of chil- 
 dren’s teeth, a branch of the business that is much neg- 
 
110 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 lected. The science is by no means as difficult to learn 
 as that of medicine. 
 An interesting letter writer adds this: 
 
 “There are now two skillful lady dentists in Chicago, Mrs. 
 Mann, formerly located in St. Louis, where she was very popu- 
 lar and successful, and Mrs. Lawrence, who has a fine reputation 
 and a large practice. Both are on State street, near Madison. 
 Those to whom the idea of a lady dentist is new, often express 
 surprise and doubts of its being a suitable feminine profession. 
 To such, we can say that these ladies and others have proved 
 their fitness by their work and their right to the tools, by show- 
 ing how well they can use them. Several hours spent in the 
 dental chair of a lady operator afford a fine opportunity for 
 reflection and observation on this new departure in woman’s 
 work. There were sympathetic, kindly words and looks, but, 
 none the less, vigorous blows on the wicked little wooden wedge 
 that sets one’s nerves all quivering. 
 
 “¢Don’t be afraid,’ said Mrs. L.; ‘my hand is perfectly 
 steady. I will not break the tooth.’ 
 
 “Rubber choked my utterance, but faith never failed, and 
 she worked on, filling the frail shell, building it up to its original 
 proportions, and finishing it off so carefully, that if I could spare 
 it, I would like to send it to the next exposition as a specimen 
 of dental skill. Prejudice discarded, the nice, delicate, patient, 
 careful work required in modern dentistry seems especially 
 adapted to the deft fingers of women, and one advantage that 
 occurs to me as likely to be gained by the increase of women in 
 the profession, is that children’s teeth will be better cared for, 
 thus preventing much suffering, and promoting health and 
 beauty.” | 
 
 THE FIRST LADY DENTIST. 
 
 ie 
 
 The twenty-seventh annual commencement of the 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. Le i 
 
 | Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery was held at 
 the Academy of Music, Philadelphia. The report is as 
 follows: 
 
 “Of the fifty-nine graduates, five were ladies, all of whom 
 ranked among the ten highest students of the class. There are 
 five ladies already in the senior class for next year, besides 
 others, applicants for admission. It is considered that the pres- 
 ence of these ladies has been of great advantage to the character 
 of the class, as the uncouth element formerly obtaining in medi- 
 cal schools has been entirely subdued by their presence. It is to 
 be noticed that three of the graduating ladies are German. 
 Even a larger number of this nationality, next year, will be rep- 
 resented in this dental school. 
 
 “The first lady dentist ever graduated in this country was 
 sent out from a Cincinnati dental college, and during the war 
 this lady returned the largest income of any dentist west of the 
 Mississippi. In 1867, two ladies were graduated at the Pennsyl- 
 vania College of Dental Surgery, both of whom returned to Ger- 
 many for practice. Following these was Miss Ramborger, of 
 this city, who is a most successful practitioner. After her 
 graduation, the college shut its doors upon women students for 
 eight or nine years. Since then it has again received them, and 
 fourteen have been graduated in the five intervening years.” 
 
 Here is a new business for women, and one which is in 
 constant demand. The results should encourage women 
 who need occupation and income, and who have mechan- 
 ical tastes, to acquire a knowledge of dentistry. 
 
 COMMERCIAL TRAVELERS. 
 
 Perhaps this business, to a modest, retiring woman, is 
 the hardest in which she can be called to engage, but if 
 .she has dear ones dependent on her, she will not hesitate 
 
112 | WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 at a good offer. The best houses in business send out: 
 lady agents to canvass the different cities and appoint. 
 local agents to sell goods. It may be tea. or coffee, 
 spices, gloves, corsets, millinery, yeast powder, boots: 
 and shoes, any line of dry goods, or a patent boiler; 
 but the lady commercial traveler will find that she can 
 not only travel and sell goods successfully, but retain 
 the respect of all with whom she comes in contact, if she: 
 conducts herself as a lady and attends strictly to the 
 business interests of the house she represents. At least. 
 a dozen of large New York houses have sent out respect-- 
 able, well-tried female clerks to sell sample goods and. 
 work up a new line of trade. The success of the ladies. 
 has been something phenomenal. They hardly, in a. 
 single instance, failed to secure large orders, and they 
 did not, ina single case, meet with any discourteous- 
 treatment or rebuffs, either from the merchants from 
 whom they solicited orders, or their brothers of the 
 road. In the interests of sewing machines, pianos, 
 crockery-ware, ready-made underwear, and other lines, 
 women make the best solicitors. 
 
 TYPE-SETTING. 
 
 This rather fascinating occupation for women must be: 
 learned by a regular apprenticeship in a printing office, 
 and will command pay just as soon as the compositor 
 can set from copy with no more than the ordinary 
 mistakes of type. The typo begins on reprint. the 
 first thing is to learn the boxes in which the type: 
 is kept, and the names of the different fonts of type: 
 will be acquired as the apprentice advances. Ladies, 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 113 
 
 are found as type-setters, and occasionally as fore- 
 women, in the composing rooms, but there is some diffi- 
 culty in accustoming the men employed to this innova- 
 tion, and Printers’ Unions will not, as a general thing, 
 allow their members to work in the offices controlled by 
 them; however, in some of the larger cities there are ladies 
 who belong to the Union. Womenare not adapted to the 
 work on a daily paper, which must all be done at night; 
 but in the offices of weekly papers they do good service, 
 and they have been employed on the dailies, the Chicago 
 Times being one of the papers which for some time 
 employed lady compositors. They can earn, on an aver- 
 age, ten dollars a week, or, in technical language, can set 
 eight thousand ems per day. Many women have set up the 
 articles in their own papers, read the proof, made up the 
 forms, and worked the hand-press on which they were 
 printed. Itisnot at all uncommon to find in the office of a. 
 local country paper that all the work is done by the wife of 
 the editor and publisher, with a small boy for assistant,, 
 while the husband is off electioneering, collecting bills, 
 and doing outside business. It is a profession that is. 
 easily acquired, and no more injurious than any other 
 species of close confining work. 
 
 And right here I would like to call the attention of 
 women to the fact that they do not unbend from the: 
 burden of their duties as mendo. A man locks up his. 
 printing-house or counting-house and goes home to rest; 
 and read the papers or enjoy social recreation in any’ 
 form that presents itself. A woman goes home toa 
 encumber herself with petty cares—sew a dress waist 
 together, mend old garments, baste ruffles into a cos- 
 
114 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 tume for the morrow, or take up some new form of work 
 and worry. She is not satisfied with doing a man’s work 
 all day, but she will employ herself with a woman’s 
 work all the evening, vainly imagining that she finds 
 rest in a change of labor. It is all a mistake. She 
 wants a brisk walk in the open air—a pleasant chat 
 with lively company—something that will divert her 
 mind from work and weariness, as a ride or a stroll 
 does her stronger brother; but she can not sew, knit, or 
 embroider, or do other work until a late hour every 
 night, when she has worked nine hours of the day; she 
 will break down in health, and the fault will be laid 
 ignorantly at the door of her trade or profession. 
 
 PROOF READING. 
 
 There are very few good proof-readers even among 
 men, and those who are experts command a good salary. 
 Proof-reading is taught in some schools as a branch of 
 education, but is seldom imparted with any accuracy, 
 the average scholar preferring some other study. A 
 good proof-reader needs to be well educated, a person of 
 careful observation and fine intelligence, with a quick 
 eye for disarranged letters and wrong type, as well as a 
 perceptive faculty that will enable him or her to substi- 
 tute the proper word in the place of one that is obscure 
 or unintelligible. The alphabet of proof-reading must 
 be learned carefully, each office differing slightly in its 
 method of using the signs, and the proof-reader must be 
 an accurate speller. 
 
~ eee 
 he at al tie 
 
 “ie 
 
 - 
 
 * < 
 i 
 
 WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 115 
 
 WOMEN AS INVENTORS. 
 
 It is said that women are not successful in inventing. 
 Perhaps history records their failures rather than their 
 successes. The spherical shape of the bullet is the result 
 of awoman’s experimenting. Two young ladies, cousins, 
 one living in Cincinnati, the other in Louisville, put their 
 heads together and invented an ironing pan, on which 
 they have taken out a patent, and from which they 
 expect to realize a fortune. From the time of Adam and 
 Eve women have used an old saucer turned bottom side 
 up, an old horseshoe, an oyster can, and a hundred and 
 one other contrivances to place the hot iron upon while 
 turning a garment or when wishing to lay down the 
 iron fora moment. But, as many a housewife knows 
 to her sorrow, ironing-boards can not be disturbed with- 
 out upsetting the iron, thereby endangering the toes of 
 the ironer. These young ladies hit upon the idea of 
 making an ironing pan, to be sunk into the board, and 
 thus kept stationary, being of such a depth as to hold 
 the iron in safety while the ironer twists the board in 
 whatever direction desired. ‘They received an offer of 
 five thousand dollars for their invention as soon as it was 
 perfected and the patent obtained, but they refused to 
 sell, and concluded an arrangement which gives them a 
 liberal profit. 
 
 Mrs. Loretta Brownlow, of Illinois, patented a simple 
 and convenient invention for crushing and straining fruit 
 required in making jellies. 
 
 Catharine Littlefield Greene, widow of Gen. Greene of 
 revolutionary memory, invented the cotton gin. She 
 jived in Georgia, and saw that it took a negro a full day 
 
116 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 to separate the seed from a pound of cotton. HKli Whit- 
 ney, of Connecticut, was then boarding with Mrs. Greene, 
 and his ingenuity was called into play for the construc- 
 tion of a machine to do the work. ‘‘The wooden teeth 
 at first tried not doing their work well, Mr. Whitney 
 wished to abandon the machine altogether; but Mrs. 
 Greene, whose faith in ultimate success never wavered, 
 would not consent; she suggested the substitution of 
 wire. Within ten days from the first conception of Mrs. 
 Greene’s idea, a small model was completed, so perfect: 
 in its construction, that all succeeding gins have been 
 based upon it.’ The invention enabled a single laborer 
 to clean 300 pounds of cotton in a day, instead of a single 
 pound, and soon made cotton the leading staple of the 
 South. 
 
 Miss Louise McLaughlin, of Cincinnati, invented a: 
 method of under-glaze painting upon pottery, and desir- 
 ing that all artists should share in its benefits, explained 
 her process to every one who asked her, and even wrote: 
 a book giving this information. \ 
 
 The Burden horseshoe machine, turning out a com- 
 plete shoe every three seconds, was a woman’s inven- 
 tion, and, at a renewal of the patent in 1871, it was. 
 claimed that $32,000,000 had been saved to the public: 
 during the fourteen years of its use. 
 
 We should hardly expect to find a woman’s work upon 
 a reaping and mowing machine, but Mrs. Ann Harned 
 Manning, of Plainfield, New Jersey, in 1817-18 perfected. 
 a system for the combined action of teeth and cutters, 
 which was patented by her husband, William Henry 
 Manning. She also made other improvements, of the: 
 
 f/ 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 117 
 
 benefit of which, not having taken out a patent for the 
 same, she was robbed after her husband’s death by a 
 neighbor, who procured a patent in his own name. 
 Mrs. Manning also invented a clover cleaner which 
 proved very profitable to her husband, who held the 
 patent. The name of Mrs. Elizabeth Smith, also of New 
 Jersey, appears as patentee of a device whereby knives 
 can be adjusted upon a reaper or mower while the 
 machine is in motion. 
 
 Among other inventions by women is that of a baby 
 carriage, the patent for which a San Francisco lady sold 
 for $14,000; the paper pail, invented by a Chicago lady; 
 the gimlet-pointed screw, which was the idea of a little 
 girl; an improved spinning machine and loom; a furnace 
 for smelting ore; an improved wood-sawing machine; a 
 space-saving clothes mangle; a chain elevator; a screw- 
 erank for steamships; a fire escape; a device for correct 
 pen holding, for use in schools; a wool feeder and 
 weigher; a self-fastening button; a process for burning 
 petroleum to generate steam; a spark-arrester for loco- 
 motives; a danger-signal for street crossings on railways; 
 a plan for heating cars; a rapid change box, convenient 
 for use at railway stations and ferries; syllable type, 
 with the necessary apparatus for their use; machine 
 for trimming pamphlets; writing machine; signal-rocket, 
 used in the navy; deep-sea telescope, invented by Mrs. 
 Mather and improved by her daughter, for bringing the 
 bottoms of ships into view without raising them into dry- 
 dock, and for inspecting wrecks, removing obstructions 
 to navigation and making examinations for torpedoes; 
 
118 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 improvements in sewing machines, and many other 
 devices which are in common use. 
 
 The machine for making satchel-bottom paper bags, 
 which has attracted much attention for its complicated 
 mechanism and extraordinary ingenuity, is the inven- 
 tion of Miss Maggie Knight, who has since invented a 
 machine for folding bags, and herself superintended the 
 erection of the machinery at Amherst, Mass. A Hobo- 
 ken lady, having had her dress spattered with mud by a 
 clumsy street sweeping machine, invented the Eureka 
 street sweeper. 
 
 The Metropolitan Elevated Railroad Co., of New York 
 City, paid Mrs. Mary Walton ten thousand dollars for 
 an invention which deadened the noise on their lines, 
 and a royalty forever. She was fifty years old when she 
 made the discovery of her inventive faculties. She is 
 a widow, and has been accustomed to think and act for 
 herself. She says: 
 
 “My father had no sons, but believed in educating his daugh- 
 ters. He spared no pains or expense, and made great sacrifices 
 to this end. Wehad the only piano in the whole neighborhood, 
 for miles about us. At that time we lived not far from Phila- 
 delphia. My father’s brother once said to him: ‘Why do you 
 waste so much money on your girls.’ To which my father 
 replied: ‘My boys all turned out to be girls, and I am going 
 to give them so good an education that some time they may 
 turn out to be as good as boys.’ This is not my first invention. 
 Twenty-eight years ago I made what has proved to be a valu- 
 able invention. My husband was delighted with it, and brought 
 one of his friends into the matter to consult with him. This 
 intimate and trusted friend appropriated the idea and reaped 
 
WOMEN OF ENTERPRISE. 119 
 
 the benefit. This time I determined there should be no man in 
 it. I heard that Edison was constantly going up and down the 
 elevated railroad, listening to the noise, trying to find out the 
 cause and the remedy. He was called by the men employed on 
 the road ‘The Wizard,’ as he always carried a stick with him. 
 He was listening on a salary paid by the railroad, but had not 
 found the something that would stop the noise. I had been 
 thinking the matter over and over, and had about made up my 
 mind what caused the noise. Once sure of that, I thought I 
 knew what would stop it. So one evening of that summer L 
 took my daughter, and for the first time made a trip on the ele- 
 vated railroad. We were the only ladies on the train, For my 
 purpose I wished to stand on the rear platform. That was 
 against the rules. I said, ‘Then, hundreds of gentlemen break 
 the rules, as more stand outside on summer evenings than ride 
 inside.’ It shows how much more tender the company are of 
 women’s lives than of men’s, and of how much more value they 
 consider women, that they guard them so carefully However, 
 in spite of obstacles, I made up my mind that night as to what 
 caused the noise. I kept my own counsel, not one of my family 
 knowing what I was thinking about. I bought two pieces of 
 railroad iron, placed them on pieces of wood, raised them upon 
 two barrels in my cellar, and set about experimenting. WhenI 
 had perfected my plan I bought two shingles and made my 
 model, supposing this to be necessary before going further; but, 
 finding this was not necessary, I destroyed it. The railroad 
 company has asked me, as a favor, to make another model pre- 
 cisely like the first one, as they wish to place it in their office as 
 a curiosity, and I have promised to doso. I then procured my 
 patent, against the persistent and earnest advice of many men, 
 from time to time. I have been discouraged in all possible 
 ways, but I have pushed through, and the railroad company has 
 paid me handsomely.” 
 
“QHAPTER Xle 
 
 Coloring Photographs. 
 
 WRITER in a prominent weekly 
 journal says that for the last twenty 
 years there has been, in this country 
 at least, a steady demand for the 
 application of color to photo- 
 a So graphs, and to-day thousands of 
 persons, chiefly young women, are 
 devoting themselves to supplying the demand, 
 with no prospect that the market will become 
 #3 dull. Thirty or more of these workers are in 
 the school of the Cooper Institute, New York 
 City, and the visitor who has had the privi- 
 lege of seeing them, will remember how pic- 
 turesque they looked in the midst of their gay 
 and noe pigments, cardboards, and finished or partly 
 finished photographs—one coloring a portrait, another a 
 landscape, a third an interior, a fourth a genre—some of 
 the works directly from life or nature; others from oil 
 painting. They use water-colors exclusively, and are 
 governed by most of the laws of the water-colorists’ art. 
 The technique of the business is very simple, and in two 
 steps; first, the application of a wash or color; secondly, 
 the knowledge of stippling. About one-fifth of the 
 
COLORING PHOTOGRAPHS. 121 
 
 members are earning ten or twelve dollars a week by 
 executing orders; that is to say, they are more than pay- 
 ing their necessary expenses while acquiring an honor- 
 able and remunerative profession. After a two years’ 
 course of study many of these diligent young women 
 will be able to earn more than that. Sometimes during 
 their first year they succeed in earning as much. In 
 1865, just after the war for the Union, one of these reso- 
 lute and clever sisters arrived in New York City from 
 the South; almost penniless, with a father, mother, two 
 grown up brothers and a grown up sister on her hands. 
 Having received previously some little training in the art 
 of photo-coloring before the war had wiped out the for- 
 tune of her parents, she determined to help herself and 
 the rest of the family, and in a short time obtained work 
 enough to provide for the support of the entire group. 
 Each art has its special difficulties, and those of the 
 art of photo-coloring usually lie first in ignorance of 
 drawing, which incapacitates the artist from producing 
 form, and leaves her work either painfully flat or dis- 
 torted, the cheeks in her portraits, the shoulders, arms, 
 and busts as if silhouetted, or else misshapen; secondly, 
 in ignorance of coloring, which makes her tints either 
 dry or hard, and which prevents her from successfully 
 covering up the troublesome and exacting little black 
 places in the neighborhood of the lips and eyes of the 
 photographic portrait; thirdly, in ignorance of 
 
 HOW TO SELL HER WORK. 
 
 Unlike some of her sisters who pursue ‘‘ high art,’’ the 
 photo-colorist seems disinclined to convert her studio 
 
122 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 into a mere museum for the exhibition of unsalable 
 wares. The first two of these difficulties are overcome in. 
 most instances by perseverance and competent instruc- 
 tion. Having learned the technique of her profession, a 
 principal dogma of which is not to retouch a spot which 
 has once been touched on the photographs, the photo- 
 colorist is ready to execute orders for colored 
 photographs. 
 
 HOW SHALL SHE OBTAIN ORDERS. 
 
 The answer to this question depends upon her necessi- 
 ties. Seventeen years ago an Englishman who under- 
 stood the art of photo-coloring, sailed from London with 
 five pounds in his pocket. Arriving in this country a 
 stranger, without friends, he proceeded at once in search 
 of employment. With a specimen of his work in his. 
 hand, he called upon almost every photographer in 
 Broadway, and offered successively his services. No- 
 body desired them. But when the lst was all but 
 exhausted, he found the very place he was seeking: 
 ‘“You are the man I want,” said the photographer, 
 ‘‘my colorist is about to leave me, and I wish to fill his 
 place.” Ever since that time the artist has had much 
 to do. Heis now one of the leaders of his profession. 
 If a young woman should ask him how she could get 
 orders for coloring photographs, his reply would be: 
 The best way that I know of is to visit the shops 
 of the photographer and make known your wants. 
 If the proprietor can not give regular work at so much a 
 week—say ten or twelve dollars—he may supply you 
 with special work. For such work the pay is not high, 
 
COLORING PHOTOGRAPHS. 123 
 
 but it is better than none at all. You will get probably 
 fifty cents for coloring a full length carte de visite, and 
 one dollar for coloring an imperial. If you have had a 
 moderate amount of experience, you will be likely to 
 color half a dozen carte de visites or three imperials in a 
 day of seven or eight hours, thus earning three dollars a 
 day. If your visit brings you no orders of any kind, 
 but rough words or indifference instead, keep a brave 
 heart, and try another gallery. If really in need of 
 money persevere in your round from shop to shop, and 
 courageously face the inconveniences. You at least will 
 make yourself and your wares known, and may some 
 time receive orders from a proprietor who, being crowded. 
 with business, is only too glad to secure your prompt and 
 capable services. 
 
 If, on the other hand, your necessities are not imme- 
 diate, you can color photographs at home and show them 
 or lend them, or give them to your friends, taking care, 
 of course, that the work shall be the best you can pro- 
 duce. You can also explain to them, while they are 
 examining these specimens of your skill, the practical 
 side of the photo-colorists’ art, telling them how weak 
 even the best plain photograph is; how it represents the 
 sitter in an attitude or expression of constraint greater 
 in some instances than in others, but always sufficient to 
 be disagreeable; how it falsifies color, making a yellow 
 ribbon look black and a blue dress white, and playing 
 the mischief with every texture into which yellow or 
 blue enters. You can add something, if you choose, 
 about the ceaseless charm of color. Finally, you can 
 remind your listener that the purpose of coloring a pho- 
 
124 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 tographic portrait is to produce more nearly than does 
 the plain photograph the similitude of nature. 
 
 Of course it is easy enough for a practitioner of ‘‘ high 
 art’? to lift up his eyes, hands, and voice in horror at 
 the thought of coloring a photograph, and excommuni- 
 cate the abomination with anathemas, accompanied by 
 the explanation that it deserves such treatment because 
 it is not ‘‘art.’”’ But without entering into a discussion 
 with this person, let us ask whether or not it is true that 
 high artists themselves also sometimes make a photo- 
 graph the basis of their work. Do they, or do they not, 
 ever put on their canvas a tracing from a photograph, — 
 and then paint over that, producing an oil portrait of 
 the sitter whose photograph they have traced. More- 
 over, is it, or is it not true, that Meissonier himself 
 painted whole pictures in this way twenty years ago, 
 and disclosed the fact to professional photographers by 
 the very aspect of the forms produced, they knowing 
 that the short-focused camera of those days used to dis- 
 tort forms precisely as the forms in some of Meissonier’s 
 earlier paintings are distorted. 
 
 RENEWING OLD PORTRAITS. 
 
 In almost every family there are valued old portraits 
 which, by fading, cracking, or more or less falling to 
 pieces, have become well-nigh useless, save for the mem- 
 ories which they inspire. The art of portraiture has 
 advanced in these later days. and the triumphs of former 
 times, save those of the great painters, sculptors, or 
 draughtsmen, are laggards. By taking one of those 
 ancient daguerreotypes, or other types, to a solar-print 
 
COLORING PHOTOGRAPHS. 125: 
 
 shop, getting a reproduction of it, and coloring the pro- 
 duction, a work can be produced which will surely give 
 pleasure to the average spectator, and more faithfully 
 present the lineaments of the loved and lost. So trust- 
 worthy is this statement, that the success of hundreds of 
 canvassers throughout the country may be brought to 
 attest it. These men travel from town to town, and 
 from house to house, showing a pretty specimen of a 
 colored photograph, and offering to execute a similar 
 one to order for four or five dollars. They obtain a 
 great many orders and return to New York (or some 
 other large city), and set scores of girls, who understand 
 the art of coloring photographs, to fill them. You can 
 visit any of their establishments and see the young 
 artists at their work, each one painting exclusively that 
 part of a portrait in which she most excels—the hair, for 
 instance, the cheeks, the lace trimming about the neck, 
 and leaving other parts for other collaborators, her wages 
 being about ten or twelve dollars a week. 
 
 The artist who depends on wages, or a salary, usually 
 earns much less money than she who has a sufficiency of 
 private orders to execute, and every clever girl who 
 understands the art of photo-coloring can conceive of at 
 least several ways in which she may get such orders. 
 Her first look out should be to make her wares known, 
 and also to make known the purposes they serve. The 
 popular ignorance on art matters is both pervasive and 
 dense; while, on the other hand, there are comparatively 
 few persons whom a little fresh esthetic information 
 does not please. You may be sure that your hearer will 
 be attentive, if you are explaining with even moderate 
 
126 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 lucidity the art of photo-coloring. Do you not think 
 that a father would be glad if, when lamenting that. he 
 had no picture of the child who lay dead in his house, 
 he learned that from a photograph of its dead face you 
 could make a portrait vital, beautiful and faithful ? 
 
 Finally, it may be hinted that smart girls, who obtain 
 an order for work of a specially difficult and lucrative 
 sort, often seek the assistance of professional artists of 
 distinction, known as ‘‘miniature painters,’ who, in 
 return for a sum of money—three, five, ten or more dol- 
 lars—will execute in good style for their youthful cus- 
 tomers the most important part or parts of the photo- 
 coloring desired. 
 
 For many years before photo-coloring was known to 
 the public as an art, there was a sign on the door of a 
 photographer’s studio in Chicago which used to elicit 
 wonder and amusement. It said: ‘‘ Babies retouched 
 here at reasonable rates.”’ 
 
 WOMEN AS PHOTOGRAPHERS. 
 
 There are nine hundred and fifty lady photographers 
 in the United States. Therequisites for this business are 
 patience to continue steadily in one line, improving one 
 formula, a preliminary education in the science of pho- 
 tography, a knowledge of the chemicals used, and a few 
 hundred dollars, It costs from forty to seventy-five dol- 
 lars to build a good skylight. The instruments and 
 chemicals must then be purchased, and these will range 
 in price from one hundred: to one thousand dollars, the 
 latter being the cost of an outfit for a handsome gallery, 
 with furnishings, scenery, and all modern equipments. 
 
COLORING PHOTOGRAPHS. 127 
 
 ‘Once started, the expense is in the salaries paid to assist- 
 ants, and rent. The business pays at the rate of one 
 hundred to three hundred per cent. on the cost of the 
 ‘material used. Many ladies are their own operators; do 
 their printing, mounting and finishing entirely them- 
 Selves. Others employ a man who can do the work, 
 while they take care of the rooms and attend to orders. 
 Women naturally understand posing effects, colors in 
 dress, and all the peculiar phases of the children’s pic- 
 ture business better than men. The criticism of a well- 
 known photographer is that they finish up in too light 
 and sketchy a manner, are not deep and bold in shading, 
 and do not give the same care and study to the work 
 that a man does. It is a fact, however, that many 
 ‘women are engaged in the business, and make good 
 pictures, though no particular one has acquired fame 
 for specimen work. The following extracts from a let- 
 ‘ter written by Mrs. J. H. Parsons, of Ypsilanti, Mich., 
 ‘who has been for many years established there as a pho- 
 tographer, are of interest in this connection. Mrs. Par- 
 -sons writes : 
 
 “For the benefit of any sister seeking a place among the 
 limited situations for our sex, I would say that women can suc- 
 -ceed in any department of the photograph business, though I 
 should not have chosen it as a life-work had not circumstances 
 “pressed me into service. ra 
 
 “My husband and myself were both teachers when we were 
 ‘married. He was a teacher of a commercial school when the 
 war broke out and took so many of-the class of young men that 
 were beginning a business education that he dropped his pro- 
 -fessorship and took up photography. I learned printing of him, 
 
128 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and afterwards, as his health failed, I assisted in different depart- 
 ments, and when he finally died, leaving me with a family of five 
 little ones, I took his advice, and have carried on the work suc- 
 cessfully enough to support my family ever since. I hope you 
 will make it a successful medium in giving encouragement to- 
 our sex, compelled by adverse circumstances to support them- 
 selves, for all cannot be teachers, clerks, or seamstresses.” 
 
 It is acommon circumstance to find the wife or sister 
 of a male photographer employed in the office, which 
 needs, if at all successful, a working force of at least. 
 three persons—the operator, office clerk, and general. 
 manager. It often happens, however, that one enter- 
 prising individual fills all the departments, taking the: 
 order, posing the sitter, making the negative, and print- 
 ing the pictures. Babies are a good deal of trouble, but 
 they are also a source of emolument to the office. Some 
 photographers make a specialty of small children, and. 
 do very attractive work. If the parents are pleased with 
 the first picture, they are apt to have the little one takem 
 frequently. 
 
 HOW THE BABY’S PICTURE WAS TAKEN. 
 
 We must carry our beautiful baby to town 
 Some day when the weather is fair, we said; 
 
 We must dress him up in his prettiest gown, 
 And wave his hair on the top of his head. 
 
 For all his cousins, and all his aunts, 
 And both his grandmothers, proud and dear, 
 Declare it is shameful, and every way blamefull,. 
 To have no picture of him this year. 
 
 We carried our child to the town one day, 
 The skies were soft and the air was cool; 
 
COLORING PHOTOGRAPHS. 
 
 We robed him richly in fine array, 
 Ribbons and lace, and Swiss and tulle. 
 
 He looked like a prince in the artist’s chair, 
 Sitting erect, and brave and grand, @ 
 With a big red apple he scarce could grapple, 
 Held close in the palm of one dimpled hand. 
 
 ‘« He is taking it now.” We held our breath. 
 We quietly peeped from behind the screen. 
 
 *¢ What a pose,” we whispered; then, still as death 
 Waited, and baby was all serene. 
 
 Till the critical moment when, behold! 
 
 The sun was catching that lovely look, 
 Such a terrible roar, it shook the floor, 
 
 And that was the picture the swift sun took. 
 
 129 
 
“CHAPTER XILe 
 
 Women * aS % Wood % Engravers. 
 
 OMEN who engrave on wood, says 
 He \Wea a writer in Harper’s Bazar, will 
 He ? Hee tell you that this exacting occu- 
 
 Wp, pation tries them less than sew- 
 ‘ ing does; and if, after seeing them 
 bent over the magnifying glass 
 » through which they follow the movement of 
 their tools along the surface of the boxwood, you 
 ask if their eyes do not trouble them; they will 
 smile and say that the exercise strengthens the 
 optic nerve. Seven or eight hours a day they 
 will work without excessive fatigue, and then 
 some of the most sensible among them will put 
 themselves through a course of calisthenics and 
 resume business in the morning fresh as daisies. It is 
 only a popular fallacy, they say, that the practice of the 
 art of wood engraving is particularly trying to body and 
 mind. 
 
 Those women, like their brothers of the same profession, 
 belong to two classes—those to whom wood engraving is 
 an industrial art, and those to whom it is a fine art. 
 The lowest order of engraving done by the former is 
 
 transfer work, in which their duty is to make a fac- » 
 ; 130 
 
WOMEN AS WOOD ENGRAVERS. 1381 
 
 simile of an engraving. Take a picture, for example, 
 from a newspaper, soak it in an alkali solution, lay a 
 block of boxwood upon it, put the whole under a press, 
 and when it comes out there is stamped upon the block 
 a copy of the picture. All that the engraver has to do 
 is to cut out the lines one by one as they lie before her. 
 A few weeks practice is sufficient to qualify her for such 
 a task as this, and many women and men are so occu- 
 pied to-day. 
 
 But the function of the art engraver is different, and 
 the highest exercise of that function consists in repro- 
 ducing upon a block of wood the effects of a masterly 
 oil painting. Here it is not a fac-simile reproduction 
 that is possible. Every line that she cuts must be an 
 invention of her own to express the desired result. In 
 the former case the lines are ready made, traced out for 
 her in advance; in the latter case she begins with no 
 lines at all, the surface of the block containing only a 
 photograph of the oil painting, and requiring her to 
 choose the kind of line and the number of lines requi- 
 site to the proposed reproduction. Moreover, so far- 
 reaching, varied, and remorseless are the demands made 
 upon the artistic wood engraver of the present day, that 
 she finds it indispensable to become possessed of the art 
 of drawing and painting; or, at least, a fair knowledge 
 of such, if she is to do the best work and win the best 
 prices. She can not cut the necessary outlines unless ° 
 she is a draughtsman. She can not cut the necessary 
 tones or tints unless she is a painter. She must possess 
 a practical acquaintance with the whole business of lay- 
 ing on paint, if she is to give to her wood-cut the feel- 
 
182 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ing of an oil painting. The best men engravers in the 
 United States—that is to say, the best in the world— 
 have recently found this out, and are acting upon it. 
 And the same is true of the three women engravers who 
 alone deserve to rank with them. And the fact that. 
 there are but three of them shows, not that women 
 engravers are not the peer of men engravers, but that. 
 they are not so many, nor had so long an experience. 
 The profession of artistic wood engraving itself, as the’ 
 term is now understood, is scarcely more than five years 
 old; and it is scarcely three years since the foremost of 
 the wood engravers have acted up to their conviction,. 
 that a knowledge of drawing and painting is a prerequi- 
 site to the successful reproduction of an oil painting. 
 
 It is the acquisition of this preliminary knowledge, 
 very much more than the acquisition of the technique of 
 her profession, that demands of a woman who aspires to 
 become an artist engraver a long apprenticeship. 
 
 The most successful of the three women engravers who- 
 have fought their way into the front ranks of the men. 
 engravers, has taken eight years in accomplishing this: 
 feat, and she is still on the march forward. But already 
 she is offered more orders than she can execute, and 
 some of her best work has paid her at the rate of sixty 
 dollars a week. It is very beautiful work, indeed, with. 
 no trace of the so-called feminine weakness and inde- 
 cision. The execution is as steady and self-contained as: 
 was the intelligent purpose that inspired it. 
 
 TERM OF APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 But eight years is a long time you will say—disheart- 
 
WOMEN AS WOOD ENGRAVERS. 183 
 
 ening long. Let us consider the matter. Here is a boy 
 who, at sixteen, leaves school to become a doctor or a 
 lawyer. At twenty he is just out of college, three years 
 Jater he has just taken his degree, and one year later 
 still, how often do we find him in a position to earn two, 
 three, or four thousand dollars perannum? Yet he has 
 spent eight years, and we will not say how many thou- 
 sand dollars. Look now at his sister, desirous of acquir- 
 ing a not less honorable profession. It is entirely prac- 
 ticable for her to leave school in her twelfth year, begin 
 the study of wood engraving, and at twenty years of age 
 become the possessor of a profession which will hand- 
 somely remunerate her as long as she chooses to prac- 
 tice it. 
 
 In one of the classes of the Cooper Institute, New 
 York City, are two clever girls who, in the second year 
 of their training, made six hundred dollars each by exe- 
 cuting orders for publishers. Last summer, in the same 
 place, twelve pupils earned twelve hundred dollars in 
 the same way—a sum more than sufficient to meet their 
 necessary expenses, amounting, as it did, to an average 
 income of eight dollars and fifty cents a week apiece, 
 when the price of comfortable board and lodging need 
 not have been more than five dollars a week. 
 
 A teacher of a class of woman engravers is asked what 
 he thinks of engraving as a field for woman’s genius, and 
 in his answer says: ‘‘ A woman’s sense of touch is equal 
 to aman’s, her sight is equal to a man’s, her capacity for 
 adapting means to ends is equal to a man’s, and her for- 
 titude is greater. As for her physique, it is fully equal 
 
 to the demands made upon it, anda clever woman is a 
 
134 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 born artist. Her only inferiority to her masculine rivals 
 lies in her less degree of smartness in sharpening her 
 wood-cutting tools; but she can get her brothers and 
 bachelor cousins to do that for her; and when she has 
 fitted herself for the work of an artist engraver, she will 
 make more money in a week than some of her sisters 
 who practice ‘high art’ are making in a year.”’ 
 
 The teacher might have said that a woman’s sense of 
 touch is superior to a man’s. In the Elgin watch fac- 
 tories the most delicate and difficult parts of the fine 
 work is done by young women whose perception of 
 touch is so exquisitely nice that the finest hair held in 
 their sensitive finger ends seems to be of the dimensions 
 of a whip cord. 
 
 MRS. GENERAL SHERIDAN. 
 
 Before Irene Rucker, the daughter of Col. Rucker of 
 the U. 8. A., was married to General Sheridan, she was 
 accustomed to engrave blocks of wood for a wood engrav- 
 ing firm of the City of Chicago, and many a piece of 
 work was sent out from that establishment, which was 
 supposed to be the work of apprentices or workmen, 
 which was really done by the lady who is now Mrs. 
 Sheridan, who worked industriously and was paid a 
 handsome sum weekly by the engraver, who, upon hear- 
 ing of her intended marriage, exclaimed: ‘‘ There! its 
 just like a woman to go and ruin her prospects, just 
 when I really needed her work, too!’’ 
 
 A celebrated artist engraver of New York City, says 
 that he has had fifty women pupils, and they are all 
 doing splendidly. 
 
WOMEN AS WOOD ENGRAVERS. 135 
 
 MUSICAL WOOD ENGRAVING. 
 
 It is related of the best lady engravers, that they not 
 only call on painting and sculpture to assist them in 
 their career of wood engraving, but they demand the 
 help of music, and attend concerts and oratorios, at 
 which the divine strains inspire them with melodious 
 tones which they cut into the wood the next day. 
 
 WOMEN IN ART. 
 
 Moncure D. Conway writes from London that Mr. Rus- 
 kin has been praising the work of Mrs. Lakey, of Chi- 
 cago. ‘This lady has exhibited a half-dozen pictures in 
 London, which might well inspire any one who has eyes 
 with high hope for the future of American art. The 
 largest of these pictures represents the lord of a small 
 herd, a superb bull, haughty and dignified, with cows of 
 various color around him. They are wading in a placid 
 pond, with a fine landscape beyond them and a warm 
 sky over them. The same writer says there is an Ameri- 
 can lady here, Mrs. Merritt (formerly Miss Lea, of Phil- 
 adelphia), who recently painted a superb Artemis, which 
 I believe to be the ras flesh any American has eas 
 over here. 
 
 Except Anglica Kauffmann, Mary Moser was the date 
 lady who has ever been a member of the Royal Academy. 
 Her father, George Moser, was one of the original found- 
 ers, and during his life its keeper. She was greatly 
 admired by Queen Charlotte, and decorated a room at 
 Frogmore for $4,500. She was married to Hugh Lloyd, 
 lived in Fitzroy Square, and was buried at Kensington. 
 She was celebrated as a flower and historical painter. 
 
~@ HAPTER XIIL3+ 
 Tbe x [Profession % of# Telegraphy. 
 
 - 
 HOW SKILLED LABOR REMUNERATES WOMEN. 
 
 = eH i T the headquarters of the Western 
 1 Union Telegraph Company, on the 
 northwest corner of Dey street and 
 Broadway, New York City, one 
 Ey | Sens) AN hundred and twenty young women 
 (hua ati aie are employed as operators, and in 
 i the branch offices of the company 
 
 "6 throughout the country hundreds of others 
 
 3) 
 SN WLOs acs 
 
 Hl ay find an opportunity to earn a living. Many 
 
 Y 
 
 es private offices, too, are served in similar 
 ter fashion. 
 
 a The supply of such operators at present is 
 - &S@yP much inexcess of the demand. Of the fifty 
 pupils who last year graduated from the 
 Cooper Union Free School of Telegraphy for Women, 
 only about twelve have thus far obtained situations. 
 The central office of the Western Union Telegraph Com- 
 pany receives constantly more applications for positions 
 than it can fill, and is itself educating young women for 
 such work, although conducting no regular school. The 
 
 girls who act as messengers in the vast operating: room 
 186 
 
 = Ory poh yer ty 
 iy Saas 
 LS 
 
THE PROFESSION OF TELEGRAPHY. 137 
 
 on one of the upper floors are continually picking up pro- 
 fessional information, and it is a favorite practice for any 
 one of them to do a companion’s work as well as her own 
 4 part of the day, thus leaving her comrade free to prac- 
 tice herself in the use of the telegraphic instruments. 
 ‘These messengers receive from fifteen to twenty-five dol- 
 lars a month, and when they have become skilled oper- 
 ators, from thirty to sixty-five dollars a month, the aver- 
 age salary of the skilled feminine operator being forty 
 dollars monthly. The highest salary of the male opera- 
 tors is one hundred and ten dollars a month, and their 
 average salary sixty dollars. 
 
 Why this difference? Chiefly because a man’s endur- 
 ance is greater than a woman’s, and because the men are 
 liable to be called upon by night as well as by day. The 
 best of the male operators will receive and transcribe a 
 telegraphic message of fifteen hundred words in an hour; 
 will transcribe it so legibly and carefully that it may be 
 handed to the compositors of a newspaper in the shape 
 in which it has left his hands. When the annual Presi- 
 dent's Message is in progress of being telegraphed from 
 Washington to New York City, this dexterous feat of 
 receiving and transcribing is by no means a rare one. 
 But telegraph superintendents say that they do not call 
 upon women to perform it, and do not expect such a 
 service of them. ‘‘Considerable nerve”’ is required to 
 execute this task—more ‘‘nerve’’ than a woman is sup- 
 posed to have in reserve at any hour of the day or night. 
 Comparatively few men, indeed, can do it. 
 
 In another respect also, the women operators have been 
 found inferior to those of the other sex—they are oftener 
 
138 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 absent from their duties. When speaking of book-keep- 
 ers I had occasion to quote some testimony of another 
 sort: ‘‘Our women book-kKeepers,’’ said a publisher, 
 ‘Care detained from their duties by sickness or other 
 cause no oftener than our men book-keepers.’’ But of 
 the one hundred and twenty women operators at the 
 central office of the Western Union Telegraph Company 
 about one-twelfth are expected to be absent daily, and 
 arrangements are made for supplying their places. So- 
 large a proportion may not fail to put in an appearance- 
 to-morrow, but if it does fail, the vacant chairs will be: 
 filled without inconvenience to the company. Experi- 
 ence has shown that the deficit is liable to occur, and 
 that the supply for it must be in readiness. It is not. 
 entirely clear why this discrepancy between the book- 
 keepers and the telegraph operators should exist, but. 
 the labors of the latter are probably more exhaustive, 
 and their surroundings less favorable from a sanitary 
 point of view. 
 
 In one particular, however, the women operators are: 
 more satisfactory than their male rivals: they are more: 
 punctual, less frequently late in the morning, for the 
 reason, it is said, that their method of spending their 
 evenings is usually more wholesome than that of their 
 brothers. They work about nine hours a day, and whien 
 intending to begin a day’s work are promptly on hand at 
 the hour appointed. Furthermore, their employers (I 
 am speaking particularly of the officers of the Western 
 Union Company) are favorably disposed to the practice 
 of using women’s services in telegraphy, referring in 
 respectful terms to the results of experience in this. 
 
THE PROFESSION OF TELEGRAPHY. 139° 
 
 direction, and frankly expressing the opinion that 
 women make good operators. From business motives 
 these business men are ready to avail themselves of 
 woman’s skilled work in telegraphy. Sentimental con- 
 siderations, philanthropic or otherwise, do not enter into: 
 their summing up of the case. Speaking for themselves, 
 and in the light of an extended observation, they approve 
 of the employment of women operators; and I desire to 
 invite especial attention to this fact, because in the series: 
 of articles now in hand I propose to treat of the subject. 
 of the remunerative aspect of skilled work for women 
 entirely from the point of view of the business man, and. 
 never from the point of view of the theorist. 
 
 For the women themselves the practice of telegraphy 
 has certain simple and definite attractions. It does not 
 soil their dresses; it does not keep them in a standing 
 posture; it does not, they say, compromise them socially. 
 _ A’telegraph operator, they declare, has a social position 
 not inferior to that of a teacher or governess. Some 
 kinds of skilled work, they insist, are positively objec- 
 tionable: ‘‘Ina factory one’s clothes are misused; in a 
 store one can never sit down; in the kitchen of a private 
 house one is only a servant, even though a chef,’ and 
 to regard these objections as merely sentimental and 
 unworthy of serious consideration would, they claim, 
 be a mistake. At any rate, the pursuit of telegraphy is. 
 free from these inconveniences. Moreover, the young 
 women operators at the Western Union Company’s head- 
 quarters are treated by their superintendent—a young 
 woman very proficient in her profession—with sedulous 
 courtesy. She addresses them, not familiarly by their 
 
Fy 
 
 140 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Christian names, but by their surnames, with the prefix 
 ‘‘Miss,’? and she insists upon their addressing one 
 another in the same considerate fashion, except, of 
 course, when one of them is speaking to an intimate 
 friend. She does not scold them, and as for cases of 
 insubordination on their part, these are of the rarest 
 occurrence—say only two or three in half a dozen years. 
 Still further, the work is not continuous; during work- 
 ing hours there are many resting times. When a mes- 
 sage has been dispatched or received, the operator may, 
 and often does, take up her knitting, crocheting, or sew- 
 ing, passing pleasantly the interval until the arrival of 
 the next message. Reading is forbidden, because it is 
 supposed to absorb the attention to a greater extent than 
 either of the other diversions; but conversation in a low 
 tone is encouraged. Among the one hundred and twenty 
 faces the sunny and healthful ones have an immense 
 majority. ; 
 
 To offset this credit column several entries are to be 
 made on the debit side of the account. In the first 
 place, there is the disease known as telegraph cramp, 
 the diagnosis of which has not yet been thoroughly 
 ascertained by the physicians. An operator stretches 
 out her hand to press her finger upon the button of the 
 instrument, and suddenly her arm refuses to obey her 
 will, and lies numb on the desk beside her. If the ten- 
 dons of her wrist had been cut through, her manual 
 helplessness would not be greater. The strongest volun- 
 tary force is too feeble to make itself felt at the ends of 
 the fingers. The operator simply can not do her work. 
 Seven or eight of the one hundred and twenty young 
 
THE PROFESSION OF TELEGRAPHY. 141 
 
 women are subject to periodic attacks of this disease, and. 
 not one of the others knows how soon she herself may be 
 seized with it. There is no remedy but rest from tele- 
 eraphing, and exercise in the open air. In the next 
 place, in order to become a first-class operator, four or 
 five years of resolute practice are necessary, even when 
 one has what is known as ‘‘a good ear.’ The course of 
 seven or eight months’ training in the Cooper Institute, 
 or any other school, is only preliminary; every graduate, 
 no matter how fervidly expressed in her diploma is the 
 story of her accomplishments, must pursue the practice 
 of her profession for at least four years before attaining 
 the rank and emoluments of a first-class operator. Here 
 is a young woman, say eighteen years old, in the second 
 year of her course. Her pay, we will say, is as yet only 
 thirty-five dollars a month, and if she depends entirely 
 upon her earnings for support, she is likely neither to 
 save a cent nor to waste a cent. Her board and room 
 will cost her probably at least six dollars a week, or, if 
 she has aroom-mate, possibly five dollars; her luncheons, 
 her car fares, her washing, half as much more, without any 
 extravagance on her part; her office dress, evenif she make: 
 it herself, will take eight dollars out of her pocket-book; 
 her bills for other clothes, for shoes, for hats—well, it is 
 easy enough for her to expend ten dollars every week in. 
 the year, and her salary is not nine dollars. Next year, 
 perhaps, her salary will be raised to ten; but no matter 
 how proficient she may become, it is not likely to be more 
 than fifteen dollars a week. Several years ago the earn- 
 ings of both men and women operators of the first class 
 were greater than they are now, the former receiving fitf- 
 
142 : WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 teen hundred dollars a year instead of the present thir- 
 teen hundred and twenty dollars, and the latter nine 
 hundred dollars instead of the present seven hundred 
 and eighty, although at that time the cost of living was 
 higher, and the number of working-hours (for the men) 
 greater. 
 
 Another drawback to the practice of telegraphy as a 
 profession is the constant liability of the operator at the 
 other end of the line to quarrel with you when you can 
 not understand his or her message; and when he or she 
 is surly of disposition, and captious of soul, the patience 
 of the operator at this end of the line is sorely tried, and 
 often wrought into an inexplicable tangle. Further- 
 more, unless one keeps in continuous practice, her facil- 
 ity in sending or receiving messages becomes less very 
 rapidly. It is practice that not only makes perfect, but 
 keeps perfect. The most enthusiastic learner tries to 
 procure a small telegraphic instrument with a short cir- 
 cuit of wire—no matter how short if only continuous— 
 and set it up in her room at home. The entire appar- 
 atus need cost only three dollars and seventy cents; and 
 if, while waiting for a situation, or while temporarily 
 engaged in other pursuits, she sets apart some time daily 
 for exercising her fingers upon it, the best telegraph 
 operators in the world would be the last to dispute the 
 wisdom of her course. 
 
 In the brokers’ offices on Wall street, and thereabouts, 
 the hours of service are shorter, and the remuneration 
 often greater, than in the Western Union offices. Most 
 of the work is done from ten to half-past three o’ clock, 
 and very often free luncheon is provided, which the 
 
THE PROFESSION OF TELEGRAPHY. 1438 
 
 young women operators estimate as equivalent to a 
 bonus of ten dollars a month. The requirements of the 
 ‘Situation are, to be sure, more exacting than those of 
 general business, and mistakes are usually of more seri- 
 ous import. In branch offices in New York City and 
 the country the average pay is thirty-five dollars a 
 month, and the services of the women who receive it 
 are much more highly valued by the Western Union 
 ‘Telegraph Company than are the services of the men 
 whose salary is the same. One young woman who acts 
 as manager and operator in one of the city offices receives 
 sixty dollars a month, and is considered to exhibit busi- 
 mess qualities which few men possess. 
 
CHAPTER XIV.& 
 
 Lady i Jools * Canvassers. 
 
 e” T is doubtful if there is any work 
 more especially suited to the taste 
 fe and capacity of a bright, energetic 
 woman, with a good fund of com- 
 mon sense about her, than the sale 
 of subscription books throughout: 
 the conan There is just enough variety 
 about the business to prevent it from becom- 
 ing monotonous, and it pays well if the book 
 for which the agent is canvassing has suffi- 
 , cient merit to recommend it to the public, and 
 > I would advise ladies to be sure they are right 
 in this particular before they go ahead. The 
 best books published now—that is, the most 
 valuable to have in the family —are sold - 
 entirely by subscription, and much pains is taken in 
 selecting good canvassers who will confer honor on the 
 business, as well as solicit numerous orders. Itis by no 
 means necessary that the lady book agent should go out. 
 on a canvassing tour—as suggested in a recent work on 
 the subject—armed with a revolver, and bearing a ficti- 
 tious name. There is nothing in the work to be ashamed 
 
 of. On the contrary, the lady agent will find in the same- - 
 144 
 
 SF 
 Zaz 
 
 i 
 tr . i 
 oy iti 
 v 
 By 
 
 * 
 
 Bas 
 
 ¥ y: rae. 
 i aU 
 | Se 
 
LADY BOOK CANVASSERS. 145 
 
 field of labor the wives and widows of lawyers, doctors, 
 statesmen, and army officers—women who have been well 
 educated and reared ina position of luxury, and whose 
 health would not permit them to fill indoor situations, 
 even if they could obtain them. Some of these agents 
 make as much as two thousand dollars a year; others 
 easily realize a profit of one thousand dollars over and 
 above all expenses. The necessary qualifications are so 
 varied that it would be impossible to enumerate them 
 here. Much depends on personal magnetism and a 
 quiet, lady-like persistence in representing the merits 
 of the book, and in adhering strictly to business in such 
 a manner as to win the respect of the parties who are 
 solicited to subscribe. The true lady will compel every 
 man into whose office or store she enters, to treat her as 
 he would wish hisown mother or sister to be treated at 
 the hands of other men. She has a right to be heard; 
 has just as good a right to demand a market for her 
 goods as he has for his, and both parties must approach 
 each other on the basis of mutual respect and tolerance. 
 
 Ladies who go into strange towns to canvass should 
 endeavor to obtain board in a respectable private family, 
 if they expect to remain some time in the place, and 
 then begin systematically a course of regular canvassing, 
 allowing no temporary wotries and disappointments to dis- 
 courage them. Theagent must not be too sensitive, or for- 
 get for a moment the object she has in view, that of mak- 
 ing an honorable living. She will, if she is wise, always 
 leave a good impression upon those whom she meets, 
 whether she makes a sale or not; the way will be 
 smoother then for a second visit. She will clearly define 
 
 4 - 
 
146 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 the scope and value of the work she is endeavoring to 
 sell, but will make no statements which she can not sub- 
 stantiate. To be able to do this, she must make herself 
 thoroughly acquainted with the work, and also have 
 confidence in the publisher who employs her; and a good 
 publisher will never send out a rubbishy book. She 
 must be in entire sympathy with her work, and know 
 what she is talking about. Such an agent can not help 
 being successful. 
 
 Lady agents will do well to dress in a quiet manner, 
 wearing but little jewelry, but presenting a neat, lady- 
 like appearance, winning rather than demanding atten- 
 tion, and putting aside any attempt at compliment or 
 raillery from strangers with a quiet dignity of manner, © 
 but at the same time continuing pleasantly in the safe and 
 straightforward path of business. They will find that it 
 depends much on themselves whether they are success- 
 ful or not. Even if they do not succeed at once, there is 
 a possibility that they may do well the next time, or, at 
 any rate, they will leave that good impression which will 
 smooth the way for a later venture. 
 
 The agent who regards her business as a permanent 
 one, will see that her books are all delivered to custom- 
 ers aS per agreement, and in as agreeable a manner as 
 the order was taken. One of the most successful lady 
 agents in the State of Illinois, who has by means of her 
 book sales purchased a charming home, says that she 
 truly believes that her customers are always glad to see 
 her, no matter what she brings them, sometimes a book, 
 often a paper or magazine. She is neither young nor 
 pretty, but she has that method of attracting and com- 
 
LADY BOOK CANVASSERS. 147 
 
 manding respectful attention which is so necessary to 
 her business. She boards always among the best people, 
 and is in the true sense of the word a lady. 
 
 OTHER AGENCIES. 
 
 Sewing machines have been a very popular method by 
 which women make money, both in selling the machines 
 and in operating upon them. They offer very suitable 
 employment, and although there is less demand for them 
 than formerly, and the profits are cut down, there is still 
 money to be made in that special department. 
 
 Organs and pianos can be bought and sold by one who 
 understands the business and is disposed to turn an 
 honest penny. Music teachers make considerable money 
 by taking an order fora piano and turning it over to a 
 dealer, who, on a fine instrument, will pay a commission 
 of from $50 to $100, the parties who are purchasing pay- 
 ing for the instrument its regular retail rates. 
 
 Cooking stoves, which are always in demand, and 
 which any woman can talk about intelligently, can be 
 sold from circulars and photographs, and the old ones 
 taken at a fair estimate in part payment, the dealers who 
 send out the agent managing the moving and freight of 
 the goods. 
 
 Corsets offer another good and useful article for which 
 ladies can canvass, and need meet only their own sex in 
 making sales. Some women make $20 a week selling 
 corsets. It may not be the most agreeable method of 
 making a living, but half a loaf is better than no bread. 
 
 Insurance companies employ a number of lady agents, 
 who solicit orders, fill out the policies, and make a cer- 
 
148 _ WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 tain percentage upon each new member. This business 
 ranks about the same as the book agency. 
 
 Charts for cutting dresses, boots and shoes, smal? 
 patent articles such as pillow-sham holders, and a great 
 variety of household articles, are sold by ladies, but 
 these belong more particularly to the commercial 
 travelers. 
 
eae 
 
 CHAPTER XV.-3 
 
 Act x and x Ind ustrial x Exchanges, 
 
 Wasi” N the past few years there has grown 
 out of the esthetic atmosphere a 
 new and important industry for 
 women in the organization of so- 
 cieties for promoting the use and 
 
 ~@ sale of fancy and decorative work, 
 hand: -paintings on panels and screens, and 
 every sort of hand decorated articles for use 
 or adornment in the home. These are sent 
 in to what is known as an ‘‘ Exchange for 
 
 s Women’s Work,”’ numbers of which have 
 
 grown up through the country, and sold for 
 the benefit of the manufacturer or artist, with 
 a small commission, which goes to the Ex- 
 change. Everything that can be used in the 
 
 Pail 4 is for sale or on order at these places. Bread 
 and cake are supplied to families daily, and the makers 
 remain unknown, some of the best society ladies thus 
 employing their surplus time to increase their skill in 
 cooking, at the same time adding not a little to their pin 
 money. The judicious way of carrying on the business 
 largely by orders prevents loss to either party. The 
 ready sale of preserved and spiced fruits, pickles, jellies 
 
 149 
 
150 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and cakes, has offered to many ladies a satisfactory 
 return for their work, the receipts from this depart- 
 ment alone, in the New York Exchange, amounting 
 the first half year to $6,000. The consigners of goods 
 pay for yearly membership a sum of $2 or a trifle more, 
 and from ten to fifteen per cent. on the goods, according: 
 to the class, ten per cent. being, however, the regular 
 price. As the work is nearly all the result of private 
 enterprise, it is much better than the same class of goods 
 found in stores; and there is such a general assortment 
 that almost everything in manufactured goods can be 
 found there. There is also the modern supply of bric-a- 
 brac, old china, fine needle work, rare vases, and often 
 the articles of ancient value that used to find their way 
 into the pawnbrokers hands to raise money for immediate 
 necessity, are disposed of in these places at something 
 like an approximate value, the class of people who 
 patronize them being connoisseurs in art. It will be 
 remembered that this is a woman's institution, organ- 
 ized and conducted solely by women, and patronized by 
 them. It is an auxiliary to the Decorative Art Society, 
 many of the ladies engaged in this work being sub- 
 scribers to that, and, consequently, friendly to its aims 
 and purposes. They appreciate the work as a school, 
 recognize in many of their own best things the teachings 
 of that society, and claim that in furnishing a salesroom 
 for the articles rejected, because not up to the artistic 
 standard, yet in many cases beautiful and saleable, 
 they are helping those who, thoroughly imbued with a 
 proper ambition, can not afford to improve unless their 
 
ART AND INDUSTRIAL EXCHANGES. 151 
 
 unfortunate efforts can give them the means for another 
 trial. | 
 
 Of course the work offered to the Exchange must pass 
 a careful examination or it will not be admitted. The 
 rules which govern the organization are about the same 
 wherever the Exchange exists, and inferior work would 
 soon injure the reputation of the institution. The man- 
 agers have made a wide detour from the first straight 
 line they laid down, and now have the articles of use in 
 the majority; and the report of the New York Woman’s 
 Exchange states that ‘‘the managers of the Exchange 
 also extend a helping hand to the many intelligent and 
 cultivated women who are not and never can be artists, 
 and who, when changed circumstances and common 
 sense demand that they shall help themselves, have the 
 wisdom to do what they can find a market for; and we 
 hope in time to be able to induce many with no talent to 
 throw away their paint brushes and follow the example 
 of those who contribute to our department of useful 
 things.”’ The census estimates that in the United States 
 there are fifteen thousand women who make their living 
 canning fruit and vegetables. 
 
 In order to reach any of these institutions it is only 
 necessary to send a stamp for return postage and address 
 the Exchange for Woman’s Work, New York, Chicago, 
 Cincinnati, Boston, Detroit, Mich., Cleveland, Ohio, Mil- 
 waukee, Wis., or any of the cities in which they are 
 located, writing the full address, town, county and State, 
 with postoffice number, and requesting a circular which 
 will fully explain their manner of doing business. The 
 New York Exchange announces that in the time during 
 
152 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 which it accepted for sale sixteen thousand articles, it 
 rejected only twenty-five. The membership to this insti- 
 tution is now $5 yearly. Among the articles sold at these 
 places may be enumerated all kinds of Christmas and 
 birthday gifts, banners, lambrequins for mantle shelves, 
 embroidered pillow-shams, napkin bands, suspenders, 
 slippers, toilet articles, shoe bags, whisk holders, toilet 
 bags, Macramé lace fringes and shopping satchels, silk 
 mittens, crazy silk work, and whatever is new and popu- 
 lar at the moment. In the cookery department loaves of 
 good home-made bread, tea biscuits, cakes of all kinds, 
 large and small, Charlotte Russe, and any delicacies for 
 the table that can be safely moved in transportation. 
 
 SOMETHING FOR WOMAN TO DO—A LADY WHO EARNS 
 $10,000 A YEAR FROM PRESERVES AND PICKLES. 
 
 A lady writes from Boston: ‘‘I have often heard com- — 
 plaints that there was nothing for women to do by which 
 they could earn as much money as men. Perhaps there 
 is nothing in the same line of business as that followed 
 by men; but taking all the professions followed by 
 women, it seems to me that there is a great deal of 
 money made by them. The enormous sums paid singers 
 and actresses are too well known to need mentioning. 
 But there are other lines of business that women may 
 follow, who have no natural gifts such as these. I 
 heard the other day of a lady who is making a hand- 
 some income for herself, and all in the most quiet way. 
 This lady is a Miss Martin, and she is the daughter of a 
 gentleman living near Auburn, in this State (N. Y.), who 
 at one time was very wealthy; but although the family 
 
ART AND INDUSTRIAL EXCHANGES. 153 
 
 still live in the old homestead, which is a noble mansion, 
 they are very much reduced in circumstances. Miss 
 Martin, when she became old enough to want money, 
 and to know that it did not always come for the want- 
 ing, cast about for something to do by which she could 
 earn her living and not be dependent on her father. It 
 seemed as though all the avenues were closed. She was 
 not gifted in any particular way, though she was a 
 woman of excellent education, and had all the advan- 
 tages that came from a high social position. But she 
 neither sang well enough for the stage, nor had she any 
 histrionic talent. In giving the subject serious consider- 
 ation, she remembered that there was one thing she 
 could do very well, and that was preserving. She told 
 her friends that she was going to make a large quantity 
 of pickles and preserves of different kinds, and she 
 wanted to sell them. Knowing what an excellent house- 
 keeper she was, they knew that anything that was made 
 under her supervision would be sure to be good, so she 
 had no trouble in selling all she had the first year. The 
 second year she made more yet, and was unable to sup- 
 ply the demand. The third year she increased her facil- 
 ities, and her reputation had by this time spread so far 
 that she did a very large business, and even sold to some 
 of the larger stores of New York. Now a friend of hers 
 tells me that her profits from pickles and preserves 
 reaches the very comfortable sum of $6,000 to $10,000 
 a year, and she only works from May to November. 
 Auburn being a little far from the New York markets, 
 where fruit can be bought best and cheapest, Miss Mar- 
 tin has come down and taken a place at Glen Cove, to 
 
154. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 gain the advantages of a nearer residence to New York. 
 One of the secrets of Miss Martin’s success is that every- 
 thing she makes is the very best of its kind. All the 
 ingredients she uses in her pickles and preserves are the 
 best in the market, and though she employs a number 
 of men and women, she superintends everything herself, 
 and while her articles are all in the shops, they have a 
 home-like taste that is unmistakable. All the jars bear 
 her initials, written in fac-simile of her autograph, on a 
 neat label on the side. A sister of Miss Martin, seeing 
 her success, cast about for something todo. Of course 
 she did not want to go into the same line of business, 
 and finally she struck upon cake-making as a means of 
 livelihood, and her cakes are now almost as celebrated as. 
 her sister’s pickles and preserves. She lives at Auburn, 
 but she receives orders from New York, and even New-- 
 port. Miss Martin’s cakes are considered an essential 
 part of a well regulated family in New York. 
 
 PURCHASING AGENCIES. 
 
 In many large cities there are ladies who make a liveli- 
 hood by purchasing goods on commission, their custom- 
 ers being persons who live at a distance from the metrop- 
 olis, and who send to them for dress goods, millinery or 
 house furnishings; anything, in fact, from a bridal trous- 
 seau to a paper of pins. These shopping agents charge 
 a small commission to the customer, while the merchant 
 sells to them at wholesale rates, so that they average a 
 profit of twenty-five per cent. on all money expended. 
 It is a safe and pleasant business, the parties transact- 
 ing it being mutually endorsed by responsible people. 
 
2 aera 
 
 ART AND INDUSTRIAL EXCHANGES. 155: 
 
 Among the trades which are specially adapted to deft 
 feminine fingers are the fine arts of repairing and rivet- 
 ing broken glass and China, mending delicate fans, and 
 restoring chipped pottery. There is no known reason 
 why a woman with a fair musical ear should not practice 
 tuning pianos: this is an occupation which requires little 
 outlay in the way of implements. Another profession 
 in which a woman of artistic tendencies could turn with 
 profit in this esthetic age is adviser in relation to artistic 
 furnishing of houses, selecting hangings, stained glass, 
 oriental rugs and fine furniture on commission. ‘This. 
 profession is not necessarily attached to, though supple- 
 mental to a knowledge of, architecture, and the Garrets. 
 
 have made this business very profitable. It must be 
 
 borne in mind that most of these suggestions are appli- 
 cable to dwellers in large cities, where there is sufficient: 
 demand to create the supply. 
 
 Correcting proof, not for printers so much as for 
 authors, preparing manuscripts for the press, and fur- 
 nisiing indices to works of importance, demand an eye 
 well trained to the latest English exploits in preferred. 
 spellings, a fair knowledge of modern and classic lan- 
 guages, or, at any rate, an enterprising intimacy with 
 their dictionaries, besides a good knowledge of the 
 subject of any work. 
 
 Already we hear of a few women who have made nota- 
 ble success at indexing libraries, both in Boston and in 
 Philadelphia. This is an occupation that all assistant 
 librarians should expect to grow up into, as the catalogue 
 maker stands next in importance to the book maker. It 
 
156 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 is, besides, valuable as educational aid, and there is no 
 
 trained teacher or professor but might be proud to suc- 
 ceed in it. 
 
 MENDING AND DARNING. 
 
 Some old ladies who are neat and handy with the 
 needle make quite a little money by darning and mend- 
 ing, filling up their otherwise spare time profitably and 
 pleasantly. But even to succeed in this they must be 
 artists. Is there anything more uncomfortable than a 
 rough, unseemly darn? Many a man will wear hose 
 that are as perforated as a sieve rather than encounter a 
 hasty darn. As a general thing, young men away from 
 home have no one to call upon to perform this kindly 
 office for them excepting their washerwomen, and these 
 are by no means adepts in the art of darning or mend- 
 ing, and the youth who has been accustomed at home to 
 having his hose mended and ready for him to draw on, 
 the missing button replaced, the torn or fringed garment 
 neatly repaired, devotes his Sundays to a renovation of 
 his wardrobe, or goes ragged. 
 
 Now, suppose he paid 5 cents a pair to have his socks 
 darned, 2 cents each for buttons sewed on, 3 cents for a 
 patch, or 25 cents a week to have his clothes kept in 
 good repair, how small a sum for comfort, and easily 
 saved out of a small salary, by abolishing some trifling 
 expense of cigars or car fare. A class of these young 
 men could be easily obtained, and to this industry could 
 be added family mending, carpet repairing, lace darning, 
 linen marking, etc. A skillful woman could make a liv- 
 
ART AND INDUSTRIAL EXCHANGES. 157 
 
 ing easily out of these fragmentary industries. But 
 here, as in all other branches, comes in the question of 
 fitness, adaptability, system. Good menders, who are 
 willing to serve the public, are just as hard to find as 
 trained help in other and more important departments. 
 
 READY WRITERS. 
 
 In large cities like New York there are women who 
 make a living by writing letters, principally for servants 
 or people of neglected education. They write a beauti- 
 ful chirography, and are happy in expressing the senti- 
 ments of their different employers; the service rates 
 from 10 cents to 25 cents a letter. These writers are 
 gifted with vivid imaginations, and they can indite a 
 love-letter, a message to distant friends, a business mis- 
 sive, or a lecture or political address with the utmost 
 ease. There is one woman in New York who makes 
 considerable money out of the work. She has a suite of 
 rooms plainly but comfortably furnished, and her cus. 
 tomers have regular hours to see her, when she writes to 
 their dictation, charging by the hour, which she divides 
 in sections, not engaging her pen for less service than 
 that of a quarter hour. Her terms are one dollar an 
 hour, and the people who employ her are of the better 
 sort of uneducated trades people, who are ashamed of 
 their ignorance. She writes fluently in French, German, 
 Italian, and English, and shrewdly insists upon furnish- 
 ing her own paper, envelopes, and stamps, upon which 
 she realizes a small per centage. 
 
 There are also women who write verses for valentines, 
 
158 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 mottoes for candy, obituary notices, advertisements, cir- 
 culars, visiting cards, cards of condolence, etc. The 
 type-writer and copying press have taken a great share 
 of the copyist’s work from her, but many girls and 
 women are yet employed on law work, copying the 
 voluminous legal writings, which result in every impor- 
 tant case. 
 
MQHAPTER XVLe 
 
 The % Profession * of « Klocufien. 
 
 J ¢ ex i) (O the student, reading and declaiming 
 
 Lill oh i i poems and prose selections now offers 
 (22 i pe a really important field of labor in 
 eZ, the smaller towns and cities where 
 wi 4% there are no theatres, giving a very 
 fair remuneration to the public reader. In 
 larger towns it is the custom for wealthy 
 society ladies to invite them to furnish an 
 evening’s amusement and entertainment 
 to friends, and the young debutante in 
 <. this particular branch need have no false 
 ideas of pride in regard to a paid invita- 
 V7 tion, where she can do honor to her pro- 
 igre  fession, charm a circle of interested listen- 
 -ers, and add ten, fifteen or twenty-five dollars to her 
 income. It is understood that she is a professional 
 reader, and not an amateur or volunteer. She makes 
 ‘her entrance at the hour designated by the hostess, 
 reads her selections, with brief interludes of music, and 
 when she has finished quietly withdraws, regarding the 
 guests simply as an audience. There is nothing derog- 
 -atory to the dignity of any lady in giving these readings 
 
 Seess? 
 
160 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 or recitations. She takes the same stand that the pianist 
 or other musical artist does, who, if he be an artist, rises 
 ‘superior to any mere pretention to the claims of society, 
 and distinguishes himself as an exponent of his art. To. 
 insist on being a guest is lowering the standard of pro- 
 fessional dignity. That matter will adjust itself in small 
 social circles, but in the severe ethics of metropolitan 
 society rules are arbitrary, and an attempt to break them 
 would result in disagreeable failure. | 
 
 Schools for elocution are now established in Boston, 
 New York, and many smaller towns, and they offer 
 great advantages to the student, as in developing -the 
 
 voice the lungs are strengthened, the general health 
 
 improved, and an easy, graceful manner acquired, 
 together with a culture which comes of the combined 
 forces of zesthetic development included in the studies of 
 this course of education. In Detroit, Michigan, there is a. 
 training school in elocution and English literature, man- 
 aged and sustained by Mrs. Edna Chaffee Noble, whose 
 portrait will be found in this work. Mrs. Noble is. 
 assisted by a large corps of teachers and professors, 
 many of whom are graduates of her school, and are now 
 reimbursing themselves in this manner. English liter- 
 ature, classes in Shakespeare, in mythology, in many 
 ancient and abstruse studies are included in the course, 
 but the aim of the school is to teach a high standard of 
 ‘elocution. It is, perhaps, a sufficient diploma for Mrs. 
 Noble, that her scholars are many of them successful 
 
 teachers, and earning a good living, while ladies who: 
 
 studied with her for the advantage of the culture elocu- 
 tion gives, have the power to gratify themselves and. 
 
 7 
 
> eae 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF ELOCUTION. 161 
 
 their friends by the accomplishment. The Detroit 
 School of Elocution has sent its pupils out as readers 
 north and south, east and west, and they have the capac. 
 ity of filling halls wherever they go with a paying audi- 
 ence. The labor of the course is severe, but it is thor- 
 ough and beneficial. ? 
 
 There is now a literature of elocution, so that the 
 reader can, without difficulty, find grave or gay selec- 
 tions, new methods to please, and so fill out an evening 
 with a variety that gives the vocal organs full scope for 
 all their powers. The elocutionist can imitate a bird 
 singing, a chicken piping, machinery creaking, a child 
 laughing, or a piano playing. She can make her list- 
 ener cry or laugh at will. She can read tragedy or 
 comedy with a stage effect that gives it all the attrac- 
 tions of a theatre, without its associations, and she can 
 whistle like a boy, or like a steam engine—things that 
 seem of little account, but which require months of 
 careful study to accomplish. Mrs. Noble has made her 
 school a financial as well as an educational success. The 
 course includes the whole science of elocution, voice- 
 building, vocal physiology, and other calisthenics of 
 the organs of speech. Mrs. Noble is the director of the 
 school; the faculty consists of an equal number of male 
 and female professors. 
 
 ‘*A great deal,’ says N. H. Gillespie, ‘‘ has been said. 
 and written upon the subject of elocution. Authors and 
 
 teachers have furnished excellent rules for pronuncia- 
 
 tion and the correct modulation of the voice; they have 
 
 explained the nature and use of stress, volume, pitch, 
 
 11 
 
162 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 slides, inflections, and all the other elements which enter 
 into correct reading and speaking. 
 
 This drill, however, though very useful and even 
 necessary to a successful cultivation of the art of speak- 
 ing, will never make an elocutionist. It may render a 
 person a good mimic or imitator, but that is all. 
 
 To become an elocutionist in the true sense of the 
 word, one must learn to do what Dr. Johnson declared 
 was done by Garrick, the celebrated actor. When asked 
 his opinion of the reputation attained by that wonderful 
 interpreter of Shakespeare, he replied: ‘‘Oh, sir, he 
 deserves everything he has acquired for having seized 
 the soul of Shakespeare, for having embodied it in him- 
 self, and for having expanded its glory over the world.” 
 Yes, herein, lies the secret of elocution—one must seize 
 the soul of the author whose thoughts he would repro- 
 duce; he must embody that soul in himself, making it a 
 part of his own being, and then he will speak with that 
 forcible eloquence which alone deserves the name of 
 elocution. 
 
 Having ascertained the meaning of the author, the 
 next and most important step is, as Dr. Johnson has it, 
 to seize and embody in one’s self the soul of the author. 
 This is accomplished by studying carefully the character 
 of the man, ascertaining his peculiarities, his habits of 
 thought, his natural disposition and temper—in a word, 
 the tone of his mind. 
 
 Then comes the last step, which consists in putting 
 one’s self, for the time at least, in that man’s place, 
 creating in one’s self a tone and habit of thought similar 
 to his, and striving to feel as he most likely felt while 
 
 \ 
 
HHL 
 
 | 
 
 MRS. EDNA C, NOBLE, 
 
THE PROFESSION OF ELOCUTION. 163 
 
 ‘writing, or as he would probably feel were he to deliver 
 orally what he had written. Thus prepared and worked 
 up into the spirit of the author, the speaker may fear- 
 dessly come forward and feel perfectly confident that 
 with ordinary speaking ability he will express forcibly 
 the thoughts of the author. And this is true elocution. 
 
 The address delivered to the graduating class of the 
 Detroit Training School, 1883, by Mrs. Edna Chaffee 
 Noble, is worthy of careful reading. 
 
 THE STUDY OF ELOCUTION. 
 
 In coming before you in the past, I have avoided every- 
 thing that seemed explanatory of the use or abuse of the art I 
 taught, thinking the time of my pupils so precious that it would 
 be a waste to talk of that with which I hoped and thought they 
 were already familiar. I think I should have used a part of the 
 time at least more fitly and wisely, had I striven to impress 
 upon them the true value of the study of elocution, I find that 
 many persons of broad culture and education have given little 
 thought or care to the art of delivery, and the greater number 
 of my pupils have studied with me because the study was novel 
 or pleasing, or to pass away time, or because a friend studied, 
 or to make a little show with a few select recitations, and I 
 now believe that very few understood the value of close appli- 
 «cation, of regular, thorough drill, of well-seasoned and well- 
 timed practice in this work. A little thought upon this shows 
 me that there have been few subjects that are of the least 
 importance as educators in our land, where none need be ignor- 
 ant, that have been so little written upon or talked about, or 
 held up as worthy working for, as this study of training the 
 natural voice to its highest powers in speaking, this study of 
 modulating voice and breath into distinct and separate forms, 
 
164 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 this study at its best, of rendering thought and feeling tangible, 
 that others may grasp it and look at it as we do, this study so 
 neglected of bringing to the highest development articulate 
 sounds, is the great gift from God which distinguishes us from 
 the brute. 
 
 The art of speaking well is a characteristic mark between the 
 educated and the unlearned, and is closely connected with labors: 
 in the highest walks of ambition and taste; yet, with many, 
 elocution is a term representing something that is considered 
 entirely artificial, worse than unnecessary, and the results of its. 
 study altogether to be deplored, and they even go so far as to 
 speak lightly, and even contemptuously, of it. A few sentences: 
 expressing doubts in the mind of some candid person, in regard 
 to the beneficial results of elocution in the community, came to: 
 my notice a few weeks ago, and, I remember, elicited much 
 comment from members of this class, and much surprise. Your 
 own fresh interest could not allow that another’s thought upon 
 this subject should differ from your own. Criticism and doubt. 
 are good if founded upon thorough knowledge, but many 
 to-day find it easy to pass judgment upon a subject of which 
 they are totally ignorant, and criticise in proportion, as they 
 have not studied. 
 
 Dr. Holmes says a man behind the times is apt to speak ill of 
 them, on the principle that nothing looks well from behind. 
 Let us hope that this doubter is viewing the art of elocution 
 from behind, for whoever is ignorant of a subject can not seri- 
 ously appreciate it, or criticise its merits or demerits, much less: 
 define the harm or good of its being. There are reasons why 
 the common observer should criticise a subject he has not inves- 
 tigated. The efforts to which his attention is usually called are 
 the results, not of finished, careful training, but are the crude 
 attempts of a person who has mastered the beginning of an art,, 
 
 Nae Re 
 1 he pla Beas eset 
 
THE PROFESSION OF ELOCUTION. 165 
 
 and mistaken it for the end. How many years are spent in 
 incessant toil, in close discipline, in orderly tasks, to produce 
 accomplishment of voice for singing? How many weary hours 
 of practice upon the piano, the careful lessons in touch and 
 style, the earnest application of ear and eye—the giving of 
 one’s life and fortune to the acquirement of an art which not 
 one out of one hundred ever uses for one’s own pleasure or profit, 
 or for the delight of others? Compare these worthy efforts with 
 the feeble attempts to master the art of elocution, and no longer 
 be surprised that mere lookers on should “consider it a serious 
 question whether elocution does not do more harm than good in 
 the community.” It is not easy to impress upon people the 
 value of elocutionary study, or the necessity to spend time and 
 money in the acquirement of this art, because the belief has, 
 through some means, gained a strong hold that reading is not a 
 subject that can be taught; that it has no rules, no principles, 
 except those of nature, and that in this work nature must exer- 
 cise her own powers. The opinion is common that the ability 
 to read well is a talent, an unstudied and unsought power, given 
 to one and denied another. “In this world all things bear two 
 meanings—one for the common observer, and one for the mind 
 of him who, with an earnest purpose and steadfast, loving heart, 
 penetrates into those mines of hidden riches, the treasures of 
 science and imagination.” These two interpretations are given 
 to all arts, and especially to that science and art of all that is 
 embodied in the word elocution. Undoubtedly something 
 
 _ depends, in reading, upon natural talent, but hard work is neces- 
 
 sary to liberate the wondrous manifestations of human thought 
 and life which are prisoned behind those bars, the closed lips. 
 Reading is not like many other arts, absolutely forbidden to 
 those who have not served an apprenticeship. Painting and 
 sculpture are unnoted by comment, unless the skilled hand has 
 
166 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 wrought. But the rudest and most uneducated handle these 
 tools of speech every day; and it is only the skilled tongue that 
 can lift them out of their ordinary life, through this art of arts, 
 and place the result beside the masterpieces in marble and color, 
 and beyond the reach of vulgar criticism. 
 
 THE THOUSAND-FOLD HABIT OF SPEECH 
 
 has made its processes so unconscious that when they at first: 
 become conscious they are almost sure to become unnatural. 
 Legouvé gives an account of a character written for a child in 
 one of his plays which was given to a girl of ten, full of grate 
 and intelligence. He says: “ At the general rehearsal my little 
 actress did wonders, and a spectator sitting in front of me 
 applauded very loudly, exclaiming, ‘ What truth, what sim- 
 plicity! It is very evident that she has never been taught to 
 do that.’ Now, for a whole month,” Legouvé says, “I had done 
 nothing but teach her that part, intonation by intonation. Not. 
 that in any way it was beyond her childish capacity, for many 
 of the expressions were borrowed from my little actress herself. 
 But so soon as these expressions were embodied in her part, So’ 
 soon as she had to recite them, every trace of naturalness van- 
 ished. What she said to perfection when she spoke for herself,. 
 she uttered coldly and unmeaningly when she spoke for another. 
 and it cost me much time and labor to bring her back to herself;, 
 to reteach her. It thus appears that reading is so deep an art 
 that it must be taught to those who reveal it to us.” Art and 
 nature will never perfectly blend until those who attempt to 
 become artists in this direction are willing to serve as faithfully 
 for this acquisition, work as devotedly, with as much consecra- 
 tion, and give as much time to its study and practice as they 
 would in the cultivation of any of the higher arts. 
 
 Popular prejudice often deters people from even an investiga- 
 
THE PROFESSION OF ELOCUTION. 167 
 
 tion of very important subjects. Six years ago fully one-half of 
 my pupils came secretly to take their lessons in elocution. 
 Clergymen and married ladies were among the timid; they 
 feared people would know they were making an effort to over- 
 come harshness of voice or awkwardness of manner. ‘“ God’s 
 highest gift to man is speech, and it is too solemn a thing to 
 treat so lightly. It grows out from our life, out of its agonies 
 and ecstasies, its wants and its weariness. Speech is the temple 
 in which the soul is enshrined.” Why should we not be proud 
 to keep such atemple in repair? Our commonest words, if prop- 
 erly uttered, hang pictures before our eyes more wonderful than 
 the paintings of the greatest masters, for nowhere does man as 
 artist come so near the Divine Creator as in the words he uses, 
 —out of our mouths are we condemned or exalted. Legere est 
 illuminare. 
 
 We are now at the end of our short journey together. 
 Columbus took note of his passage on his voyage of discovery, 
 and could make it again unaided, but many of the men who 
 were with him knew only of the fathomless, stormy sea. May 
 I not hope that a way has been noted by you so that you may 
 make subsequent passages alone. Mark that I say a way; not 
 the way. Let me entreat you not to make your method 
 youridol. “Tron is essentially the same everywhere and always, 
 and because the sulphate of iron differs from the carbonate of 
 iron, do not forget that it is iron all the same.” Elocution is 
 elocution, and because the Smithate elocution differs from 
 the Brownate, do not let that render you intolerant of all that 
 does not bear the seal of the Detroit Training School. Do not 
 label your wares like vendors of patent medicines, saying all 
 are base counterfeits unless bearing this seal. In fact, do 
 not talk too much about yourselves or your work. “A little 
 knowledge is a dangerous thing ”—dangerous, because it is apt 
 
168 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 to make us conceited, and conceit hedges up the path to newer 
 knowledge, and although I would most heartily urge you to 
 faith in your work and enthusiasm for it, yet do not let your 
 ardor be one that will lower your art in the minds of the disin- 
 terested. There was once a simpleton who had a house to sell, 
 and had constantly on exhibition a brick as a sample of his 
 great possession. A consciousness of knowledge is best made 
 known by doing something so well that the deed will speak for 
 itself, and will require no puffing or labeling. Do not be too 
 sure that the value your friends set upon your accomplishments 
 will at all coincide with your market value; and do not be dis- 
 couraged if the public estimate your worth below your own 
 fixed ideas. ‘Do the prettiest thing you can and wait your 
 time,” for if you have powers beyond the ordinary, be sure 
 there will be a time and place for the exercise of those powers. 
 
 The world, in its need, is keen to detect the best, and requires 
 no sign to designate its abode. You must not rest upon the 
 laurels you have already won, but remember that “It never 
 rains roses; if we want more roses we must plant more trees.” 
 Work is the only key to success, Burns plowed the daisy 
 under before he lifted it up to bloom in immortal verse. 
 
 No clock ever yet struck twelve without giving all the strokes 
 from one, and [ hope you have learned this most valuable lesson, 
 that you can not hope to compute the highest numbers in the 
 problems of life or fame without counting patiently the units. 
 
=QHAPTER XVILe 
 
 ; The * [Profession * of Dursing. 
 
 > 
 
 v= a4 HE stranger in New York who may 
 eS { chance to visit the east side of the . 
 yi) city, in the neighborhood of Twenty- 
 4 sixth street, will have his attention 
 A called to a long, grayish, four-story 
 #% prison-like structure, with a wing, 
 situated in a block which extends to the 
 East River, and inclosed by a high, for- 
 bidding stone wall. This is the Bellevue 
 Hospital, the chief free public institution 
 of the kind in America. For many years 
 it has been famous for the high medical 
 and surgical skill of which it is the thea- 
 ter, its faculty embracing many leading 
 ; members of the profession in the city. 
 4 For many years to come it is likely to be popularly 
 ‘ associated with another high development of the cura- 
 tive arts,—the results of the founding, in 1878, of the 
 Bellevue Training School for Nurses, and of a new pro- 
 
 fession for women in America. 
 Not long ago a lady living in the suburbs of one of 
 our eastern cities, whose daughter was ill with fever, 
 
 was urged by her physician to employ a professional 
 169 
 
170 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 nurse. She was loth to do this, but, as the malady 
 
 increased in virulence, she finally yielded. The follow- 
 
 ing morning the servant announced ‘‘the nurse.’ To 
 
 . the mother’s imagination—overwrought as it was by 
 
 lack of rest and by unremitting watching—the words. 
 called up the most disagreeable anticipations of a care-. 
 
 less and disorderly person, and perhaps even a dark rem- 
 iniscence of Sairey Gamp scolding, trembling invalids,. 
 removing their pillows, or drinking copiously from black 
 bottles, while grim-visaged Betsey Prig looked on with 
 unconcern. With these pictures of the professional 
 
 nurse before her, she descended to the hall. There, to 
 her surprise, she found a young woman of intelligent: 
 
 face, neat apparel, and quiet demeanor. 
 
 ‘*'You are ——”’ 
 
 ‘‘The nurse, madam.”’ 
 
 Saying which, the stranger exhibited a badge inscribed. 
 with the words, ‘‘ Bellevue Hospital Training School for 
 Nurses,’’ and decorated with a stork, the emblem of 
 watchfulness. 
 
 The physician now appearing, the nurse listened atten- 
 tively to his instructions. Her movements, while pre- 
 
 paring for duty, inspired with confidence both mother 
 and patient. Her skillful hand prepared the food, her 
 
 watchful eye anticipated every want. She was calm, 
 patient, and sympathizing; but, though eager to please 
 and cheer the invalid, she did not stoop to simulate an. 
 affection she did not feel, nor to express hopes of recov-- 
 ery that could not be realized. The exaction, the impa- 
 tience incident to illness, seemed but to incite her to 
 renewed effort in behalf of her charge. She met every 
 
et 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF NURSING. 171 
 
 emergency with knowledge and unrufiled spirit. To the: 
 physician she proved an invaluable assistant, executing 
 his orders intelligently, and recording accurately the 
 various symptoms as they were developed. She watched 
 the temperature of the room as closely as she did that of 
 the patient, and, while always polite and obliging, was 
 never obsequious. The mother had doubtless heard 
 indirectly of the school of which her efficient nurse was. 
 a graduate, but she was, as many others are, unfamiliar 
 with its work and aims. 
 
 When the managers of the training school announced, 
 some years since, that they would send nurses to private: 
 families in cases of illness, the applications were so few 
 that they were led to fear that this branch of the school 
 would be unsupported, and that the nurses would find 
 themselves deceived regarding their future prospects. 
 But the value of the trained nurse, little known at that. 
 time in America, soon began to be recognized, and the 
 demand for such services increased, until, at the present. 
 time, there is a greater call for nurses than can be sup- 
 plied. Many who formerly refused to consider a sug- 
 gestion to call in a nurse, now eagerly apply for them;. 
 and surgeons, in certain instances, have refused to per- 
 form operations without the subsequent assistance of a 
 
 trained nurse. 
 
 Before going to a private house, the nurse is carefully 
 instructed by the superintendent. She must not leave it 
 without communicating with her, nor return from her 
 duties without a certificate of conduct and efficiency 
 from the family of the patient or the physician attend- 
 ing. She is expected and urged to bear in mind the 
 
172 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 importance of the situation, and to show, at all times, 
 self-denial and forbearance. She must take upon her- 
 self the entire charge of the sick room. Above all, she 
 is charged to hold sacred any knowledge of its private 
 affairs which she may acquire through her temporary 
 connection with the household. She receives a stipu- 
 lated sum for her services, but this will not always com- 
 pensate her for the annoyances with which the position 
 is occasionally beset. 
 
 The nurses at the Bellevue school may be divided into 
 two classes: those who study the art of nursing with a 
 view to gaining a livelihood or supporting their families, 
 -and. those who look forward to a life of usefulness among 
 the poor sick. All are lodged and boarded free of charge 
 ‘during the two years course, and are paid a small sum 
 monthly, while in the school, to defray their actual 
 necessary expenses, and, in order to avoid all distinction 
 between rich and poor, every nurse is expected to receive 
 this pay. The scheme adopted—that developed by Miss 
 Nightingale—demanded in the applicant a combination 
 of requisites the mere enumeration of which appalled 
 many who had been encouraged to seek admission to 
 the school. These are: Good education, strong consti- 
 tution, freedom from physical defects, including those 
 of sight and hearing, and unexceptionable references. 
 ‘The course of training consists in dressing wounds, 
 applying fomentations, bathing and care of helpless 
 patients, making beds, and managing positions. Then 
 follow the preparation and application of bandages, 
 making rollers and linings of splints. The nurse must 
 also learn how to prepare, cook, and serve delicacies for 
 
THE PROFESSION OF NURSING. 173: 
 
 the invalid. Instruction is given in the best practical 
 methods of supplying fresh air, and of warming and 
 ventilating the sick room. In order to remain through 
 the two years’ course and obtain a diploma, still more 
 is required, viz: Exemplary deportment, patience, indus- 
 try, and obedience. The first year’s experience was far 
 from satisfactory. Among seventy-three applicants, 
 hailing from the various States, only twenty-nine were 
 found that gave promise of ability to fill the conditions. 
 Of these,:ten were dismissed for various causes before 
 the expiration of the first nine months. 
 
 The ‘‘ Nurses’ Home,”’ the headquarters of the school, 
 is No. 426 East Twenty-sixth street, a large and hand- 
 some building, erected for the purpose and given to the 
 school by Mrs. W. H. Osborn. From the outside of this 
 building the tastefully arranged curtains and polished 
 panes of its several chambers present a striking contrast 
 to the somber, frowning walls of the great charity hospi- 
 tal opposite. Besides studying from text-books, and. 
 attending a systematic course of lectures, the pupils are: 
 occupied by the care of the patients in the hospital, and 
 in the general management of the wards. The nurses 
 are taught how to make accurate observations and 
 reports of symptoms for the physicians’ use, such a} 
 state of pulse, temperature, appetite, intelligence, delir. 
 ium or stupor, breathing, sleep, condition of wounds, 
 effect of diet, medicine, or stimulant. The nurses ara 
 furnished with diplomas, signed by the managers and 
 the examining board of the hospital, when they begin 
 their several careers. Some are called to superintend 
 State and city hospitals, a continually increasing num- 
 
174 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘ber seek private practice, or rather are sought by it, 
 while not a few devote themselves to the sick among 
 _ the poor. 7 
 
 .The value of the service performed by these noble 
 women can not be adequately estimated without visit- 
 ing the tenement-house district wherein it is performed. 
 ‘They lodge in a house provided for the purpose by the 
 Woman’s Branch of the City Missions, by which they 
 are supported, and are to New York what the ‘‘ District 
 Nurses’? are to London. From early morning until 
 evening they endure fatigue, heat, cold, and storm, in 
 their efforts to relieve the distressed. Neither the gruff 
 responses, nor the ingratitude of those for whom they 
 toil, have, in a single known instance, forced them to 
 cease their work. An equally zealous person, without 
 the advantages of a nurse’s training, would fail signally 
 ‘where she would succeed. For the mere attendance on 
 the invalid is not the whole of the service performed by 
 the visiting nurse. She sweeps and cleans the rooms, 
 cooks the food, does the washing, if necessary, goes 
 upon errands—in short, takes the place of the mother, 
 if she be ill.. All this has been learned at the training 
 school. Neither illness nor death itself can appall her: 
 she has served a long novitiate in nursing the one, and 
 the other has long since lost its terrors. 
 
 In addition to this field in New York City and vicin- 
 ity, there is an increasing demand throughout the coun- 
 try for experienced nurses to take charge of hospitals 
 and schools. Graduates of the Bellevue school have 
 been called to be superintendents of the nursing depart- 
 ments of the following institutions: Massachusetts Gen- 
 
THE PROFESSION OF NURSING. 175 
 
 eral Hospital; Boston City Hospital; New Haven City 
 Hospital; New York Hospital; Mt. Sinai Hospital, New. 
 York City; Brooklyn City Hospital; Cook County Hos- 
 pital, Chicago; St. Luke’s Hospital, Denver; Charity 
 Hospital, New Orleans, and the Minneapolis (Minn.) 
 Hospital 
 
 During the nine years of the Bellevue Training School 
 ‘for Nurses existence, one hundred and forty-nine pupils 
 have received diplomas, seventy-eight of whom are now 
 ‘practicing in New York City. 
 
 While Miss Nightingale’s theories are the basis of the 
 ‘Training School, its managers have found it necessary to 
 -depart from the English system in some important partic- 
 ulars. For instance, Miss Nightingale regards it as indis- 
 ‘pensable that the superintendent and the nurses should 
 ‘live within the hospital. ‘“‘Our experience is the reverse of 
 ‘this,’’ say the committee. ‘‘American women, being of a 
 sensitive, nervous organization, are at first depressed by 
 the painful aspects of hospital life, dnd, when they become 
 interested in the work, take it greatly to heart. Hence 
 ‘it is of importance to have a cheerful, comfortable home 
 where they can each day throw off the cares of their pro- 
 fession.’? To the restfulness of the Home is attributed 
 ‘the exceptional health of the nurses, among whom but 
 one death and very few dangerous illnesses have occurred 
 ‘since the opening of the school, almost ten years ago. 
 Another necessity in an American training school is the 
 abolition of caste. In England the ‘‘ ward sister’? (who 
 has received thorough training) is expected to be a lady, 
 superior in social position and intelligence to the nurses, 
 -who are drawn from the class of domestic servants. At 
 
176 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Bellevue, the preliminary examination, and the higl» 
 standard subsequently exacted, exclude, and are meant. 
 to exclude them. But among those who enter there is. 
 no distinction. All submit to the same discipline and 
 perform the same duties, none of which, being connected 
 with the sick, is considered menial. 
 
 The above article has been carefully condensed from 
 an exhaustive account of the system as practiced at 
 Bellevue, which was published by the Century Maga- 
 zine last year. Any one who has had experience with. 
 the despotic nurse of the past, the stupid, ignorant and 
 opiniated woman who, in her superannuated days, goes 
 out nursing, will bless the present innovation whereby a 
 young, strong, educated woman is placed in charge of 
 the sick patient. The new professional nurse is the doc- 
 tor’s second, and can determine in his absence what to: 
 do to save the life of a patient, and will not predict the 
 death of a sick person if a dog chances to howl in the 
 neighborhood. There could be no better profession for 
 the development of all the finest and most womanly 
 qualities, or one in which the laborer is more worthy of. 
 her hire. 
 
—s@ HAPTER XVIIIL@- 
 
 Gardening, 
 
 @ Tis a matter of surprise that so few 
 American women attempt to earn a 
 living in this way, and that a work 
 that is both pleasant and profitable 
 ‘ees i should be left almost entirely to 
 Se - oa Z the foreign born population. Every 
 housewife requires the change of occupation 
 wees which a few hours of gardening every day in 
 e: the summer would give her, and if she has no: 
 nig desire to make her work remunerative, she 
 Cas can add a greater beauty and sweetness to: 
 Y? her own life and that of her family, by fur- 
 
 nishing them with flowers which she raised. 
 +5 with her own hands, or increase the attrac-. 
 tions of her table by a variety of good, season- 
 able Peatablas during the year. She will also improve: 
 her health by the amount of out-door air and exercise: 
 the work will require. Gardening is a delightful 
 womanly occupation, cleanly and health-giving. In 
 this country the soil is easily tilled, especially in 
 prairie sections, where stones are so rare that a trav- 
 eler, in recording their scarcity, said that when his dog: 
 
 saw one he stopped and barked at it. There are many 
 12 177 
 
178 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 women to whom a garden would be of great assistance, 
 for if they possess a plat of land on which they can raise 
 ‘ flowers and vegetables, these may be made to yield them 
 a good harvest. For instance, if they live within easy 
 reach of the railway depot or junction where passengers 
 stop to partake of meals, or to change cars, they can 
 find a ready sale for small boquets, bunches of flowers 
 tastefully arranged, or button-hole favors at five or ten 
 cents each. The tired and depressed traveler would feel 
 refreshed and cheered by the bright greeting of the 
 lovely apostles of Flora, and the gardener would realize 
 a capital for her labor. There are numerous stations in 
 New England where little bare-footed boys sell small 
 bunches of arbutus and fragrant clusters of pond 
 lilies, and often realize enough money to clothe them- 
 selves in winter. 
 
 Gardening is an occupation particularly well adapted 
 to women, as it offers a healthy employment in which 
 delicacy of touch, judgment, calculation and expectation 
 are all realized without an undue amount of bodily labor. 
 Nature must be waited upon, encouraged, directed and 
 watched, to produce a full development of her powers; 
 and there is a growing tendency to elevate the work of 
 the gardener, and to present an attractive and interest- 
 ing field for woman’s skill and enterprise in this direc- 
 tion. There are many ladies who devote their time in 
 spring and summer to the cultivation of flowers and fruit 
 in the garden, and in winter take a great deal of interest 
 in their conservatories and greenhouses, in directing and 
 overseeing their gardens, or take the charge themselves, 
 and find great enjoyment, as well as health, in the occu- 
 
GARDENING. 179 
 
 pation. This pursuit surely presents many attractions 
 to those who are forced to depend upon the work of 
 their own hands for subsistence, and it would be far 
 more desirable than constant, sedentary employment 
 such as sewing. With the flowers early vegetables 
 could also be raised and sold to advantage. In the 
 vicinity of cities and towns a market for such com- 
 modities can always be found; the supply rarely exceeds 
 the demand. It has been said that flowers will grow 
 better under the kindly care of women, and a widow or 
 single lady, living alone, could invest a very small sum 
 of money in bedding out plants, annuals, vegetables, and 
 fruits, and, with the assistance of a boy of all-work, 
 make quite a tolerable support. Most women to whom 
 such a life would be agreeable and desirable, possess 
 enough strength to attend to the work of superintend- 
 ing and directing matters, and a boy could do the dig- 
 ging, weeding, and watering. In England there are 
 already hundreds of women at work in nurseries and 
 = Sreenhouses, and they do all the grafting, budding, and 
 . repotting of plants, with quite as much skill in the hand- 
 ling of them as the male operatives possess. 
 
 At the present time flowers are more sought after than 
 ever before, and if women would become more skilled in 
 fioriculture they would soon find a large field for their 
 labors. The gains of women gardeners would be of more 
 account than those of seamstresses and shop-girls. Of 
 course there is work init. I have yet to see the occupa- 
 tion that pays which does not demand head or hand 
 labor. But the work can be so arranged as to leave the 
 hottest hours of the day for rest and leisure. It is really 
 
180 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 surprising that this branch of labor has not been adopted 
 by woman for profit long ago, as so many ladies devote 
 so much of their time to it for their own gratification. 
 In Germany and Switzerland women are now taught the 
 culture of flowers as a profession, and many women are: 
 earning their living as gardeners, not only at their own 
 homes, but in the employment of others. Doubtless 
 there are many young women who would find in the 
 garden not only the natural roses which bloom there, 
 but the roses of health with which to adorn their cheeks. 
 Such an instance recurs to the memory of the writer. 
 A few years ago a young girl who appeared to be fatally 
 ill with consumption went to live with some friends in 
 the country, and amused herself in her moments of tem- 
 porary strength by playing with the children at making’ 
 garden. In a little while she found the health-giving 
 properties of air and exercise, and gradually her lungs: 
 recovered. She gained flesh, and to-day she is a robust 
 woman, and she declares that a spade was her doctor. 
 She is one of the most successful gardeners in Ohio at. 
 the present time. 
 
 A STRAWBERRY FARM. 
 
 Strawberries offer another excellent avenue to money- 
 making for women. An acre of strawberries will yield 
 from 1,200 to 2,000 quarts. The yield will never be less, 
 and it is often much more. In a fair season an acre of 
 strawberry farm will pay a net profit of from $150 to 
 $175 per acre. The first berries command a ready mar- 
 ket at $1 a quart; but at an average of ten cents a quart 
 from first to last, the farm will pay its owner hand- 
 
GARDENING. 181 
 
 somely. Twenty acres of strawberries in the State of 
 Georgia brought in $1,300 in cash to its owner, by the 
 middle of April, and at that date the season had only 
 begun, as the North is still in the embrace of winter at 
 that time. The price then was thirty cents a quart. 
 Speculators visit strawberry farms both North and South, 
 and offer a certain sum per quart for the berries on the 
 vines, which pays the owner a handsome sum without 
 the lifting of a hand. <A lady who lives ina home of 
 Juxury in Freeport, U1l., made a handsome fortune out of 
 strawberries. She kept a man to work the farm, hired 
 children to pick the berries, and took orders from com- 
 mission houses and families herself, not disdaining to 
 deliver the berries from her own carriage or wagon, both 
 of which she handled herself. In the South, strawberries 
 pay better than cotton for women to handle, and in the 
 
 North the home berry is in excellent demand when the 
 
 Southern season is over. The business is both a plea- 
 sant and remunerative one, and essentially a feminine 
 occupation. : 
 
 In regard to the labor of gardening, a forcible writer, 
 in speaking of the Dutch, Flemish, and German women, 
 who help the husbands and fathers in the field, says: 
 
 “The women positively delight in this free, active and 
 nomadic life, and one of the chief charms was the astonish- 
 ing health and strength they attained. Their limbs became 
 muscular, they had the digestion of ostriches, and aches and 
 pains were unknown to them; they, in fact, enjoyed the most 
 exquisite of all human sensations, perfect health. How many 
 American women enjoy that for even five years after they are six- 
 teen. If the labor is not excessive it is desirable. It produces 
 
182 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 the strong, hardy women who rear a stalwart race. Half the 
 fine ladies who now find a few turns on the piazza almost too 
 much for them, would be all the better for a graduated scale of 
 garden work. Beginning with a quarter of an hour a day, they 
 would find at the close of a month that they could easily do 
 their two hours, and that they ate and slept as they had never 
 done before, while they forgot that any such evils as nerves had 
 an existence.” } 
 
 WHAT ONE WOMAN DID. 
 
 Four years ago Miss Belle Clinton, of Nevada, Story 
 county, Northwestern Iowa, was a school teacher full of 
 life, health, fun, and enterprise, rosy of cheek and sturdy 
 of limb, quite too full of health and vigor to sit down 
 contentedly and day by day teach the young idea how 
 to shoot, at so much a head, so she concluded to do 
 something that would bring in more money, and at 
 the same time furnish more scope for her powers, and 
 what she did do can not be better told than in her own 
 straightforward way: 
 
 “T saved $160 from the money I earned teaching school, bor- 
 rowed a span of horses from my father, rigged up a prairie 
 schooner, and started with my little brother for Dakota. I 
 never had such a good time in my life, or such an appetite, and 
 everybody was polite and pleasant to me. I received the utmost 
 courtesy everywhere. Rough, rude men would come to our 
 camp, and after I had talked to them awhile offer to build my 
 fire, and actually bring water to me. We went up through the 
 wheat country, which they call the Jim River country. It is 
 about one hundred miles east from the Missouri Fort Sully. I 
 homesteaded one hundred and sixty acres of land. Then I took 
 up a timber claim of one hundred and twenty acres more, and 
 
yg) aa el eae lade 
 
 GARDENING. 183 
 
 with the help of a hired man set out ten acres of trees. This 
 gave me one hundred and sixty acres more, so I have three hun- 
 dred and twenty acres now. The trees were young locust and 
 apple and black walnut sprouts. I sowed a peck of locust 
 beans, a pint of apple seed, and two bushels of black walnuts in 
 our garden, in Iowaone year before. These sprouts were little 
 fellows, and we could set them out just as fast as we could get 
 them into the ground. I believe my three thousand little black 
 walnut sprouts will be worth fifteen dollars apiece in ten years, 
 and twenty dollars apiece in fifteen years. My locust trees will 
 sometime fence the whole country. 
 
 “Next we built a shanty and broke up five acres of land, and 
 in the fall we returned to Iowa to spend the winter. In the 
 spring I'll go back with more black walnut and locust sprouts, 
 and take up another claim of one hundred and sixty acres. The 
 trees are just what I wan‘ to plant anyway, and they will pay 
 better than any wheat crops that could be raised, only I must 
 wait for them ten or twelve years; but I can wait.” 
 
 Miss Clinton is a girl of twenty years, and in her own 
 right owns three hundred and twenty acres of splendid 
 black prairie soil now, and will own in the spring four 
 hundred and eighty acres, every acre of which will bring 
 five dollars within three years, and ten dollars within 
 five years, and twenty dollars within ten years. Her 
 black walnut and locust trees will be worth as much 
 more. The prospect is, that at thirty years of age this 
 young lady will be worth twenty-five thousand dollars, 
 the fruit of her own enterprise, labor, and indomitable 
 courage. What woman has done woman may do, and 
 Miss Clinton has positively illustrated the saying, ‘‘ that 
 where there’s a will there’s a way.” 
 
184 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 YOUNG WOMEN INVESTING IN LAND IN DAKOTA. 
 
 A young widow who came to Lisbon, Dakota, took a 
 pre-emption claim to 160 acres, proved up and got a title 
 to her land, then took another claim under the home- 
 stead law of 160 acres more, on which she is now living; 
 and as the possessor of 320 acres of the richest soil in 
 this country, she is, of course, considered worth a hand- 
 some fortune in her own right. 
 
 In Lisbon not a few working girls have taken up 
 claims, and intend to cultivate them by contract; prob- 
 ably any one of them could realize from $500 to $750 
 each for their land. One young lady, who is clerking in 
 one of the stores in town, is the possessor of a number of 
 town lots, in addition to several quarter sections of land. 
 The land is worth probably $25 an acre, but she came 
 
 into possession of it by taking advantage of the pre-emp- 
 tion, homestead, and tree claim laws. Her town lots 
 were bought when prices were low, from the proceeds of 
 her salary, and have now advanced to nearly ten times 
 the price she paid for them. Another young lady, who 
 took up a pre-emption claim last fall, has the satisfac- 
 tion of knowing that a railroad survey has since been 
 made across it, and it is not at all improbable that she 
 may yet become the owner of a town site worth from 
 $50,000 to $100,000. It is a very poor town site that is 
 not worth the former sum, 250 lots at $200 each making 
 that amount. A quarter section of land will make about 
 600 ordinary town lots, allowing for streets and avenues. 
 
S@CHAPTER XIX.-¢ 
 
 Raising # Poultry. 
 
 DOES POULTRY PAY ? 
 
 F proper care is taken of poultry 
 
 there is no doubt that it pays. No 
 
 i business can be made profitable 
 
 Ae & without careful attention. A great 
 
 R d many people feed their poultry 
 
 3 regularly, but neglect to give them 
 
 drink, and then say that it does not pay to . 
 
 Oe keep poultry. 
 
 ms ‘‘The best drink,’ says an author on the 
 
 SKIS «subject, ‘‘that can be furnished for hens, is 
 
 2% sour milk, and, if possible, it should always 
 
 YJ? be by them. Scraps of meat, fish skins, etc., 
 
 ® are excellent for fowls. Do not feed on clear 
 
 corn or meal, but vary their food as much as 
 
 | possible. In the summer feed once a day, but 
 
 . in the winter give them a second feed just before they 
 
 ; go to roost. Always give just what they will eat up 
 
 ; clean. Hens fed this way will lay all winter if they are 
 
 4 of the right breed. The Brown Leghorn hens will lay 
 4 all the year round. Brahmas are also excellent. 
 
 Mrs. Eliza Twynham has a flock of fourteen hens, and 
 185 
 
186 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 during last summer sold twenty-five dollars worth of 
 eggs and raised a flock of chickens. Her hens have 
 proper care, and they well repay it. This is keeping 
 poultry on a small scale, but if the lady went into the 
 business she would make it pay handsomely. The eggs 
 of fancy fowls sell at $3 a dozen for breeding purposes, 
 so that more money is realized in keeping a small num- 
 ber of a choice breed. They will require a little more 
 care, but will amply repay the trouble. The owners of 
 fancy hens often sell their eggs to neighbors at an ordi- 
 nary price—25 cents a dozen—but they first dip them in 
 boiling water to prevent inculation, should there be any 
 deception in the matter. 
 
 It is quite a curiosity to visit one of those fancy hen 
 farms, which are frequent in all the States, and often 
 kept up with great care, and even elegance. Their 
 houses are heated, ventilated, provided with all patent 
 appliances for their comfort, and kept in apple pie: 
 order. They have stairs by which they ascend to their 
 roost, and they are provided with a court yard, in which 
 they can enjoy the air and sun light. These three things 
 fowls must have, if they would thrive—air, light, and 
 exercise. They must not only be kept free from chicken 
 lice, but their flesh, if they are to be sold, must be of 
 fine quality. While the eggs of fancy fowls pay the 
 largest profit, the flesh of the ordinary yellow-legged 
 barnyard fowl can not be improved upon. Much judg- 
 ment must be used by people who sell fowls for market,. 
 if they wish to gain a reputation for their poultry. Cock- 
 erels, pullets, and fat laying hens are good marketable 
 wares, but a hen that has just thrown off a brood, or is 
 
RAISING POULTRY. 187 
 
 ready to go on a nest of eggs, is not in condition for the 
 table. Any one living near a large city can get high 
 prices for early spring chickens, a pair of them being 
 worth $1.50 in February or March, and commanding a 
 high price all the season. 
 
 MONEY IN EGGS. 
 
 The time has come when the business of egg-produc- 
 tion will take a fixed place among the food industries of 
 the country. Eggs are a healthy and nourishing substi- 
 tute for meat, and are generally cheaper in proportion to 
 their nutritive qualities. It is estimated that the annual 
 production in the United States amounts to 9,000,000, 000, 
 of which 2,500,000,000 are sent to New York. Great Brit- 
 ain imports ‘785,000,000 eggs from the continent. They 
 represent the value of 12,500,000 more, while Ireland fur- 
 nishes 500,000,000 in addition, and the home production 
 is nearly equal to the importation from the continent. 
 The business of poultry raising is a safe and pleasant. 
 one—safe in a pecuniary way, because there is a very 
 small amount of capital invested, and pleasant, because 
 it gives woman what she needs, a healthy out-door exer- 
 cise. Three dozen good common fowls will furnish the 
 stock in trade to start with, and a clean, dry, comfort- 
 able shed, with nooks and corners for them to lay in, 
 will answer as well, if not better, than a patent hen 
 house with sanded floor, where the hens go up a flight 
 of stairs to bed, and lay their eggs in nests as fine as 
 jewel boxes. Get both hens and advice from a success- 
 
 __ *ul poultry raiser, and be careful of having too fine poul- 
 
 try for the purpose of selling eggs as an article of diet. 
 
188 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 No eater can discriminate between boiled eggs at three 
 dollars a dozen and boiled eggs at twenty-five cents a 
 dozen, if both are fresh; the money lies in the breed, 
 which is a matter of fancy rather than of fact, and the 
 three dollar a dozen eggs cost fifty cents apiece to raise 
 them often, high-bred fowls being so delicate they are 
 apt to catch cold if they get their feet wet. With the 
 barnyard fowl it is a different affair; it keeps itself in 
 fine flesh by running after its grub; it has settled 
 domestic habits, and is not inclined to be sick and ail- 
 ing, and it lays a large, good looking egg that is both 
 sweet and rich. During the fall season hens that run at 
 large have the grain fields to glean from, and the flesh of 
 such fowls is superior to any cake-fed birds. There is 
 money made from the incubator, but machine raised 
 birds are inferior to the mother-hatched, and weaken as 
 they grow to maturity, and the whole business is a 
 trouble and often a serious loss, although some few are 
 successful in producing a delicate article of spring 
 chicken. It is easy to experiment in this business, 
 which can be carried on without interfering in domes- 
 tic duties or other work. The following brief sketch 
 may be of interest to those who contemplate going into 
 that branch of speculation. 
 
 TWO WOMEN IN BUSINESS. 
 
 ‘Tn the spring of 1876,’’ writes Miss Helen Wilmane, 
 “‘finding myself in a position where it was necessary to : 
 make some exertion for my own living, and being also 4 
 averse to the kind of work usually delegated to my sex, : 
 I formed a partnership with another woman whose situ- F 
 
 Ear 
 
RAISING POULTRY. 189: 
 
 ation was similar to my own, and we went into the poul- 
 try business together. 
 
 ‘‘After we had decided what we wished to do, it required 
 a vigorous looking about to find the place we wanted. 
 But we did find it on the banks of Clear Lake, well up: 
 towards the northern boundary. A farmer who occu- 
 pied a large tract of land, and had built a fine house 
 near the center of it, left his old one standing in an iso- 
 lated corner, the picture of loneliness and despair, as. 
 seen through the eyes of the rich, but a very haven of 
 rest for two tempest-tossed and homeless women such as. 
 we were. And then, too, it was on the banks of the 
 lake, a fact that made amends for many disadvantages. 
 Oh! that lake, thirty miles long and ten miles wide, dot- 
 ted with evergreen islands! It comes back to me now 
 like the memory of a lost Paradise! 
 
 Behold us, then, settled with one hundred hens, fif- 
 teen ducks, and a dozen turkeys, Mr. Worth trusted 
 us with a ton of wheat, and we were equipped. The 
 ducks took to the water, where they seemed to earn 
 their own living, as they treated our store of provisions 
 with contempt. They waddled home every night to be 
 shut up, and we found their eggs in the pen every morn- 
 ing. Wesold our hens eggs and set our hens on duck 
 eges. As we kept an account of all our transactions, I 
 will now refer to my book, which I still keep in remem- 
 brance of some of the happiest days of my life. 
 
 ‘¢T find that on March twentieth we had forty hens. 
 sitting on ten eggs each—four hundred eggs in all—with 
 seventeen young ducks hatched out. On April twen- 
 tieth we had thirty-six hens sitting on ten eggs each, 
 
190 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 three hundred and twenty-seven nice, healthy young 
 ducks. A month later we closed out the duck factory, 
 with five hundred and thirty small fry on hand. 
 
 ‘‘Nothing gives me more pleasure than to see things 
 grow—living animals more especially. Our little ducks 
 were a perpetual study to us. Many of them were indi- 
 vidualized by special characteristics, so much so that we 
 named them accordingly. I am sure we brought little 
 science to bear on our poultry raising, but we made a 
 very fair success of it. We lived comfortably and hap- 
 pily, and realized nearly three hundred dollars when we 
 sold off our surplus stock in the fall. We thought it 
 much better than taking positions in establishments not 
 our own. We were free, and we appreciated the situa- 
 tion. And then the occupation itself was full of interest. 
 Never a day passed that we did not find something to 
 jJaugh at amongst our numerous family. 
 
 ‘* We carried our poultry through another year, and 
 with still greater success. We would probably be 
 engaged in it yet but for a male biped, who, perceiving 
 how well my partner could live without him, made the 
 discovery that he could not live without her. This dis- 
 solved our partnership, and terminated a never-to-be-for- 
 gotten period of my life.”’ 
 
 _ Geese are abundantly raised in the suburbs of cities by 
 the foreign population. They are noisy birds, and must 
 be within easy reach of water. Their feathers are more 
 valuable than their flesh in this country, where the tur- 
 key is the favorite of the table. The last is a very pro- 
 fitable fowl, but difficult to raise. Eternal vigilance is 
 the price of turkeys. The young die on the slightest 
 
RAISING POULTRY. 191 
 
 ‘provocation, and the mother-bird is a very poor protec- 
 tor of ‘her young. The larger the flock the safer the 
 birds, and the more probability that the young will 
 grow to maturity. They require a good deal of food, 
 carefully prepared. Tender greens and Indian meal, 
 wet up ina mass and crumbled to them, are fattening. 
 ‘They should be June birds to be in good order at Thanks- 
 giving. They like a hot, dry season. 
 
 Pigeons, if kept in large quantities, are profitable, as 
 they are always in demand in the markets. They will 
 ‘range with the fowls at feeding time, and cost little or 
 nothing to keep. Ducks are troublesome, but they pay 
 very well for their keep. They must be raised near a 
 large pond, or they will stray off in search of water. It 
 ‘is just as well to keep all the different varieties of poul- 
 try, as one will create a market for another. But hens 
 are in demand all the year round; ducks, geese, and tur- 
 keys only at the holidays and during the winter season. 
 A woman who will make a specialty of sending choice, 
 well-dressed, dry-picked poultry to market, can not fail 
 to make a handsome profit out of her work, which is a 
 sphere of labor pre-eminently suited to her domestic 
 tastes. : 
 
 A compiler of industrial statistics has this to say con- 
 cerning poultry: 
 
 VALUE OF THE POULTRY BUSINESS. 
 
 “Every business that increases national wealth and promotes 
 individual comfort and prosperity possesses an interest to the 
 philanthropic commensurate to its importance. It is imprac- 
 ticable for census reports to fairly represent every industry. 
 Should it be done in the simple matter of poultry and eggs, the 
 
192 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 figures would astonish those who have given the subject only a. 
 1sere passing thought. Jam certain that the value and import- 
 unce of the poultry business, as a source of national wealth, has. 
 not been fully appreciated. Judging from the census reports of 
 the State of New York, I am led to believe that the actual value 
 ut poultry in the United States is scarcely realized. 
 
 “There can be but little if any less than 3,000,000 farmers’ 
 ‘amilies in the United States that keep poultry—hens simply. 
 {t is reasonable to suppose that on an average each family keeps 
 at least 10 hens, and that each hen lays 100 eggs annually. 
 This would give an aggregate of 250,000,000 dozen eggs, which, 
 at anet valuation of 10 cents a dozen to the producer, would 
 make the net proceeds to the farmers $35,000,000! Does this. 
 startle the reader ? 
 
 “In New York alone, twelve years ago, the census report set. 
 down the actual value of poultry at $3,000,000. The city of 
 Boston, according to statistics, expended for eggs in 1869 
 $2,000,000, and for poultry the same year $3,000,000, making the 
 enormous sum of $5,000,000 expended in a third-class city for 
 poultry and eggs. I have no doubt but the estimate of $25,- 
 000,000 for eggs is a low one, while that of poultry sold would 
 swell the amount of the poultry interest to more than $250,- 
 000,000. And this refers to hens alone. The additional amount. 
 in geese, turkeys, ducks, guinea fowls and pigeons I will not 
 attempt to consider.” 
 
 nannaterwen 
 
—s@HAPTER XX. 
 
 Jdze-Keeping. 
 
 SUITABLE EMPLOYMENT FOR WOMEN. 
 
 *‘ Oh! the transporting, rapturous scene, 
 That rises to our sight! 
 Sweet fields arrayed in living green, 
 _ And rivers of delight! 
 There generous bloom in all the dales 
 And mountain.sides will grow, 
 y2s> There rocks and hills, and brooks and vales 
 With milk and honey flow.” 
 
 He 
 Pag 
 
 (Co eee Pp If I follow thie wild bee home, 
 And fell with a ringing stroke 
 
 YD 
 
 sThe popular shaft of the oak, 
 
 =e What shall I taste in the comb 
 / And the honey that fills the comb? 
 
 ena. EE-KEEPING, although a laborious 
 (ee employment, demands no great out- 
 Vz & jay of strength at onetime. It embraces 
 
 it 
 <) require skill and gentleness, more than mus- 
 - cle. The hand of woman, from nature, habit, 
 “a\fi| and education, has acquired an ease of motion 
 ai which is agreeable to the sensibilities of bees, 
 and her breath is seldom obnoxious to their’ 
 olfactories, by reason of tobacco or beer. 
 Women have demonstrated that the making 
 
 a) of hives and surplus boxes is no objection, as 
 
 her Vel ajo estsl_— fel ie 7D 
 
 193 
 
 they have purchased them in the flat, nailed and painted 
 13 | 
 
194 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 them. The hiving of swarms is neither more difficult 
 nor dangerous than the washing of windows or milking. 
 The right time to extract honey, or to put on, or take off 
 surplus boxes, requires no more tact or skill to deter- 
 mine than the proper fermentation of bread, or the right 
 temperature of the oven required for baking. Woman is 
 in her allotted sphere while raising queens and nursing 
 weak colonies, or caring for the honey when off the hive. 
 
 The most powerful argument in view of the suitable- 
 ness of bee-keeping for woman is this: That it is some- 
 thing she can do at home, and not interfere with her 
 domestic duties. Many women of small means have 
 young children depending upon their exertions for sup- 
 port, and remunerative work to be performed at home 
 brings very little in the market of to-day. For instance, 
 the making of overalls at five cents a pair, and shirts at 
 fifty cents per dozen. She is compelled to accept less 
 pay than men for the same service performed. We hada 
 friend, chosen as principal of a school on account of her 
 efficiency, but who was compelled to accept lower wages . 
 than her predecessor, who was a man, and dismissed for 
 his incompetency. But we have never found a dealer 
 unscrupulous enough to offer less for a pound of honey, 
 because it was produced by a woman. 
 
 To engage in bee-keeping as a business, it is necessary 
 to understand the nature and wants of the honey-bee, 
 and a knowledge of its management. This may be 
 obtained in theory, by a study (not merely a reading) of 
 all the standard works extant, and journals devoted to 
 the science of bee culture. Add to this the practical use 
 of the knowledge obtained in some large apiary for a year 
 
2s, Selene ae ee : 
 2 age ee ‘ 
 
 BEE KEEPING. 195 
 
 or two, if possible, and then you will be prepared to look 
 for a location (as the young M. D. would say). ‘‘ Do not 
 try to build up by crowding out some one already estab- 
 lished; there is room enough for all the bee-keepers of 
 the United States for some time to come.”’ 
 
 If surplus honey be the object sought, get the very 
 best unoccupied field, if possible, where soft maple, red 
 raspberry, white clover and basswood abound, without 
 special reference to railroad facilities. If the rearing 
 and sale of superior colonies and queens be the object in 
 view, mail and railroad facilities are very important. 
 
 Thus armed and equipped as the law directs, a few 
 hundred dollars may be invested in bees, with better 
 prospect of satisfactory returns, than an equal amount 
 in almost any other direction. 
 
 There are many successful apiarists in this country 
 who are women, and their number is yearly increasing. 
 It is a healthful and delightful pursuit, and every woman 
 who engages in it, with some knowledge of the habits of 
 bees, and the method of taking care of them, will be 
 fully rewarded for her trouble by a fair measure of pecu- 
 niary success. There is no prettier sight than the long 
 rows of bee hives back of the farm house, flanked by a 
 shady orchard, and occupied by a busy community of 
 these little artistic workers, whose industry is a watch- 
 word in the ranks of humanity, and who do their work 
 by instinct so much better than many human workers do 
 theirs by the higher gift of intellect. There isso much to 
 observe about these little people that she would be a dull 
 scholar who did not find many a lesson to study and 
 remember in watching their wonderful system, their 
 
196 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 strict discipline, industry, and the exquisite delicacy of — 
 their work, their allegiance to their queen, and the 
 remarkable instincts which govern them in their busy 
 hives. Bees are no longer a primitive people. They 
 are educated now and surrounded with the energetic: 
 contrivances of civilization. 
 
 PROGRESSIVE BEE CULTURE—PAST, PRESENT, AND 
 PROSPECTIVE. 
 
 Scientific bee-culture may properly be said in this: 
 country to be confined to the last thirty years. The first 
 bees in America were imported into Pennsylvania about 
 the year 1627. We also have accounts of bees being 
 brought from England to New York and Virginia about 
 the year 1685. From that time forward they have been: 
 disseminated to every part of the United States and Can- 
 ada. Until the last twenty years all these were of the Ger- 
 man or black variety. Until 1851 they were kept in the 
 loggum, box-hive, or straw-skep. The hives were gen- 
 erally set in some out-of-the-way place, and but little 
 attention given them, except at swarming or robbing” 
 time. The weak ones were often brimstoned in the fall, 
 and the little honey they had was about the only sur- 
 plus the owner obtained. Sometimes a cap of twenty or 
 thirty pounds of white honey taken from the strongest 
 colonies was considered quite an acquisition. The man 
 who could protect himself in veil and gauntlets, envelop: 
 himself in smoke, and then approach a hive in early 
 morning, burst off the top, and cut out thirty or forty 
 pounds of honey, was considered quite a bee man. 
 
 In the year 1851, the Rev. L. L. Langstroth invented. 
 
BEE KEEPING. 197 
 
 the movable comb hive, which bears his name. About 
 the same time the Rev. Dr. Dzierzon, of Germany, alsa 
 made a similar invention in Europe. From that time 
 forward an entirely new era in bee-culture was inaugur- 
 ated, both in the Old World and the New. Discovery 
 
 after discovery in the natural history of the honey bee 
 
 was made, and as truth gradually came to the light, 
 superstition was dissipated, and instead of a ‘‘ venom- 
 tipped warrior,’’ always ready for fight, bees were found 
 susceptible of education and control, the same as other 
 farm stock. Colonies were not only increased at pleas- 
 ure by this system, but the bees were effectually guarded 
 against many of their enemies, and vast stores of white 
 honey obtained where almost none had been secured. 
 Literature upon subjects pertaining to bee-culture, for 
 the first time began to assume a respectable place. The 
 able work of Langstroth, and numerous articles from 
 his pen, as well as from Samuel Wagner, Quinby, and 
 many others, soon developed a desire for reading upon 
 this subject, which resulted in establishing the Ameri- 
 can Bee Journal, and a special department devoted to 
 bee-culture in nearly all the leading agricultural papers 
 in the United States. The number of bee papers has 
 been increased in this country in the last few years, until 
 at present we have seven, one of which is weekly. - Also, 
 such able works as the ‘‘Manual of the Apiary,” by 
 Prof. A. J. Cook; ‘‘Quinby’s New Bee-Keeping,’’ by 
 L. C. Root; ‘‘ A. B. C. ot Bee-Culture,’”’ by A. I. Root, 
 and a host of smaller works by able authors. 
 
 Many other movable comb hives, besides that of Langs. 
 ¢roth’s, have been invented, each claiming some excel 
 
198 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 lence over others, but the original invention still holds 
 its own, and is adopted by a majority of the leading 
 apiarists of America, and remains substantially as it left 
 the hands of the great inventor thirty years ago. Most 
 other hives are complicated, and have many useless. 
 appendages, defeating the very object for which they 
 were invented. They look very attractive, and work 
 nicely at a fair, or on a show table, but, with a swarm of 
 bees in them, all their movable and adjustable parts are 
 waxed firmly together, and to loosen them jars them and. 
 makes the bees hard to control. 
 
 Improvements in receptacles for nice comb honey have 
 been nearly as great as those of the hive. In place of 
 the old box cap, we now have the neat and convenient 
 prize section box with snow-white combs of honey, which 
 may be kept in virgin beauty, and free from waste almost: 
 indefinitely. The honey extractor is a long stride in pro- 
 gress, which can scarcely be realized. Its numerous ben- 
 efits, only those who have used can estimate. By it the 
 amount of honey obtained can be more than doubled, 
 and many difficulties in su cessful bee-keeping obviated, 
 while the delicious sweet, free from wax and all foreign 
 substances, presents to the eye and palate a treat not to 
 be despised. 
 
 There are in America about 3,000,000 colonies of bees,, 
 but our reports are from less than a quarter of a million, 
 or one-twelfth of the whole. If the one-twelfth that are 
 reported are a fair average f the whole, then the crop of 
 American honey for one season amounts to 120, 000, 000° 
 pounds. If we call it only one hundred millions, it is 
 worth $15,000,000.00. Surely the industry is of suffi- 
 
BEE KEEPING. 199 
 
 cient magnitude to satisfy the most enthusiastic of its 
 devotees. 
 
 There is a charming little work called ‘‘The Blessed 
 Bees,’’ written by a minister, but wholly wanting in 
 a most important quality, veracity. At least bee men 
 so regard it. I give an extract from its pages as a 
 specimen of enthusiasm on paper, and which under favor- 
 able circumstances, might have been true. The writer 
 says: 
 
 “Bee-keepers will always be of two classes. First there will 
 be those who will keep a few swarms for pleasure and profit, 
 but whose main business is something else. There are very 
 large numbers of men and women in country, village, or city, 
 who could keep a few swarms of bees, and who could derive 
 from the care of them health, recreation, and a small profit. 
 Let such get a book on bee-culture that is up with the times, 
 subscribe for a good journal devoted to bee-culture, get aswarm 
 of bees, and go to work. They will find the health and pleasure 
 that always come from an avocation that takes the mind from 
 the regular work, and they will get enough profit to pay them 
 for their time. 
 
 “The second class of bee-keepers will be those who make it 
 their principal or only business, who follow it for a livelihood. 
 There are not a few who already do this, and the number is 
 increasing every year. ‘There is at present no branch of rural 
 industry that offers better chances for success to the intelligent, 
 energetic man or woman. Begin slowly, learn the business, 
 advance surely, and soon a healthful and delightful business 
 can be built up which will give a fair income. There are now 
 in different parts of the country many who number their hives 
 by the hundred—a few who number them by the thousand. 
 
 “In the course of one year devoted to a careful practical 
 
200 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 study of bees and bee-culture, the whole business can be thor- 
 oughly learned in a general way, but there will be constant 
 experiments to make, and it is only by experience that the best 
 knowledge of the industry can be gained. ‘To follow the busi- 
 ness with success will demand the same business qualities that 
 command success in other callings. There will be much in loca- 
 tion and in favorable conditions. Eternal vigilance is the price 
 of honey as truly as it is of liberty.” | 
 
 ‘*The investment in the business was $830.81. I had 
 a clear cash gain of 360 per cent.’’ This was for seven 
 months work among the bees. His gain in stock was 
 $780. Adding the cash gain to this makes a total gain 
 of $3,776.72. There was to show for this either cash on 
 hand or bees worth more than their estimated value. 
 Bee culturists are apt to consider the story in this little 
 book romantic and not of practical worth, but it is 
 delightful reading, and there are some truths in it. 
 Professor Cook gives the gain as frequently reaching 500 
 per cent. But these are exceptional cases. The ‘‘ Blessed 
 Bees’’ is so full of enthusiasm that it helps one to make 
 an effort in that direction, and it gives the bright side in 
 the most delightful manner, as when the writer says, in 
 speaking of the product : 
 
 “T classified the honey into four grades, and named the grades 
 Apple Blossoms, White Clover, Linn, and Fall Flowers. These 
 names designated as accurately as any I could think of the exact 
 sources whence the honey was gathered, and they were attrac- 
 tive names that would call up in minds of all, visions of the 
 beautiful country in the time of apple-bloom; 
 
 ‘One boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower 
 Of mingled blossoms.’ 
 
BEE KEEPING. 201 
 
 “Of the starry carpet of green and white which in June the clover 
 spreads over hills and valleys; of the honey-dripping lindens 
 from among whose blooming branches the eager bees send 
 down a soothing murmur that lulls one like the perfume of the 
 Lotus; and of the wild forest nooks and lonely swamps, ‘and 
 brambly hill-sides that assume such gorgeous hues when golden- 
 rod and asters and coreopsis fling out their brilliant banners in 
 August and September.” 
 
 All this might be practically true, but authorities on 
 ‘bees say that the whole story existed only in the prolific 
 brain of the writer. The Bee-keeper’s Guide; or, the 
 Manual of the Apiary, by A. J. Cook, Professor of 
 Entomology at the State Agricultural College, Lansing, 
 Michigan, is a reliable and scientific work on the sub- 
 ject. It costs, bound in cloth, $1.25. There are many 
 valuable text-books, any of which can be obtained from 
 L. G. Newman, 974 West Madison street, Chicago, Il. 
 I give this gratuitous information for the benefit of 
 women who, living remote from cities, may be uncer- 
 tain where to send or whom to address. 
 
 TRAVELING BEES—A CAR LOAD OF BEES. 
 
 On Saturday a car was switched on the East Tennessee 
 & Virginia Railroad, and moved south. 
 
 It was filled with bee-hives. One hundred and forty 
 of the latest styles of bee-hives, piled systematically on 
 top of each other, and, ‘to the foreground, a philosopher 
 with his bed and board. 
 
 ‘“ Where are you going to take your bees?’ 
 
 ‘To Florida for the winter. My name is Thomas 
 McFarland Jackson, and I live in Northern Missouri. 1. 
 
202 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 have large apiaries that are forced to lie idle in the win- 
 ter. Jam going to take this car load of hives to Florida, 
 where they can get honey every day in the year. As 
 soon as the clover is out again in Northern Missouri I 
 will take them back there.”’ 
 
 ‘¢ Will it pay you to move them ?’ 
 
 ‘‘T think so. It costs me less than a dollar a hive for 
 transportation, and each hive will have from $6 to $7 
 worth of honey in it when I bring them back. That is 
 what Italian bees, I sent to Florida last year, did last | 
 winter. Only Italian bees will thrive in Florida, as the: 
 iuoths eat up the common bees.”’ 
 
 ‘¢ Will you live in the open air there?’ 
 
 ‘‘T am going to camp around with my bees. I believe: 
 { will bring back about $1,000 worth of honey in hives: 
 that would otherwise lie idle all the winter and be empty 
 in the spring.”’ 
 
 This migratory bee-keeping has been practiced from 
 ihe earliest ages. In Egypt it has been kept up for thou- 
 sands of years. Mr. T. F. Bingham, of Michigan, and 
 others have practiced it; but nearly all have abandoned 
 it, because it did not pay them. 
 
 Mr. Perrine, of Chicago, Ill., some years ago, lost sev- 
 eral thousand dollars in a similar manner. He had a. 
 floating apiary, arranged to run up the Mississippi river 
 from New Orleans, following the bloom till he was to 
 reach Minnesota; but it did not work. Too many bees: 
 were lost, and the projector is now wiser, and $10,000 
 poorer. 
 
BEE KEEPING. 203 
 
 FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS FROM ONE COLONY. 
 
 I commenced the season, about June 1, with 30 col- 
 onies, almost destitute of honey; increased to 65, in fine 
 condition for winter, and obtained 4,538 lbs. of honey 
 (807 of comb, in 2-lb. boxes, and 3,731 of extracted); I 
 have about 300 lbs. besides, stored away, and not counted 
 in my report. My best yield from one colony was 486 
 Ibs. of extracted. I think that I took enough comb 
 honey from it, not included in count, to make over 500 
 Ibs. I fed.about 3 lbs. of sugar in spring, but the bees 
 received no other help; got no increase. Time of extract- 
 ing: July 5, 42 lbs.; 15, 26 lbs.; 21, 68 lbs.; 28, 75 lbs.; 
 Aug. 24, 90 lbs.; Sept. 7, 105 lbs.; 19 and 20, 80 lbs. 
 Had I used three instead of two stories for surplus, I 
 think I could have obtained at least 600 lbs. I was 
 crowded too much with other work to attend to it as I 
 should, or I could have made a much better showing for 
 my bees. The cell producing this queen was obtained 
 from a strong colony of bees which started only this one 
 cell, during the basswood harvest. Could I have another 
 such season (which was very poor at the commence- 
 ment), and such a queen, I think that I could get 800 or 
 1,000 lbs. of honey. If cold weather kills bees (which I 
 think it often does), we may look for considerable mor- 
 tality among our pets next spring. The lowest temper- 
 ature noticed here, so far, is 35° below zero; it was 29° 
 below on Feb. 2, at sun rising; and away below every 
 morning since. My bees all answered to the roll calla 
 few days ago, and seemed in good condition. I have 
 
204 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 them in a good dry cellar, with about 5 inches of leaves 
 
 packed above most of them. 
 
 W, Co NUTS 
 Otiey, Iowa, Feb. 7, 1883. 
 
 Mrs. L. B. Baker reports, in the Bee-Keepers’ Maga- 
 zine, that in the first year she had two swarms of bees 
 which gave her a profit of $103.15, or $51.56 per swarm. 
 ‘The second year she made a profit of $59.85 per hive. 
 Mrs. John Baker, of Wyandotte, Michigan, has a few 
 hives in her beautiful, well-kept garden, which yield 
 her an annual supply of about five hundred pounds of 
 delightful honey, about half of which she sells or 
 exchanges for groceries. This lady keeps summer 
 boarders, does her own cooking, takes care of a large 
 flower garden, and finds time to devote to intellectual 
 pursuits. 
 
 Mrs. L. Harrison, of Peoria, Ill., is another bee-keeper, 
 and one who is considered an authority upon all matters 
 pertaining to the apiary. 
 
 SUPERSTITIONS ABOUT BEES. 
 
 Curious superstitions prevail in England as to the rela- 
 tion between bees and their owners. A magazine con- 
 tributor mentions several of these fancies as follows: 
 
 “ All of em dead, sir—all the thirteen. What a pity it is!” 
 
 “ What’s a pity, Mrs. ? Who’s dead ?” 
 
 “The bees, to be sure, sir. Mrs. Blank, when she buried her 
 husband, forgot to give the bees a bit of mourning, and now, 
 sir, all the bees be dead, though the hives be pretty nigh full of 
 honey. What a pity ’tis folks will be so forgetful!” 
 
BEE KEEPING. 205 
 
 The good woman continued to explain that whenever 
 the owner or part owner of a hive died, it was requisite 
 to place little bits of black stuff on the hive, otherwise 
 the bees would follow the example of their owner. Her 
 husband, who listened while this scrap of folk-lore was 
 being communicated by his wife, now added: 
 
 “My wife, sir, be always talking a lot of nonsense, sir; but 
 this about the bees is true, for I’ve seen it myself.” 
 
 This custom of putting the bees in mourning is very 
 common, and is strictly adhered to, from an appre- 
 hension of its omission being attended with fatal 
 consequences. 
 
 At Cherry-Burton, on a death in the family, a scrap 
 of black crape is applied to each hive, on the occasion of 
 the funeral, and pounded funeral biscuit, soaked in ‘wine, 
 is placed at the entrance to the hive. 
 
 ‘A neighbor of mine,’ says another writer on this 
 subject, ‘‘bought a hive of bees at the auction of the 
 goods of a farmer who had recently died. The bees 
 seemed very sickly and not likely to thrive, when my 
 neighbor’s servant bethought him that they had never 
 been put in mourning for their late master. On this he 
 got a piece of crape and tied it toa stick, which he fast- 
 ened to the hive. After this the bees recovered, and 
 when I saw them they were in a very flourishing condi- 
 tion—a result which was unhesitatingly attributed to 
 their having been put in mourning. 
 
 A singular superstition prevailed formerly in Devon- 
 shire—the custom of turning round the bee hives that 
 belonged to the deceased, if he owned any, at the 
 
206 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 moment the corpse was carried out of the house. The 
 following painful circumstance occurred at the funeral of 
 a rich old farmer. Just as the corpse was placed in the 
 hearse, and the visitors were arranged in order for the pro- 
 cession of the funeral, some one called out, ‘‘Turn the 
 bees.’? A servant, who had no knowledge of such a cus- 
 tom, instead of turning the hives round, lifted them up 
 and then laid them down on their side. The bees, thus 
 suddenly invaded, instantly attacked and fastened on the 
 visitors. It was in vain they tried to escape, for the 
 bees precipitately followed, and left their stings as 
 marks of their indignation. A general confusion took 
 place, and it was some time before the friends of the 
 deceased could be rallied together to proceed to the 
 interment. 
 
 Another old superstition was that of ringing a bell 
 when the bees swarmed, or beating on pans, ringing 
 gongs, or making a great noise, which was supposed to 
 induce them to settle. This is done in parts of Michigan 
 and the prairies of Illinois to-day, and, unlike many 
 other old customs that seem to have no meaning, it orig- 
 inated ina known law. It was a rule in Germany, that 
 when bees swarmed, if a hive left home and settled upon 
 some other place, that whoever owned the place on which 
 they alighted should become their rightful possessor. 
 This law was not available, however, if the owner of the 
 bees followed and kept them in sight all the way; but in 
 order to prove that he had done this, he was compelled, 
 as he ran, to ring a large bell, and thus make his pres- 
 ence and his rightful ownership known. 
 
BEE KEEPING. 207 
 
 People, in old times, were very ignorant of the habits 
 or workings of the bees. They were afraid of them. 
 Bee-stings were not then considered good for neuralgia, 
 nor was there any neuralgia. The colony was said to be 
 ruled by a king, whom all obeyed. The drones were 
 ‘females which laid all the eggs, and the workers were— 
 well, only stingers. In short, scarcely anything was 
 ‘known about bees, and success was attributed almost 
 entirely to luck. 
 
 Our own poet, John Greenleaf Whittier, has embodied 
 the funeral superstition in a poem, which is so charac- 
 teristically beautiful that I give it entire. 
 
 TELLING THE BEES. 
 
 Here is the place; right over the hill 
 Runs the path I took. 
 You can see the gap in the old wall still, 
 And the stepping stones in the shallow brook. 
 
 There is the house, with the gate red-barred, 
 And the poplars tall; 
 
 And the barn’s brown length and the cattle-yards, 
 And the white horns tossing above the wall. 
 
 There are the bee-hives ranged in the sun; 
 And down by the brink 
 
 Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed o’errun; 
 Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink. 
 
 A year has gone, as the tortoise goes, 
 Heavy and slow; 
 
 And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows, 
 And the same brook sings of a year ago. 
 
208 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 There ’s the same sweet clover smell in the breeze, 
 And the June sun warm 
 
 Tangles his wings of fire in the trees, 
 Setting as then over Fernside farm. 
 
 I mind me how, with a lover’s care, 
 From my Sunday coat 
 I brushed off the burs and smoothed my hair, 
 And cooled at the brook side my brow and throat. 
 
 Since we parted a month had passed, 
 To love, a year; 
 Down through the beeches I looked at last, 
 On the little red gate and the well sweep near. 
 
 I can see it all now, the slantwise rain 
 Of light through the leaves; 
 
 The sun-downs blaze on her window pane— 
 The blooms of her roses under the eaves. 
 
 Just the same as a month before— 
 The house and the trees, 
 
 The barn’s brown gable, the vine by the door; 
 Nothing changed but the hives of bees, 
 
 Before them, under the garden wall, 
 Forward and back, 
 
 Went drearily singing the chore-girl small, 
 Draping each hive with a shred of black. 
 
 Trembling I listened; the summer sun 
 Had the chill of snow, 
 
 For I knew she was telling the bees of one 
 
 - Gone on the journey we all must go. 
 
 Then I said to myself, ‘‘ My Mary weeps, 
 For the dead to-day; 
 
 Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps 
 The fret and pain of his age away.’ 
 
BEE KEEPING. 209 
 
 But her dog whined low; on the door-way sill 
 With his cane to his chin, 
 
 The old man sat, and the chore-girl still 
 Sung to the bees stealing out and in. 
 
 And the song she was singing ever since 
 In my ear sounds on— 
 ** Stay at home pretty bees, fly not hence, 
 Mistress Mary is dead and gone,” 
 
—eCHAPTER XXL& 
 
 Dressmakers sand» Dressmaking, 
 
 FLUENT and sensible writer in 
 the Bazar Dressmaker says that 
 the highest ambition of a young 
 dressmaker is to stand at the head 
 of her profession as a cutter and 
 eK fitter. Reader, if you have that 
 
 ambition, and have patience to go 
 forth, step by step, learning each lesson as 
 you go, you will be rewarded with success. 
 ' Bear in mind that Pingat and Worth, now 
 the two greatest dressmakers in the world, 
 were once as ignorant of dressmaking as 
 you are. It was by gathering up the little 
 things and binding them together that they 
 became great. 
 
 In the United States there are many who excel in 
 trimming, draping, and in giving an air of style, but 
 who are poor fitters. A want of this knowledge pre- 
 cludes the possibility of their reaching the highest posi- 
 tion in their profession. The difficulty in gaining the 
 higher art is the want of a knowledge of the lower art. 
 
 A young woman who wants to become an expert in the 
 210 
 
 DO OIC Od 
 
 x 
 
DRESSMAKERS AND DRESSMAKING. 211 
 
 art must begin at the beginning. All knowledge outside 
 ; of this is superficial, uncertain, and unsatisfactory. 
 : The question which every young woman is likely to 
 a ask herself is this: ‘‘ How shall I excel as a cutter and 
 E | fitter?’ To the mass of dressmakers, and especially to 
 4 those who are about to start in the business, no theme 
 an be of deeper interest than this. Hundreds of young 
 women long, with an intense anxiety, to learn the art of 
 Y cutting and fitting thoroughly. 
 s Now, it is an actual fact, that, as a rule, dress- 
 ___ makers are deplorably ignorant of even the first princi- 
 ples of their profession. The people are beginning to 
 _ open their eyes to this fact, and schools for dressmaking 
 are now established in various parts of the country. But 
 if is not convenient to take long journeys, or spend a 
 season, at great expense, away from home, in order to 
 learn the art, if it can as readily be learned from text- 
 books at home. It has been a favorite boast with the 
 average dressmaker that she never served an apprentice- 
 ship at the business, but ‘‘ picked it up,’’? a fact patent 
 to all of her customers. Ladies are tired of this slip- 
 shod way of having their dresses made, and now that 
 every second family in a village goes abroad, something 
 after the French style of fitting and making is demanded. 
 American ladies use rich goods. The wife and daughters 
 of a tradesman dress in silks and satins every day, and 
 the American woman has a good figure when it is not 
 distorted by a wretchedly fitting dress. So the village 
 seamstress may as well awaken to the fact that she must 
 take a preparatory course of instruction before putting 
 
212 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 her shears into the rich materials now used in even plain 
 outfits. 
 
 If she is not obstinately and blindly wedded to her 
 native ignorance, and prejudiced, she will soon learn the 
 few simple but also perfect and absolute rules which 
 govern the whole business, and find that when she has 
 once mastered them it will be absolutely impossible to 
 make a mistake. In these days of progress, when a new 
 creed is formulated, there is room left for amendments. 
 So in the simplest designs of use in our everyday work 
 we need to leave a margin for improvements. Each year 
 will change the cut of a sleeve, the length of a waist, the 
 slope of a shoulder—it may be only an inch—but as some: 
 one has wittily said, an inch taken from or added to the 
 length of a nose would make a vast difference to the 
 other features, The old-time seamstress who went round 
 spring and fall into country homes, carried her patterns. 
 with her, and they served for years in the same families, 
 the difference being a seam folded in or let out. It is 
 estimated that there are seven thousand dressmakers 
 in the City of New York, exclusively engaged in 
 making ladies’ and children’s dresses. This includes. 
 two hundred and seventy men dressmakers. The wages 
 rate from four dollars to sixty dollars per week. The 
 price is graded according to ability. In one establish- 
 ment in New York there are sixty men dressmakers: 
 employed. The average wages are thirty-one dollars a 
 week. Some make as high as fifty dollars per week. 
 In all large cities, and especially in the City of New 
 York, there is a constant demand for good fitters, at 
 salaries ranging from fifteen to forty dollars per week.. 
 
DRESSMAKERS AND DRESSMAKING. 913 
 
 ef 2 > 
 Nip a De es 
 ~ . Pfs he 
 
 There are hundreds of young women throughout the 
 country who have the taste and the talent to fill such ¢ 
 situation. All they want is opportunity and a knowl 
 edge of the laws which govern the art of dressmaking. 
 Every dressmaker should be able to conscientiously 
 answer yes to the following questions before she applies 
 for a responsible position : 
 
 eee eg Ne eet eee, ee, 
 st ay os, = =a = =.s ae 
 
 THE DRESSMAKERS’ QUESTION CHART. 
 
 E~ 1. Do I understand the art of cutting and fitting, and 
 4 am I able, without delay or fault, to make a dress and 
 send it home complete, without refitting or trying on? 
 2. Do I understand the English system of drafting or 
 cutting by rule—that is, am I able to take the measure, 
 and with the same inch tape cut the garment just as the 
 tailor would cut a coat ? 
 3. Am I able to fit as the French fit—that is, can I 
 take the measure or impression, as the French call it, 
 just the same as the glovemaker takes the measure or 
 impression of the hand, and from this cut and make a 
 dress, without refitting, and feel assured that the cus- 
 tomer will be pleased with the fit of the dress ? 
 4, Can I make my own models and cut my own pat- 
 terns without the aid of charts or machine of any kind ? 
 Can I reproduce patterns or styles from any book ? 
 _ 9. Do I understand the art of basting? Do I know 
 _ that without this knowledge it is impossible to make a 
 perfect fitting dress; that each seam requires different 
 treatment; that some have to be stretched, while others 
 ; are held full; that the lining, too, should be basted so 
 eS as to yield to the pressure of the body; that some parts 
 
914 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 must be quite loose on the material, while other parts 
 must be tight? Do I know that without this knowledge 
 I can not excel as a fitter ? 
 
 These are the qualifications necessary to ensure suc- 
 cess. It is evident from the badly fitting dresses every- 
 where to be seen, that all dressmakers have not these’ 
 accomplishments. The first essential in the education of 
 a dressmaker is basting; the next of importance is cutting 
 and fitting. The majority of dressmakers are poor bast- 
 ers, consequently poor fitters. In order to get this 
 knowledge it is necessary to begin at the beginning, and 
 this is the reason there are so many poor fitters and. 
 unsuccessful dressmakers. They do not begin aright;. 
 their knowledge is superficial, uncertain, and unsatisfac- 
 tory. Any young woman with taste, no matter what her 
 station in life may be, if she is a good plain sewer and 
 baster, with an honest pride in taking care of herself, 
 can learn the French system at her own home in less. 
 than three months. An experienced dressmaker cam 
 learn the system in a few hours. 
 
 We are not in the least interested, financially or other- 
 wise, in the introduction of this system, but believe it to: 
 be the best now in use. It was introduced in Paris in 
 the year 1868, and there confined to a few first-class 
 dressmakers. It is now in general use by the best dress- 
 makers in Europe and America. The question is fre- 
 quently asked, ‘‘Can the work be done?’ If those who 
 ask the question have never seen Paris-made dresses, 
 they can form but little idea of the art of dressmaking, 
 or to what perfection the business has been brought by 
 the use of this system. A few years ago it was consid- 
 
DRESSMAKERS AND DRESSMAKING 215 
 
 ered a good day’s work to fit six dresses, and then they 
 had all to be refitted. With the French system four 
 times the amount of work can be done, as compared with 
 other systems. It is no uncommon thing for the head 
 fitter in one of the large establishments in New York to 
 fit thirty ladies in a day. The French system can be 
 learned in a very short time from the printed book of 
 directions. * 
 
 PLAIN SEWING. 
 
 How many women are there who can make a beautiful 
 button-hole ? How many who can do fine and elegant 
 
 needle work, as it used to be done before the era of sew- 
 
 ing machines? It is next to impossible to find such an 
 one who takes in sewing. There are a few, and their 
 work is monopolized by the happy families who discov- 
 ered them. They are never idle. The average seam- 
 stress makes everything on a crazy machine that runs off 
 the track persistently, and what she finishes with the 
 needle is an awful alternative. There are but very few 
 women who are so proficient that they can begin and 
 finish a garment without making a single mistake. To 
 accomplish fine needlework is not only an art, but one 
 which may at any time be turned to account in a pecu- 
 niary way, as expert needlewomen are constantly in 
 
 demand. Hand sewing is still considered superior to 
 
 machine work, and the goods sold in the Ladies’ 
 
 *The complete book, ‘‘The French System of Cutting and Fitting,” is 
 $7. The abridged edition, which contains all the most important rules for 
 a beginner, is $1.50, with 25 cents extra for postage, if ordered by mail. It 
 can be obtained through any reliable book dealer. 
 
216 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Exchange, and in some of the best stores in the large 
 cities, are of fine needle work. There are several stores 
 in New York devoted to the sale of ready-made under- 
 wear, all of which is done by hand, and the prices are 
 proportionately high. So difficult has it been to obtain 
 these goods that large orders have been sent to convents 
 to be filled by the sisters and their pupils. The old style 
 of hemming, over-seaming, felling and gathering can not 
 be improved upon, and many old ladies are doing this 
 rare work, and keeping themselves comfortable in their 
 old age. Girls are not as healthy to-day, with their idle 
 hours out of school, their music and other accomplish- 
 ments, as they were in the old times, when they were 
 obliged to do a stint every day. 
 
 In regard to sewing as a method of earning a liveli. 
 hood, she who excels in producing a finished garment 
 will find a steady market for her labor. Some ladies 
 who live quietly at home spend much of their spare time 
 in filling orders for bridal outfits, infants’ wardrobes, and 
 children’s clothes, making a specialty of white goods. 
 Others make shirts only, and are besieged with orders, 
 one customer recommending another. It is often 
 remarked of some woman who is engaged in dress- 
 making or plain sewing, that she has no sign over her 
 door or in the window. The secret of this is that the 
 successful modiste has no need to advertise, her work 
 speaks for her, and people are only too glad to employ 
 skilled labor. 
 
 A little boy who had heard his mother wish a great 
 many times that her sewing was done, was walking out 
 with her one day and suddenly exclaimed: ‘‘ Look, 
 
DRESSMAKERS AND DRESSMAKING. 217 
 
 Jook, mamma! there is one woman who has all her sew- 
 ing done.”’ 
 
 He had discovered a sign which said, ‘‘Sewing done 
 here.”’ 
 
 A French authority takes a lofty view of the dress- 
 makers’ vocation. She must have the artist’s eye to 
 judge of the effects of color, the sculptor’s faculty for 
 form, that she may soften the outlines, turn the figure to 
 the best advantage, and arrange the drapery in harmoni- 
 ous folds. She must know history in order to take from 
 different epochs particular details suitable to various 
 styles of beauty, and to be sure of making no mistake in 
 the matter of accessories; and she must be a poet, to 
 give grace and expression and character to the costumes. 
 
 THE ETIQUETTE OF DRESSMAKING. | 
 
 I presume there are three dressmakers out of every 
 twenty-five who present the appearance and manners of 
 ladies to their customers. The dressmaker we most fre- 
 quently meet with, even in the highest grades of the pro- 
 fession, is a dilapidated looking woman, dressed hap- 
 hazard in a cheap, ill-fitting costume, who has nothing 
 in her own appearance to suggest a single idea of what 
 her work is. Instead of being interested in her custom- 
 ers’ wants, she begins a doleful story of how one girl is 
 sick and another has left her in the middle of the season, 
 without giving warning, or relate her own domestic trou- 
 bles, or the remissness of some of her customers. When 
 she finally gives her attention she brings in an armful of 
 French fashion papers, and asks the customer to select 
 
 something, instead of selecting and suggesting the styles 
 
218 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 herself, and the lady, who wants her new dress stylishly 
 and fashionably made, goes away with no idea of what 
 it is to be, and with no confidence that the dressmaker 
 knows any more about it than she does. 
 
 Whatever is worth doing is worth doing well. The 
 dressmaker demands a compensation for her work that 
 is not always commensurate with its value. The mak- 
 ing of even an ordinary dress is equal in expense to the 
 cost of the material, and should add correspondingly to 
 its value. It is not the mere cutting and stitching of the 
 cloth into a garment that is required—the family seam- 
 stress could do that, or a woman hired to sew by the day 
 —but it is expected to result in an artistic and becoming 
 costume—the effect of taste, skill, and experience com- 
 bined. Anything else is a fraudulent imposition on the 
 confidence of employers. 
 
 The woman, then, who would succeed, must work con- 
 scientiously, be just in small as well as large dealings,. 
 and endeavor to inspire confidence in those who would 
 employ her, by wearing the attractive products of her 
 own skill, and surrounding herself with the tokens of 
 her success. And, above all, let her keep her domestic 
 troubles and the wrangles of her workroom out of sight, 
 and as separate from her business life, as she would the 
 bread and butter of the nursery from her customers’ silks 
 and satins. 
 
 BROIDERY-W ORK 
 # By Marcarer J. PRESTON 
 Beneath the desert’s rim went down the sun 
 And from their tent-doors, all their service done, 
 Came forth the Hebrew women, one by one. 
 
DRESSMAKERS AND DRESSMAKING. 
 
 For Bezaleel, the master,—who had rare 
 And curious skill, and gifts beyond compare, 
 Greater than old Misraim’s greatest were,— 
 
 Had bidden them approach at his command, 
 As on a goat-skin, spread upon the sand, 
 He sate, and saw them grouped on every hand. 
 
 And soon, as came to pass, a silence fell; 
 He spake, and said: ‘‘ Daughters of Israel, 
 I bring a word; I pray ye hearken well. 
 
 ** God’s tabernacle, by His pattern made, 
  $hall fail of finish, though in order laid, 
 Unless ye women lift your hands to aid!” 
 
 A murmur ran the crouched assembly through. 
 As each her veil about her closely drew— 
 ** We are but women! What can women do?” 
 
 And Bezaleel made answer: ‘‘ Not a man 
 Of all our tribes, from Judah unto Dan, 
 Can do the thing that just ye women can! 
 
 *‘ The gold and broidered work about the hem 
 Of the priest’s robes,—pomegranate knop and stem,— 
 Man’s clumsy fingers can not compass them. 
 
 ‘‘ The sanctuary curtains, that must wreathen be 
 And bossed with cherubim,—the colors three, 
 Blue, purple, scarlet,—who can twine but ye ? 
 
 ‘*¢ Yours is the very skill for which I call; 
 So bring your cunning needlework, though small © 
 Your gifts may seem: the Lord hath need of all!” 
 
 O Christian women! for the temples set 
 Throughout earth’s desert lands,—do yey forget 
 The sanctuary curtains need your broidery yet? 
 
 219 
 
“CHAPTER XXILe 
 
 The» Housekeeper, 
 
 ‘ SKS = O high or noble position was ever attained 
 aN iw without taking up and bravely bearing 
 
 some cross. No path ever led to that 
 which was worth honest labor without 
 some thorns. No woman can build a 
 most precious home who does not well 
 understand that she must, for the crown 
 that is set before her, cheerfully accept much 
 labor, suffering and self-sacrifice.—LMrs. Henry 
 Ward Beecher. 
 
 Ml 
 ~ Dyas’ 
 Rees 
 
 Pa 
 
 “3 ee é Ee, 
 eines D | Ulneee’ 
 
 It is in the natural condition of things 
 that all women should be housekeepers, 
 whether they ever keep house or not, and 
 
 wal We in order to be successful in administering 
 Sya/ the affairs of the kingdom of home, every 
 yr young girl should, if possible, learn the 
 
 practical routine of housework, performing with her own 
 hands the various duties which pertain to it. This need 
 not interrupt her studies or her attendance at day school, 
 or interfere with the acquirement of some trade or pro- 
 fession, but can be taken up as a means of exercise, or at 
 times when she is not studying or employed at other 
 work. There are in all girls’ lives some years of waiting, 
 
THE HOUSEKEEPER. 99 | 
 
 which can be profitably employed in learning to make 
 home comfortable. That is the great incentive; it is not 
 the mere handling of a lot of senseless pots and pans, the 
 washing of greasy dishes, the sweeping of dusty rooms. 
 It is a labor of love for dear ones dependent upon us; it 
 is even more a form of religion, for labor is worship. 
 
 ‘* Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us; 
 Rest from all petty vexations that meet us; 
 Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us; 
 
 Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill.” 
 
 No woman need ask for a happier task than that of 
 administering to the wants of those she loves; but it 
 requires education, adaptation, and natural tact to fill 
 the position with satisfaction to herself and others. 
 Housekeeping can be raised to a science, or reduced to 
 a mere menial occupation. A poor housekeeper will 
 take a great many unnecessary steps, which do not 
 accomplish anything; she does not understand the art 
 of labor-saving. We are all acquainted with families 
 where the work is never done; the members do not seem 
 to be idle, but, instead of driving the work, it is forever 
 driving them. On the other side, we can recall house- 
 holds where there never seems to be any work to do. 
 With an equal number of members, and as many duties 
 to be attended to, there is no hurry or worry going on. - 
 The rooms are always swept and dusted, the dishes 
 washed, the pots and pans scoured bright, and the 
 ladies of the family seem to have plenty of leisure, 
 and this, too, where no domestic is kept, or, at the 
 most, a small assistant, to fetch and carry. The secret 
 
222 
 
 When a USS. was once commended for his fine s n- 
 sets, he was asked what he mixed his colors with, and. his 
 answer was, ‘‘ With brains, sir.’ 
 
 A writer upon this subject has lately shown that many 
 of the ills and diseases prevalent among women in our 
 day are no doubt traceable to the sedentary mode of fen : 
 so common among them. The progress of modern indus- 
 trial art has done away with much of the household © et 
 drudgery to which women were formerly subjected, and ee % 
 the result is, in too many cases, want of sufficient occu- | 
 pation for needed bodily exercise. The fruits of this 
 state of things are strikingly exhibited in certain obser- 
 vations made by the late Mr. Robertson, a Manchester _ 
 surgeon, who found that in women who themselves per- 
 formed all their household work, there was no trace of — : 
 certain complaints; that these complaints begin to make — 
 their appearance in women with one servant, become ~ 
 more pronounced in women with two servants, or hee 
 still with those who have three servants, and soon. He 
 showed statistically that the deaths from child-birth were eo 
 four times greater in the case of women with four ser- | 
 vants than those with none. | 
 
 There must be many. things taken into éondem L 
 however, by the woman who does her own housework. 
 and wishes to preserve her health. There is no economy : 
 in doing without a servant at the expense of doctors’ 
 bills and nurses’ charges. It is better to do without silk a 
 dresses and other luxuries which are obtained at that 
 
 wi 
 
i el A 
 
 THE HOUSEKEEPER. 923 
 
 _ sacrifice. There should always be some help in the fam- 
 ily, if possible—a pair of strong arms to do the rough 
 ‘work and save steps, and to be in the kitchen when the 
 mistress of the house is attending to her duties else- 
 where. In describing a household, where there is no 
 servant kept, we are presuming that there are several 
 ladies in the family to assist each other. A wife who 
 keeps up her position as mistress of her home, does the 
 _ kitchen work, presides at table, and entertains as hos- 
 tess, receives and returns calls, and possibly takes care of 
 her children, is doing too much, and must eventually 
 _ break down under the strain, and become a peevish, dis- 
 
 Satisfied, faded woman, whom it is a trial to live with. 
 In'such a case it would be infinitely preferable for the 
 _ wife to earn the money to pay a girl with, in some pro- 
 _  fession adapted to her strength and tastes. It must be 
 _ remembered, too, that this accumulation of service is a 
 labor of love. As a general thing the wife does not 
 __ receive any pecuniary compensation which she can call 
 her own. 
 
 UNPAID WORKERS. 
 
 . A little boy on his way to build fires in an office, while 
 7 _ the stars were still in the sky, told the writer: ‘My 
 _ mother gets up, builds the fire, gets my breakfast and 
 _ sends me off. Then she gets my father up and gives 
 
 him his breakfast, and sends him off. Then she gives 
 ' the other children their breakfast, and sends them off to 
 svhool; and then she and the baby have their breakfast.”’ 
 
 ‘How old is the baby,”’ I asked ? 
 
 ‘Oh, she is most two; but she can talk and walk as 
 -well as any of us.”’ 
 
994. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘*Are you well paid for your work ?’ 
 
 ‘‘T get $2 a week, and father gets $2 a day.”’ 
 
 ‘How much does your mother get ?’ 
 
 With a bewildered look he answered: 
 
 ‘“Mother? Why, she don’t work for anybody.”’ 
 
 ‘*T thought you said she worked for all of you ?’ 
 
 ‘*Oh, yes; she works for us, but there aint any money 
 in it.” 
 
 This wife of a day laborer represents a large class of 
 women who work hard. The compensations of affec- 
 tion, the love of husband and children, and the name- 
 less and numberless blessings that come with and belong 
 to the family life, can no more make up to a wife the: 
 loss of all money value for her services than they would 
 to her husband, if the same poverty of position were 
 thrust upon him. 
 
 The same picture is represented by another child. 
 This time a little girl was asked if her mother’s hair 
 wasn’t beginning to turn gray on the top of her heads. 
 the child answered innocently that she did not know, 
 her mother was too tall for her to see the top of her 
 head, and she never got time to sit down! It is to be 
 hoped that at the end of every year she found herself in. 
 possession of a sum of money for which she was not 
 obliged to render any account—money, the use of which 
 would be sweetened by the honorable toil that won it. 
 And just here I would say that while I would advocate- 
 no sordid service in the family, I do think that toil, 
 without recompense, is as husks to the soul. The chil- 
 dren may have enough to eat and drink and wear, but 
 let them have a little spending money, to earn which. 
 
THE HOUSEKEEPER. 995 
 
 they may run errands, sew on patches, or do any little 
 service that has not the interest of a great deed. It will 
 encourage them to do their work well, and teach them 
 the value of labor. 
 
 KEEP AN ACCOUNT. 
 
 The faithful mistress of a household will soon learn 
 the necessity of keeping strict account, year by year, of 
 the expenses involved in housekeeping, even to the soap, 
 matches, tacks, brooms, pails, etc., which a reckless or 
 incompetent girl will waste and destroy; also the cur- 
 rent expenses of food. 
 
 “‘ The butcher, the baker, 
 i. The candlestick maker,” 
 
 will charge exorbitantly if left to themselves; at least 
 their patrons always think so, when their bills are pre- 
 sented at the end of a month. ‘‘ What!’ says the aston- 
 ished housekeeper, ‘‘ ninety cents for beefsteak; I never 
 had any such amount at one time.”’ 
 Now she refers to her itemized account book, and finds 
 out that on that day she had baked fish, and no beef- 
 steak; it is an error of the butcher, and she does not pay 
 for his mistakes. So with all other expenditures. She 
 has heard that a thriftless wife can throw out of the back 
 door, with a spoon, all that her husband can bring in 
 _ the front door on a shovel, and she is determined to be: 
 -— prudent and vigilant. She has a list of all articles in 
 a use down in her book—bed linen, table linen, towels, 
 rollers, dusters, dish cloths, lamp cloths, and all culin- 
 Be ary utensils. Her damask towels do not masquerade in 
 
226 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 the kitchen as dish wipers. The cat does not break her 
 dishes or eat cold joints; and the servants of such a mis- 
 tress must respect and conform to her style of manage- 
 ment; otherwise they part company. 
 
 In looking over account books, it is easy to see where 
 useless expenditures can be avoided in future, or a more 
 economical method be instituted. The very fact of such 
 a system of domestic book-keeping existing will ensure 
 faithful attention to all the minor details, which, in the 
 ageregate, amount to so much, and involve human hap- 
 piness, as well as dollars and cents. 
 
 The following lines were written by one of the daugh- 
 ters of the late Lucretia Mott, the venerable and beloved 
 Quaker teacher who, for more than half a century, 
 labored as an active philanthropist, and a minister of 
 the Society of Friends. That she belonged to a family 
 of workers is evident from the ‘‘ regulations,’’ where 
 even the aged grandmother is expected to sew and knit, 
 make three beds daily, and ‘‘do the agreeable”’ for all. 
 As a glimpse of the domestic life of a woman whose 
 whole life was spent in the service of humanity, it is 
 of interest to the public. The third verse details the 
 mother’s duties ‘‘ when she’s at home:”’ 
 
 RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 Our grandmamma shall stately sit, 
 
 And, as it suits her, sew or knit; 
 
 Make her own bed—one for our mother, - 
 And also one for Tom, our brother; 
 
 And when our aunt and cousins call, 
 
 Do the agreeable for all; 
 
 And sundry little matters tell, 
 
 In style that has no parallel. 
 
THE HOUSEKEEPER. 227 
 
 Our father, daily at his store, 
 
 His work shall do, and when ’tis o’er 
 Return, behind him casting care; 
 
 And seated in his rocking chair, 
 
 With slippers on and lamp at hand, 
 Will read the news from every land. 
 Then quietly will take a book, 
 
 From which he’ll sometimes slyly look, 
 And list to what the young.folks say, 
 Or haply join them in their play. 
 
 Our mother’s charge, when she’s at home, 
 Shall be, bath, store, and dining-room. 
 Morning and night she’ll wash the delf, 
 And place it neatly on the shelf. 
 
 To her own room she will attend, 
 
 And all the stockings she will mend; 
 Assist the girls on washing day, 
 
 And put the ironed clothes away; 
 
 And have a general oversight 
 
 Of things, to see that all goes right, 
 
 Thrice every week shall Edward go, 
 
 Through sun and rain, through frost and snow, 
 And, what the market can afford, 
 
 Bring home to grace our festal board; 
 
 Shall bring in coal, the fire to cover, 
 
 An go to bed when that is over. 
 
 Anna the lamps shall daily fill, 
 
 And wash the tumblers if she will; 
 
 Shall sweep her room and make beds, too— 
 One for herself, and one for Sue. 
 
 Make starch, and starch the ruffles, caps, 
 Collars and shirts, and other traps; 
 
 Sweep all the entries and the stairs, 
 
 And, added to these trifling cares, 
 
 Shall, as our mother sometimes goes 
 
 On little journeys, as she does, 
 
228 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Assume her duties, and shall try 
 If she can not her place supply. 
 
 Thomas shall close the house at night, 
 
 And see that all is safe and right. 
 
 When snow falls, paths make in the yard; | 
 He can not call that labor hard. 
 
 Wait on the girls when’er they go 
 
 To lectures, unless other beau 
 
 Should chance his services to proffer, 
 
 And they should choose to accept the offer. 
 
 Our cousin and our sister Lizzie 
 
 Shall part of every day be busy. 
 
 Their own room they shall put in trim, 
 And keep our brother’s neat for him. 
 
 The parlors they must take in care, 
 
 And keep all things in order there; 
 
 Must sweep and dust, and wash the glasses, 
 But leave for Anna all the brasses, 
 
 On wash-day set the dinner table, 
 
 And help fold clothes when they are able. 
 Shall lend their aid in ironing, too, 
 
 And aught else they incline to do; 
 
 And then, when they have done their share 
 Of work, if they have time to spare, 
 
 Assist their tousin A. C. T., 
 
 *Till she’s their cousin, A. C. B. 
 
 Dear little Sue shall be the runner, 
 Because our Patty, blessings on her, 
 To boarding-school has gone away, 
 Until bright spring returns to stay. 
 Her tireless kindness won each heart, 
 And we were grieved with her to part, 
 But in this case found ease from pain, 
 That our great loss was her great gain. 
 
THE HOUSEKEEPER. 229 
 
 Sarah shall in the kitchen be, 
 Preparing breakfast, dinner, tea, 
 And keeping free from dust the closets, 
 Where flour, etcetra, she deposits. 
 Anna shall on the table wait, 
 i Attend the doors, see. to the gate; 
 Clean the front steps and pavement too, 
 And many other things she’ll do 
 That all may in such order be, 
 As each one of us likes to see. 
 Thus all their duty may fulfill, 
 And if ’tis done with cheerful will, 
 A sure reward to us will come, 
 In finding a most happy home. 
 Anna Mott Hopper. 
 
 One is reminded, upon reading the poem, of the old 
 adage, ‘‘Many hands make light work.’’ I commend 
 the regulations to the careful perusal of young house- 
 keepers. They will find much to encourage and improve 
 them in these simple verses breathing of home and its 
 4 pleasant domestic duties. 
 
 J The Rev Henry Hudson, the well-known Shake- 
 
 cation of women: ‘‘ As for women, let it suffice that : 
 their rights and interests in this matter are co-ordinate — 
 with those of men; just that, and no more. Their main 
 business, also, is to get an honest living, and the edu- 
 cation that impairs them, or leaves them unprepared for 
 this, is the height and folly of wrong. The greatest 
 institution in the world is the family. The greatest art 
 known among men is housekeeping, which is the life of 
 the family. Housekeeping is the last thing that any 
 lady can afford to be ignorant of.” 
 
 spearean scholar and author, says, regarding the edu- © 
 
230 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 WOMAN’S INVISIBLE WORK 
 
 Home means so much in this nineteenth century. It 
 means all that makes life really worth the living. It 
 means comfort, affection, sympathy, confidence, conso- 
 lation, encouragement, rest,-and peace. It is the object 
 to which all unselfish endeavor is directed. It means 
 the solitary spot in the desert of the world where all 
 these principles and virtues taught us in infancy pre- 
 serve their truthful, queen-like date-palms. It means 
 one single link in the great chain of ethical knowledge, 
 reaching out of the twilight of the past into the sun- 
 gold of the future, preserving unbroken for genera- 
 tions to come the lessons of honor, affection, strong 
 purpose, handed down to us through untold myriads of 
 years. 
 
 When the head of the family returns home at night, 
 after a weary day’s endeavor, he is at once wrapped 
 in a familiar atmosphere of comfort. There is a place 
 for everything, and everything in its place—easy chairs 
 offer themselves, sofas invite, fires shine clear, pictures 
 smile, slippers line the tired feet, while the cozily spread 
 social table offers a renewal of strength, and the closed 
 blinds and zealous doors shut out even the noises of the 
 outside world. All is bright, clear, warm, happy, and 
 it is all woman’s invisible work. It was she who 
 arranged everything, brightened everything, placed 
 necessary things ready to hand, and removed useless 
 ones. The man of the house never saw her do these 
 things—never will see her dothem. He is always absent 
 when the household elves are busy. He is content with- 
 
THE HOUSEKEEPER. 231 
 
 out knowing why—without a thought of the thoughtful- 
 ness and constant labor required for his comfort. 
 
 But the day sometimes dawns when the invisible 
 worker must cease to work. It is only then that her 
 imperceptible labor is fully comprehended. Somehow 
 every inanimate object rebels now that she is absent; 
 nothing remains in place; bright things grow strangely 
 dull; handy things are missing; locks get out of order; 
 windows refuse to exclude the cold; noises will not be 
 shut out; curtains will not obey the hand; familiar com- 
 forts flee away; the house becomes inexplicably void, 
 and cold and dead; there is an aspect of ruin through all 
 its riches; it lived before; it breathed; it spoke in a 
 peculiar, pleasant, dumb way. Now its life has utterly 
 departed from it; then does the invisible work make 
 itself visible. But the gentle worker, being weary at last, 
 has found a new home with that All-Comforter, whose 
 palaces eternally silent, immeasurably vast, open their 
 doors to guests only who may never depart. 
 
 WHY NOT SAVE MOTHER. 
 
 The farmer sat in his easy chair, 
 Between the fire and the lamplight’s glare, 
 His face was ruddy and full and fair, 
 
 His three small boys in the chimney nook 
 Conned the lines of a picture book. 
 
 His wife, the pride of his home and heart 
 Baked the biscuit and made the tart— 
 Laid the table and steeped the tea— 
 Deftly, swiftly, and silently; 
 
 Tired and weary, weak and faint, 
 
 She bore her trials without complaint, 
 Like many another household saint— 
 
232 
 
 a 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Content, all selfish bliss above 
 In the patient ministry of love. 
 
 At last, between the clouds of smoke 
 That wreathed his lips, the farmer spoke: 
 There’s taxes to raise and inter’st to pay, 
 And if there should come a rainy day 
 "T would be mighty handy, I’m bound to say, 
 T’ have something put by. For folks must die 
 Ax there’s funeral bills and gravestones to buy 
 Enough to swamp a man, purty nigh; 
 Besides, there’s Edward an’ Dick an’ Joe 
 To be provided for when we go. 
 So, if I were you, I’ll tell you what I’d du; 
 I'd be savin’ of wood as ever I could— 
 Extra fires don’t do any good: 
 I'd be savin’ of soap, and savin’ of ile, 
 And run up some candles once in a while;. 
 Td rather be sparin’ of coffee and tea, 
 
 For sugar is high, 
 
 An’ all to buy, 
 And cider is good enough drink for me; 
 I'd be kind o’ careful about my clo’es 
 And look out sharp how the money goes— 
 Gewgaws is useless, nater knows; 
 
 Extra trimmin’ 
 
 ’s the bane of women. 
 I’d sell the best of my cheese and honey, 
 An’ eggs is as good, nigh ’bout as the money; 
 An’ as tu the carpet you wanted new— 
 I guess we can make the old one du; 
 And as for th’ washer, and sewin’ machine, 
 Them smooth-tongued agents, so pesky mean, 
 You’d better get rid of ’em slick and clean. 
 What do they know ’bout women’s work. 
 Do they calkilate women was made to shirk?” 
 
THE HOUSEKEEPER, 
 
 Dick and Edward and little Joe 
 Sat in the corner in a row 
 They saw the patient mother go 
 On ceaseless errands to and fro; 
 They saw that her form was bent and thin, 
 Her temples grey, her cheeks sunk in; 
 They saw the quiver of lip and chin— 
 And then, with a wrath he could not smother, 
 Outspoke the youngest, frailest brother: 
 
 ** You talk of savin’ wood an’ ile 
 
 And tea an’ sugar all the while, 
 
 But you never talk of savin’ mother!” 
 
 233 
 
“CHAPTER XXIILe 
 
 Al * Good % [P)anager. 
 
 > R. Newton was looking over his 
 cash account for the year. 
 ‘‘Well,’” asked his wife, 
 3 ‘how do you come out?’ 
 
 ‘‘T find,’’ answered the hus- 
 z* band, “that my expenses during 
 the year have been thirty-seven cents over 
 one thousand dollars.” 
 
 ‘‘And your income has been one thou- 
 sand dollars ?’ 
 
 ‘Yes; [ managed oven well, didn’t I?’ 
 
 ‘“Do you think it managing well to ex- 
 ceed your income?’ asked his wife. 
 
 ‘“What’s thirty-seven cents ?’ 
 
 ‘‘Not much, to be sure, but still, some- 
 thing. It seems to me that we ought to have saved from 
 such an income, instead of falling behind.”’ 
 
 ‘‘But how can we save on such a salary, Elizabeth? 
 We haven’t lived extravagantly, and yet it seems to have 
 taken it all.”’ 
 
 ‘Perhaps there is something in which we might 
 retrench. Suppose you mention some of the items.” 
 
 iy 
 
 ie zi 
 
A GOOD MANAGER. 235 
 
 ‘‘The most important is house rent, one hundred and ~ 
 fifty dollars, and articles of food, five hundred dollars.’’ 
 
 ** Just half of the income ?’ 
 
 _ ‘Yes; and you admit you can not retrench them. I 
 like to live well. I had enough of poor food before J 
 was married. Now I mean to live as well as I can.”’ 
 
 ‘<Still, we ought to save something for a rainy day, 
 Ezra.”’ | 
 
 ‘‘That would be like carrying an umbrella when the 
 - sun shines.”’ 
 
 ‘Still, it is well to have an umbrella in the house.’’ 
 
 ‘*T can not controvert your logic, Elizabeth, but I am 
 afraid I shall not be able to save anything this year. 
 When I have my salary raised it will be time enough to 
 think of that.”’ 
 
 ‘* Let me make a proposition to you,”’ said Mrs. New- 
 ton. ‘‘ You said that one-half of your income had been 
 expended on articles of food. Are you willing to allow 
 me that sum for that purpose ?’ | 
 
 ** Do you guarantee to pay all bills out of it?’ 
 
 66 yen? 
 
 “Then I shift the responsibility upon you with plea- 
 sure. ButTI tell you beforehand, you wont be able to 
 save much out of it, and I shouldn’t relish having addi- 
 tional bills to pay As I am paid every month I will 
 - hand you the money. ”’ 
 
 The different characters of the husband and wife may 
 be judged from the conversation which has been recorded. 
 Mr. Newton had little prudence or foresight. He lived 
 chiefly for the present, and seemed to fancy that what- 
 ever contingencies might arise in the future, he would 
 
236 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 somehow be provided for. Now, to trust to Providence 
 is a proper way, but there is a good deal of truth in the 
 adage, that ‘‘God helps those who help themselves.”’ 
 
 Mrs. Newton, on the contrary, had been brought up 
 in a family which was compelled to be economical, and 
 though she was unwilling to deny herself comforts, yet 
 she felt that it was desirable to procure them in a proper 
 way. 
 
 The time at which this conversation took place was at 
 the commencement of the second year of their married 
 life. 
 
 The first step Mrs. Newton took, on accepting the 
 charge of the household, was to commence the practice of 
 paying cash for all articles that came under her depart- 
 ment. She accordingly called on the butcher and 
 inquired : 
 
 ‘‘How often have you been in the habit of Dieses 
 your bills, Mr. Wilson ?’ 
 
 ‘‘Once in three months,”’ was the reply. 
 
 ‘‘ And I suppose you sometimes have bad bills.”’ 
 
 ‘““Yes; one-third of my profits, on an average, are 
 swept off by them.”’ 
 
 ‘¢T will set them an example, then,’ said Mrs. New- 
 ton. ‘‘ Hereafter whatever articles shall be purchased 
 will be paid for on the spot, and I shall expect you to 
 sell them as reasonably as you can.”’ 
 
 This arrangement was also made with the others, who, 
 it is scarcely needful to say, were glad to enter into 
 the arrangement. Ready money is a great supporter of 
 trade, and a cash customer is worth two who purchase 
 on credit. There are other ways in which a careful 
 
ES 
 
 A GOOD MANAGER. 234 
 
 housekeeper is able to limit expenses, which Mrs. New- 
 ton did not overlook. With an object in view, she was 
 always on the lookout to prevent waste—to get the full 
 value of whatever was expended. The result was beyond 
 her expectations. 
 
 At the close of the year, on examining her bank book 
 —for she had regularly deposited whatever money she 
 did not use—she found that she had one hundred and 
 fifty dollars, besides reimbursing herself for the money 
 spent during the first month, and had enough to last 
 
 _ through the other. 
 
 ‘‘ Well, Elizabeth, have you kept within your allow- 
 
 -ance,”’ asked her husband at that time. ‘‘I imagine you 
 
 have not found it as easy to save as you thought.”’ 
 
 ‘‘T have saved something, however,’’ said the wife. 
 ‘** How is it with you ?’ 
 
 ‘“'That’s more than I can say; however, I have not 
 exceeded my income; that is one good thing. We have 
 lived fully as well as last year, and I do not know but 
 that we have lived better than when we spent the whole 
 five hundred dollars. 
 
 ‘*Its knack, Ezra,’’ said his wife, smiling. She was 
 not inclined to mention how much she had saved. She 
 wanted some time or other to surprise him, when the 
 amount would be of service. 
 
 ‘‘She may possibly have saved twenty-five dollars,” 
 thought Mr. Newton, or some trifle, and so dismissed 
 the subject from his mind. 
 
 At the end of the second year Mrs. Newton’s savings, 
 including the interest, amounted to three hundred and 
 fifty dollars, and she began to feel quite rich. Her hus- 
 
238 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 band did not think to inquire how much she had saved, 
 
 supposing, as before, it could be but little. However, he 
 had a piece of good news to communicate; his salary 
 had been raised from one thousand to one thousand two 
 hundred. He added: 
 
 ‘* As I before allowed you one-half of my income for 
 household expenses, it is no more than fair that I should 
 do so now. That will give you a better chance to save 
 part of it than before.”’ 
 
 Mrs. Newton merely said she had saved something, 
 without specifying the amount. Her allowance was 
 increased to six hundred dollars, but her expenses were 
 not increased at all, so that her savings for the third 
 year swelled the aggregate sum in the savings bank to 
 six hundred dollars. | 
 
 Mr. Newton, on the contrary, in spite of his increased 
 salary, was no better off at the end of his third year than 
 before. His expenses had increased by one hundred dol- 
 lars, though he would have found it difficult to tell in 
 what way his comfort or happiness had been increased 
 thereby. ; 
 
 In spite of his carelessness as to his own affairs, Mr. 
 Newton was an excellent business man, and his ser- 
 vices were valuable to his employers. They accordingly 
 increased his salary from time to time until it reached 
 one thousand six hundred dollars. He had continued 
 his custom of giving his wife one-half, and this had 
 become such a habit that he never thought to inquire 
 whether she found it necessary to employ the whole or 
 not. 
 
 Thus ten years rolled away. During all this time Mr. 
 
A GOOD MANAGER. 239 
 
 Newton lived in the same hired house, for which he paid 
 an annual rent of one hundred and fifty dollars. lJat- 
 terly, however, he had become dissatisfied with it, It 
 had passed into the hands of a new landlord, who was 
 not disposed to keep it in the repair which the tenant 
 considered desirable. 
 
 About this time a block of excellent houses was rected 
 by a capitalist, who desired to sell or let them as he 
 might have an opportunity. They were modern, and 
 much better arranged than the one in which Mr. New- 
 ton lived, and he felt a strong desire to move into one of 
 them. He mentioned it to his wife one morning. 
 
 ‘What is the rent?’ asked Mrs. Newton. ‘‘Two hun- 
 dred and twenty-five dollars for the corner hijuse; two 
 hundred for either of the others.”’ 
 
 *‘The corner house would be preferable, on account of 
 the side windows.”’ 
 
 ‘Yes; and it has a large yard besides. { think we 
 had better take one of them. I guess we’ll engage one 
 of them to-day. You know our year is up next week.’ 
 
 ‘Please wait until to-morrow before you engage one,”’ 
 urged Mrs. Newton. 
 
 ‘* For what reason ?’ 
 
 **T should like to examine the house.”’ 
 
 **Very well, I suppose to-morrow will do.”’ 
 
 Soon after breakfast the next day Mrs. Newton called 
 on the owner of the new block, and intimated her desire 
 to be shown the corner house. Her request was readily 
 complied with. Mrs. Newton was quite delighted with 
 all the arrangements, and expressed her satisfaction. 
 
 ‘¢ Are these houses for sale or to let?’ she enquired. 
 
240 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘*¢Hither,’’ replied the owner. 
 
 ‘“The yearly rent is, I understand, two hundred and 
 twenty-five dollars ?’ 
 
 ‘Yes; I consider the corner house worth twenty-five 
 dollars more than the others.”’ 
 
 ‘‘And what do you charge for the house for a cash 
 purchase?’ asked Mrs. Newton, with subdued eagerness. 
 
 ‘‘Four thousand dollars,’’ was the reply, ‘‘and that 
 is but a small advance on the cost.”’ 
 
 ‘Very well, I will buy it of you,’’ added Mrs. New- 
 ton, quietly. 
 
 ‘What did I understand you to say?’ asked the 
 owner, scarcely believing his own ears. 
 
 ‘‘T will buy this house at your own price, and pay the 
 money within a week.”’ 
 
 ‘‘Then the house is yours. But your husband did not 
 say anything of his intention, and in fact I did not 
 know ——”’ 
 
 ‘‘That he had any money to invest, I suppose you 
 would say. Neither does he know it, and I must ask 
 you not to tell him at present.”’ 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Newton invited her husband to 
 take a walk, but without specifying the direction. They 
 soon stood in front of the house in which he desired to 
 live. 
 
 ‘*Wouldn’t you like to goin?’ she asked. 
 
 ‘¢'Yes; it is a pity we did not get the key.”’ 
 
 ‘‘T have the key,”’ said his wife, and forthwith she 
 walked up the steps and proceeded to open the door. 
 
 ‘‘When did you get the ‘key 2 ?’? asked her husband. 
 
A GOOD MANAGER. 241 
 
 “Yesterday, when I bought the house,’’ said his wife, 
 quietly. 
 
 ‘What do you mean?’ 
 
 “Just what I say. This house is mine, and what is 
 mine is yours. So this house is yours, Ezra.’’ 
 
 ‘Where in the name of goodness did you raise the 
 money ?’ asked Mr. Newton, his amazement as great as 
 ever. 
 
 ‘‘T haven't been managing wife for ten years for 
 nothing,”’ said Mrs. Newton, smiling. 
 
 With some difficulty Mrs. Newton persuaded her hus- 
 band that the price of the house was really the result of 
 her savings. He felt, when he observed the commodious 
 arrangements of the house, that he had reason to be 
 grateful for the prudence of his managing wife.* 
 
 HOW A WORKING GIRL LIVES. 
 
 ‘The story here told is that.of a sensible, level-headed 
 girl, who works in an office in Cincinnati: 
 
 ‘My work is principally writing letters and helping to keep 
 the books of my employer, who does a business of upwards of 
 seventy-five thousand dollars a year. I receive seven dollars a. 
 
 *The story of a good manager is a real incident, and offers a good moral, 
 as well as pleasant reading; but I would not advise its readers to expect; 
 like results from a like experiment. Mrs. Newton had no children ta 
 divide her expenses with, no doctor’s bills, did not make any journeys, and: 
 must have had either very little new clothing, or earned what she did have. 
 in some other way. ‘Phe reader will, no doubt, have a burning curiosity ta 
 _ know what Mr. Newton did with his share of the money which must have 
 been outside of his expenditures for rent and clothing—clear profit. The 
 good management is evident in the.fact that Mrs. Newton saved what she 
 could easily have spent, without any noticeable decrease of comfort in her 
 particular A ai and so, in the end, realized a handsome home. 
 
242 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 week for my work, and have no other means of support. My 
 parents are both dead, and they left no estate, above what was 
 necessary to pay a few debts. At the age of fifteen years I 
 started square with the world, and have held my own for five 
 years, although, I confess, it has been a continual struggle. 
 
 “There are a thousand girls in Cincinnati situated just as I 
 am, struggling on, day after day, to keep soul and body together, 
 with no future, as far as the human eye can discover, worth liv- 
 ing for. There are many not half so well situated as I am, and 
 God only knows how they live. As long as I keep my health I 
 have enough, with none to spare; but that hundreds of poor 
 girls go to bed hungry every night in Cincinnati, I honestly 
 believe. I know girls who work for four dollars a week—ser- 
 vant girls often get more than this, and they have no board to 
 pay. It would be a sadly interesting chapter that would explain 
 just how a girl continues to keep herself in clothes, board her- 
 self, and pay rent on four dollars a week. Of the wages I 
 receive every penny has to count. <A few girls of my acquaint- 
 ance live at home, and have no rent to pay. There are others 
 who receive a little assistance from their fathers or brothers. 
 But there are many who live on this sum, and support them- 
 selves without assistance from any source. I know how some of 
 them manage it. Three or four, and in one case I know where 
 six girls have clubbed together and live in one room, thus 
 making the rent small to each one. They pretend to take their 
 meals at cheap restaurants, but really they are obliged to do 
 most of their own cooking. Economy could go no further than 
 is practiced by some of the working girls in large cities.” 
 
A GOOD MANAGER. 243 
 
 This young lady prepared an estimate of her expenses, 
 which summed up as follows: 
 
 Salary one year (fifty-two weeks), at seven 
 
 dollars a week, - . - - $364 00 
 Deduct one week lost time, - 75 ae One OD) 
 Board and room, - * : - 208 00 
 Coal extra, : - ~ - 10 00 
 Clothing, ° : ° - - 85 00 
 Church, - - « . - 10 00 
 Car fare, ” © : . - 25 00 
 
 $345 00 
 
 Balance, ee ee ee ee BG ON 
 
 “You can well imagine,” concludes the writer, “that this 
 balance of nineteen dollars is soon consumed in medicine or 
 other necessary expenditures. Out of it I buy a paper, or drop 
 an occasional nickel to some poor woman in the street, who 
 seems to have a harder struggle with the world than I have 
 myself.” 
 
 The working girl who contributes this pathetic chap- 
 ter to the literature of woman’s work, would be sur- 
 prised could she know how many girls live respectably, 
 and even save a little for the ‘‘dark day,” on seven ‘dol- 
 lars a week. A large family can live comfortably, pay 
 house rent, and dress moderately well on twenty-eight 
 dollars a week, or fourteen hundred and fifty-six dollars a 
 year. Let four girls, then, club together, rent two rooms, 
 and keep house on the co-operative plan, and they could 
 not only live well but save something, and keep a cheap 
 girl to do the house work. It would require good judg- 
 ment and frugality in buying only what they actually 
 
244. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 needed—plain, wholesome food, that would nourish them 
 and keep them in good health. Their washing would 
 cost twenty-five cents each week, individually, and if 
 employed in office work they can walk, and save car 
 fare. 
 
 The girls who receive only four dollars weekly can 
 make the same advantageous arrangements—one rent 
 and one fire for four. Their food need not cost them 
 over one shilling a day each, and rent and fire combined 
 should not be more; or, at the most, four dollars a 
 month. I admit that it will require the most rigid 
 economy, but not actual hardship, to accomplish this 
 result; but I actually believe our German friends, who 
 have made economy a fine art, would get a small sum in 
 the savings bank besides. It is a matter of constant sur- 
 prise that people can live in a great city and manage on 
 so little, and it is the only place where it can be done. 
 The farmer’s wife who throws a pan of milk away to get 
 rid of it, could not believe that a pint of milk a day is a 
 common quantity for families in the city who are far 
 from poor. But they use it in the tea only, and that 
 sparingly. Thechildren drink water. 
 
 The hardest thing to do with these limited incomes is 
 to keep out of debt. A slip-shod way of doing busi- 
 ness, on the part of storekeepers, permits the running 
 up of accounts, which worry and harass when they come 
 due, worse than any other evil. ‘‘ Hunger, cold, rags, 
 suspicion, hard work, unjust reproach, are disagreeable,”’ 
 says Horace Greeley in his autobiography, ‘‘but debt 
 is infinitely worse than them all. Avoid pecuniary obli- 
 
J 
 A GOOD MANAGER. 245 
 
 gations as you would pestilence or famine. If you have 
 but fifty cents, and can get no more for a week, buy a 
 peck of corn, parch it, and live on it, rather than owe 
 any one a dollar.”’ 
 
—eC HAPTER XXIV.8q 
 
 The # Seience x ofs Cookery. 
 
 sgt 
 
 eres “HERE is always a best way of doing any- 
 ae S| thing, if it be but to boil an egg.—Zimer- 
 \ son. 
 
 ERS qi -Learn the economy of the kitchen.— 
 AN =e <4 ik Ruskin. 
 
 =] * <A husband was once called upon to 
 ae es an epitaph upon his departed wife. 
 He was without education, and had few 
 mental resources, but he had lived very 
 comfortably with his wife and was deeply 
 grieved at her loss, and at first he found 
 it impossible to select one from any of her 
 many virtues which would sufficiently com- 
 * memorate her worth. The one he decided 
 (6)  onat last was this: 
 
 ‘‘Her picked-up dinners were a perfect success.” 
 
 Many a woman with a more pretentious epitaph has 
 had a less satisfactory record. It is said of the modern 
 belle : 
 
 ‘« She had views on co-education, 
 And the principal needs of the nation; 
 And her glasses were blue, and the numbers she knew 
 Of the stars in each high constellation. 
 246 
 
THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY. 247 
 
 And she wrote in a handwriting clerky, 
 And she talked with an emphasis jerky; 
 
 And she painted on tiles, in the sweetest of styles, 
 But she didn’t know chicken from turkey. 
 
 Now, a woman who didn’t know chicken from turkey 
 would be a very poor housekeeper, and so the faculty of 
 at least one college in the United States has decided. 
 The girls of the junior class of the lowa Agricultural 
 College learn to cook in the most thorough manner, as 
 the following description will show: Every girl in the 
 class has learned to make good bread, and has put her 
 knowledge into successful practice, each taking her turn 
 in mixing, kneading, and baking, without other help 
 from the teacher than the first lesson she received. 
 Each has also been taught to make raised and baking- 
 powder biscuit, pie crust, cake of various kinds, pud- 
 dings—to cook a roast and broil a steak. All can tell 
 which is the best cut of beef for roasting or broiling; 
 how many minutes should be allowed for cooking a 
 pound of roast mutton, beef, veal, or pork; how hot the 
 
 oven should be for each; how to prepare it for the oven, 
 
 and how to attend to it after itis put therein. They can 
 give a clear and accurate description of the preliminary 
 steps to be taken as a preparation for any sort of baking. 
 They know how to stuff and roast a turkey, make oyster 
 soup, prepare stock for other soups, steam and mash 
 potatoes, so they will melt in the mouth, and, in short, 
 can get up a palatable meal, combining both substantial 
 and fancy dishes, in good style. 
 
 The class will be instructed in all the arts of canning 
 fruits and vegetables; in preserving and making jellies; 
 
248 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and, if it is found to be impossible to give practical les- 
 sons in this department, the theoretical instruction will 
 be so carefully given that the members can be trusted to 
 can, pickle, and preserve by themselves. 
 
 The indication in connection with teaching the class 
 that gives the best promise for their future success as 
 cooks, is the genuine interest and enthusiasm they have 
 constantly manifested. The hard work has been cheer- 
 fully performed. Wood has been carried, fires kept up, 
 and dishes washed with unvarying good humor. Each 
 week’s instruction has been eagerly received, and not an 
 unpleasant word, from first to last, has marred the good 
 feeling. 
 
 Outside of the instruction of the kitchen, these junior 
 girls have taken careful notes of lectures on many topics 
 connected with household management, such as house- 
 furnishing, care of beds and bedding, washing and iron- 
 ing, care of the sick, care of children, etc. They have 
 prepared essays on similar topics, ina thoughtful man- 
 ner, that has clearly proven that a genuine feeling of 
 appreciation of the tender and solemn responsibilities 
 devolving upon the wife and mother has been kindled in 
 their minds. The authorities of the college are thor- 
 oughly in earnest in trying to offer to girls a broad, sen- 
 sible, and practical education. They give them now the 
 best possible instruction in science, mathematics, and 
 English literature, and mean that some day the depart- 
 ment of domestic economy shall stand fairly abreast of 
 these in thoroughness and efficiency. If these girls can 
 carry into all their domestic experiences the same sunny 
 temper and the unfailing industry and perseverance that 
 
THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY. 249 
 
 they have evinced in the experimental kitchen, they will 
 brighten and adorn any homes fortunate enough to 
 secure them as mistresses. 
 
 TRAINING SCHOOL FOR COOKS. 
 
 It has often been said that while we have the best mar- 
 kets in the world, we have the worst and most wasteful 
 cooking. And although within the last few years much 
 interest has been felt in England, in the establishment of 
 cooking schools, but little has been done in this country. 
 Private classes were opened in Boston about six years 
 ago, and were well patronized, but the expense of instruc- 
 tion was necessarily so large as to close them to persons 
 of small means. Miss Carson, in New York, and Miss 
 Parloa, of Boston, have met with good success in their 
 cooking schools. It is now considered very desirable to 
 bring such teaching within the reach of those who intend 
 to become cooks, and of those girls who have left our 
 grammar schools, and who, by learning to cook econom- 
 ically, and to become good housekeepers, may do much 
 to keep their families above want. | 
 
 Probably the best cooking school for an ignorant gir] 
 is the kitchen of a kind and intelligent mistress, who is 
 willing to spend a large part of her life in that best mis- 
 sionary work—training Irish and German girls in ways 
 of thrifty housewifery. But, since the days of our 
 grandmothers, housekeeping has taken a new aspect. 
 The young mother once had her kitchen within easy 
 reach from her nursery, but now a separation, by long 
 flights of stairs, makes it practically impossible that she 
 shall spend much time in teaching her domestic to cook. 
 
250 | WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 It is hoped that the cooking school, either as an adjunct 
 to the college for educating women, or a separate estab- 
 lishment, may succeed and become a permanent institu- 
 tion of great value to families in providing good cooks; 
 that it will be of still greater benefit to many unem- 
 ployed and poorly paid women, by providing a way in 
 which, at small expense, they can fit themselves to 
 obtain comfortable homes, and to receive good wages. 
 When shirts are sold for fifty cents, there must be many 
 women working at extremely low wages. It will be well 
 if these can be induced to fit themselves for domestic 
 service. | 
 
 The Grecians valued a cook so highly that the head of 
 the kitchen department—the archimageiros as he was 
 called—received the appointment of culinary artist, and 
 presided at all public ceremonies. These officers received 
 no salary as cooks; their fame was sufficient reward. 
 ‘‘We alone,’”’? said they, ‘‘are entrusted by the gods 
 with the secret of human happiness,’? and so they 
 cheerfully resigned all emolument. It is hard for us 
 to imagine such a condition of affairs! No salaries! 
 No perquisites! But we must not credit them with 
 utter disinterestedness, or forget that there were many 
 prizes in the lottery for them. A successful dish, which 
 pleased the palate of a senator, might, at any moment, 
 procure for the cook a gift of priceless value; in any 
 case, applause and a crown of flowers awaited him; and 
 if he invented a new dish he received a sort of patent for 
 it, no other cook dare make it for at least a twelve- 
 month, and he alone drew from it all honor and profit, 
 until some rival successfully prepared another novelty. 
 
THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY. 251. 
 
 When Mark Antony gave one of his famous and his- 
 toric suppers to Cleopatra, and listened to the praises 
 the Egyptian queen bestowed on the viands, he called 
 for the cook and gave him a city as a recompense. 
 
 The head cook of Charles the VII. left to his descend. 
 ants a valuable recipe for golden soup, which may inter- 
 est the housewife of to-day: ‘‘ Toast,’’? he says, ‘slices 
 of bread, then throw them into a jelly made of sugar, 
 yolk of egg, white winé, and rose water. When they 
 are well soaked try them, and then throw them again 
 into rose water, and sprinkle well with sugar and saff- 
 ron.’’ Such a soup would hardly satisfy the esthetics 
 of to-day. 
 
 Sicilians made the best cooks in olden times, and were 
 enjoined to remain, while the Romans offered incredible 
 sums for their services, the chief cook in a Roman house- 
 hold often receiving a salary equal to $4,000 a year. This, 
 however, can be offset here in our own country, Mrs. 
 Vanderbilt paying her head cook $7,000 yearly, while 
 there are numerous instances among the wealthy where 
 the cook is paid $3,000 and $4,000 a year. The ancients 
 gave a great importance to the science of gastronomy. 
 Their kitchen services were of silver, and each dish, 
 sauce, and gravy had a special silver utensil. Forks 
 were unknown to them, but silver spoons were abund- 
 ant, and rich ladles of gold and silver, bronze chafing 
 dishes, silver cups and saucers, rare porcelain, and all 
 the luxurious dishes known to the present household, 
 were in use. Many relics which we preserve as orna- 
 ments for our parlors were kitchen utensils of the ancient 
 Greeks. 
 
252 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 All was elegance, combined with utility, and the same 
 feature of distinctive care in the arrangement of the 
 kitchen is shown in pictures and sketches of the buried 
 Pompeii; the kitchen floors were tiled, the doors were of 
 rare woods, and the appurtenances were unique and 
 costly. Cooking then ranked among the fine arts, while 
 in this age of the world, and in America, it comes near 
 being one of the lost arts. 
 
 May we not hope that in the coming time cards of 
 invitation will be sent out which will read: ‘‘ Drill 
 exhibition by Mrs. Jones’ class, in practical cooking, 
 Dessert Day;’’ or, an advertisement of Roast beef, with 
 clear gravy, by the young ladies of the Jones Cooking 
 School.’’ Doctor Johnson said of his friend Mrs. Carter, 
 that she could both translate Epictetus and make a pud- 
 ding. The widow of a courtier of Henry VIII. was 
 rewarded with the gift of a dissolved priory, for some 
 fine puddings she had presented his majesty. The great 
 ladies of France have not only invented new dishes for 
 the table, but have given their illustrious names to them, 
 Bechamel sauce being a product of a marquise of that 
 name, while Filets de Capereau a la Berry were named 
 after the lady who invented them, the Duchess de Berry, 
 daughter of the Regent Orleans. A writer on culture in 
 cooking, says: ‘‘The daughters of the wealthy in this 
 country often marry struggling men, and they know 
 less about domestic economy than ladies of the highest 
 rank abroad; not because English or French ladies take 
 more part in housekeeping, but because they are at home 
 all their lives. Ladies of the highest rank never go to a 
 
THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY 253 
 
 boarding or any other school, and these are the women 
 who, with some few exceptions, know best how things 
 Should be done.”? The same writer says: ‘‘ Who does 
 not remember, with affectionate admiration, Charlotte 
 Bronté stealthily taking the eyes out of the potatoes 
 for fear of hurting the feelings of her purblind old ser: 
 vant, or, Margaret Fuller shelling peas.’’ 
 
 One of the important features in the housekeeping 
 department is the kitchen library. Every kitchen 
 should have its books of reference—not the thin pam- 
 philet, advertising some quack medicine, with a few hap- 
 hazard recipes thrown in to command attention—but a 
 whole set of books, bound in oil-cloth, which can be 
 washed off —the cook-books of different countries — 
 ancient and modern cook-books, and curious dishes and 
 feasts, with historical descriptions of dinners, banquets, 
 etc., with the simple primary works of rudimentary 
 cooking. There are some twenty or thirty recipe books, 
 and as many more descriptive and anecdotal volumes, 
 out of which number a good selection might be made. 
 The Beecher family can furnish several. Miss Catharine 
 Beecher wrote a cook-book, Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher 
 has written two or three such domestic volumes, and 
 Marian Harland is an accepted authority on all cooking 
 and housekeeping topics, her books being in constant 
 demand. There are also some novels that are great helps 
 to young housekeepers, Mrs. Whitney’s ‘‘ We Girls”’ 
 being one of the most instructive. It is a delightful 
 book for young girls to read, its description of an art 
 kitchen being most fascinating, and its housekeeping 
 
254 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 experiments of the most satisfactory kind. In regard to 
 her cook-book, she says: ‘‘I revised that book with the 
 proof in one hand and the cooking stove in the other;”’ 
 and she tells a funny story of how, late one night, 
 feeling a little troubled for fear the proportions in an 
 Indian pudding were not exactly right, she came down 
 stairs, built a fire, made and baked it, while the rest of 
 the family were unconsciously asleep. 
 
 Add to these a book of domestic poems, and some- 
 where over the flour barrel or the piano—I am not sure 
 but I would have a piano in every kitchen, as one of its 
 attractive properties—let this verse, from grand George 
 Herbert, be engraved, or embroidered, or frescoed: 
 
 ‘* A servant with this clause 
 Makes drudgery divine, 
 Who sweeps a room as for thy laws, 
 Makes that and the action fine.” 
 
 THE COOKING SCHOOL DRESS. 
 
 This costume consists of a neat, short dress, with an 
 immense brown Holland or print over-apron, with waist, 
 pockets and all conveniences. These aprons are inex- 
 pensive, and can, if necessary, be bought ready made at 
 the Woman’s Exchange, or in large dry goods stores, and 
 keep the whole dress free of dust or spot. A cap of blue 
 or pink cambric, or white muslin, protects the hair. 
 These caps are simply large, round pieces of cloth, into 
 which an elastic is shirred an inch or so from the edge, 
 and they cost only a few cents. Some critical observer 
 has said, that, as a general thing, female cooks are not 
 expected to be fit to be seen, although male cooks have 
 
7 
 4 
 f 
 . i 
 
 THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY. 255 
 
 no such privileges of disorder allowed them. It is a new 
 idea that women are less cleanly and tidy than men, but 
 perhaps the truth may be found in the fact that women 
 cooks are loaded with other duties. The artist in cook- 
 ing will be also an artist in making of herself a picture, 
 such as this description from a late novel, where the 
 scenes are laid in France: ‘‘ Rue’s dress was tucked up 
 and pinned behind, an immense coarse linen apron was 
 tied over it, she had twisted a white handkerchief round 
 her head to prevent the flour getting into her hair, and 
 her sleeves were rolled above her elbows. But there 
 were golden porte-bonhuers on the white and shapely 
 arms, and the little feet, with their pink striped stock- 
 ings and daintily buckled shoes, could not have belonged 
 to a Bearnais peasant any more than could the aristo- 
 cratic, delicately featured face.” 
 
 IDEAL KITCHENS. 
 
 There are kitchens which resemble the ideal picture 
 which is presented to us in the novel or on the stage, in 
 
 real homes, and they are happy, comfortable places, 
 
 where a neat, white-handed woman, in picturesque cos- 
 tume, moves with gracious ease among the pots and 
 pans; where a white loaf is cut on a white table, such a 
 place as we might imagine as that in which Werther’s 
 Charlotte ‘‘went on cutting bread and butter;’ where 
 golden pots of preserves are opened and inspected, and 
 moulds of jelly turned out into crystal dishes; the pre- 
 siding genius of such a place can not be otherwise than 
 neat and daintly habited, for she understands the science 
 of cooking, and invokes to her aid the principles of 
 
956 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 chemistry, and reduces all the forces of grease and dirt 
 by a superior process of active absorption. Every pan 
 has its place; each utensil its nail or closet; the holder is 
 omnipresent; clean towels abound; neat mats are spread 
 on the floor; there is a mirror on the wall; there are com- 
 fortable chairs to sit on; the kitchen is the heart of the 
 house, and if there is disorder there it is felt through 
 the entire system. 
 
 MRS. GARFIELD ON BREAD-MAKING. 
 
 Mrs. Lucretia Garfield, widow of the president, wrote 
 to her husband, over ten years ago, in the following 
 strain : 
 
 “Tam glad to tell you, that out of all the toil and disappoint- 
 ments of the summer just ended, I have risen up to a victory; 
 that silence of thought, since you have been away, has won for 
 my spirit a triumph. I read something like this the other day: 
 ‘There is no healthy thought without labor, and thought makes 
 the labor happy.’ Perhaps this is the way I have been able to 
 climb up higher. It came to me this morning when I was mak- 
 ing bread. I said to myself, ‘Here I am compelled, by an iney- 
 itable necessity, to make our bread this summer. Why not con- 
 sider it a pleasant occupation, and make it so, by trying to see 
 what perfect bread I can make? It seemed like an inspiration, 
 and the whole of my life grew brighter. The very sunshine 
 seems flowing down through my spirit into the white loaves, and 
 now I believe that my table is furnished with better bread than 
 ever before; and this truth, old as creation, seems just now to 
 have become fully mine, that I need not be the shrinking slave 
 of toil, but its regal master, making whatever I do yield its best 
 
 fruits.’ ” 
 
THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY. 257 
 
 The above quotation from Mrs. Garfield’s letter was 
 read by Professor Hinsdale to the students at Hiram Col- 
 lege, Ohio, as an incentive to more exalted work, and I 
 insert it here with the hope that some discouraged 
 worker, reading it, may take heart and rise nobly to 
 fresh endeavor. ‘‘ Give us this day our daily bread,’’ is 
 one of the beautiful petitions of Our Lord’s Prayer. 
 How often have weary souls longed to add, with all due 
 reverence: ‘‘Give it tous white and light and sweet, 
 wholesome and digestible, that we may be comforted 
 and strengthened.’’ The meaning of the word lady is 
 loaf-giver. Can there bea more acceptable priesthood 
 than this service of love and labor—the token of hospi- 
 tality—the badge of ladyhood? Some one has curtly 
 said that it is not passion or ill-temper that drive men to 
 commit murder or suicide; it is heavy, sour bread, which 
 perverts the whole current of being, and transforms 
 human beings into demons. Every woman has a mis- 
 sion to learn to make good bread, if she would consider 
 the happiness of her family. The newspapers are fond 
 of disseminating such stories as the following, at the 
 expense of the girls who will not make bread : 
 
 “A fashionable young lady of this city visited a cooking: 
 school the other afternoon, when her attention was equally 
 divided between a new dress, worn by an acquaintance, and the: 
 directions for making cake. Upon returning home she under-~ 
 took to write down the recipe for cake-making for her mother, 
 who found that it read as follows: 
 
 “Take two pounds of flour, three rows of plaiting down the 
 front, the whites of two eggs, cut bias; a pint of milk, ruffle 
 around ee neck, half a pound of currants, seven yards of bead 
 
258 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 trimming, grated lemon peel, with Spanish lace fichu. Stir 
 well.” 
 
 - Her mother said she thought these new-fangled ideas 
 on cooking ought to be frowned down. 
 
 ‘No, indeed, ’m not going to learn chow to make 
 bread,’’ said an Eastern belle, ‘‘ girls who know how to 
 make bread generally marry men who can not afford to 
 buy flour to make it with, and they have to work in a 
 millinery shop to help pay the board bill. Pll stick to 
 my fancy work.’’ 
 
 It is related of the Hon. Philetus Sawyer, a Wisconsin 
 senator, that he was so well pleased with a dinner pre- 
 pared entirely for him by his two daughters, that he 
 gave to each of them a check for twenty-five thousand 
 dollars, a present quite within his gift, as he is a 
 millionaire. 
 
 The thrifty, economical German fathers have a quaint 
 and pretty way of interesting their young daughters in 
 bread-making, and, at the same time, reward them for 
 their industry. They conceal numerous small silver coin 
 in the flour, and the girl finds these in Se the 
 bread. 
 
 There should be a cooking catechism upHAREAL with 
 such questions as these : 
 
 Can you make a clear gravy ? 
 
 Can you make good soups ? 
 
 Can you broil a beefsteak ? 
 
 In how many different ways can you cook potatoes ? 
 
 Do you know how to roast meats properly % 
 
 Can you make puddings ? 
 
 Can you make sauces ? 
 
THE SCIENCE OF COOKERY. 259 
 
 Miss Julia Nast, the daughter of the well-known artist, 
 ‘Thomas Nast, has for some years presided over a young 
 girl’s cooking association, at her home in Morristown, 
 New Jersey, where, as head cook, she displays true 
 artistic talent, and offers an example worthy of 
 emulation. | : 
 
 COOK INSTEAD OF CLERK. 
 
 A three line notice of the death of a lady, in the city 
 ‘papers, recently, is all the world will know of one whose 
 life was crowded with strange vicissitudes. 
 
 Her family name was one of rare distinction in the 
 record of the revolution. Her husband was a naval 
 officer of merit, and she had been a society queen in the 
 past administration. In the rebellion everything was 
 swept from her family—husband, home, and money—as 
 those of her kindred had chosen their part with the 
 South. At the close of the war, friendless and penni- 
 less, so far as friends could help her—for they were all 
 ‘stranded together—she was not sufficiently educated to 
 teach. She had no accomplishments, such as a knowl- 
 edge of music or languages. She had always been fond 
 of housekeeping, and possessed a practical knowledge of 
 cooking in its higher branches. She found herea lady, 
 unmarried, who had known her when fortune smiled, 
 ‘and there she served for sixteen years; this delicately 
 nurtured lady performed the duties of cook. She hired 
 a colored woman to do the washing and ironing, and 
 other laborious duties, but cook she remained to the end. 
 
 The remarkable part of all this is, that had her history 
 ‘been known, and her grandfather’s services to the coun- 
 itry told, she would have been appointed to some position 
 
260 wAae CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 under the sovarnmencé; but she preferred to remain in 
 the quiet and seclusion of her friend’s kitchen. This 
 woman, who had great claim upon the country for the 
 deeds done by her ancestors, never paraded them, never 
 hung about the Capitol or hunted down members. She 
 never traded upon the renown of her grandfather, 
 although his was one to be proud of. She went about 
 her simple duties thankful that she could eat bread of 
 her own earning, far from the madding crowd who hunt 
 for and hold office. This brave, patient woman deserves 
 a monument on which should be engraved: ‘‘ Here 
 rests one who chose rather to be a cook than a clerk.” , 
 
’ 
 
 —@C HAPTER XXV.8- 
 Thex Hews Cools, 
 
 ‘We may live without poetry, music and art, 
 
 We may live without conscience and live without heart, 
 We may live without friends; we may live without books, 
 But civitized man can not live without cooks. 
 
 or HERE is one thing you mustn’t for- 
 get, lom!’’ 
 
 ‘“What’s that, Emma?’ 
 
 ‘* Don’t forget to go to the registry 
 office and send me a cook. The new 
 @% girlis good for nothing, and the old 
 one can’t do everything. Young or old, 
 man or woman, I don’t care, only send me 
 up a competent cook by ten o’clock this 
 morning.”’ 
 
 ‘*Don’t look so desperate, Sis; Pll re- 
 member it. J want things in pretty good 
 style for Maxwell; he is used to it—is fond 
 of good dinners; and I guess Pll send you 
 a good, smart man cook, Emma.’ Mr. 
 Thomas Maye disappeared with a re-assuring nod. He 
 had a proverbially bad memory; pretty Emma Maye 
 knew it very well, yet in this desperate emergency she 
 trusted him. 
 
 Xo KH = 
 a , SV LOCOS fs 
 GAD y We 
 
 \ 
 
 261 
 
262 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 During the two years she had had charge of her wid- 
 owed brother’s family they had been blessed by the most 
 skillful of cooks; but Joan had taken a fancy to get mar- 
 ried, and her place was hastily supplied by one who soon: 
 proved incapable. | 
 
 Just at this juncture Mr. Maye received tidings that 
 his dead wife’s favorite brother, Arthur Maxwell, just 
 returned from abroad, would pay him a visit. From the 
 first Emma had been nervous over the responsibility of 
 entertaining this elegant young man, whom she had 
 never seen. She was lovely and accomplished; but she 
 could not cook—in fact, she had never tried. . 
 
 It was half-past seven o’clock when Mr. Maye went to: 
 town. He took nothing but a cup of coffee at sevem 
 o’clock, and lunched at his favorite restaurant at eleven: 
 o’clock. At half-past three o’clock the Mayes dined, 
 and Mr. Maxwell was expected by the ten minutes past- 
 three o’clock train. 
 
 ‘‘There!”’? sighed Emma, when, two hours after her 
 brother’s departure, the house was in its usual exquisite 
 order, and the viands and flowers sent up for dinner; 
 ‘if Tom doesn’t forget, and if he sends up a good cook, 
 everything will be nice enough.”’ 
 
 She did not dare think of the possibility of Tom’s hav- 
 ing forgotten, or that of the cook not coming for any 
 other reason; but when, precisely at ten o’clock, the 
 door-bell rang, a secret weight was lifted from her heart. 
 She ran herself to answer the summons. A medium- 
 sized, well-dressed, modest-looking young man stood at. 
 the entrance, and she brightened at sight of him. 
 
 ‘“‘T am very glad you are so punctual; I was afraid 5 
 
THE NEW COOK. 263: 
 
 should be disappointed,’’ she said, leading the way to 
 kitchen without an instant’s delay. ‘‘ Let me see—ten 
 o'clock. I shall have to set you to work at once to pre- 
 pare a first-class dinner. We are expecting company 
 from London, my cook has left me, and I do not myself 
 know anything about cooking. What is your name?’ 
 literally bereaving the young man of his hat and hang- 
 ing it as high out of reach as possible. 
 
 His reply was rather faint, but she thought she 
 caught it. 
 
 ‘Mac! You do not look like an Irishman. But it 
 doesn’t make any difference. Are you a good cook?’ 
 
 The smile of the young man was rather puzzling. ‘“‘Tll 
 do my best,’’ he said pleasantly. 
 
 ‘“You see there’s nothing in the house but cold 
 chicken,’’ continued Emma, unconsciously wringing 
 her little hands as she continued to address the new 
 cook, who certainly listened very attentively. ‘‘ But my 
 brother has sent us up some pigeons—to be roasted, I 
 suppose.”’ 
 
 66 Yes’ m.” 
 
 “Can you make a celery salad ?”’ 
 
 **T think I can.”’ 
 
 ‘¢ And Mayonnaise sauce for the cold chicken ?”’ 
 
 ‘¢ -Yes’m.”’ 
 
 ‘¢Can you make French soup ?”’ 
 
 “1 can.” 
 
 *‘Oh, well, I think you will do” (beginning to look 
 relieved). 
 
 ‘‘Be sure the vegetables are not overdone, and the 
 coffee good—my brother is very particular about his 
 
264 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 coffee. And we will havea Florentine pudding?’ with 
 an inquiring look. 
 
 ‘*Yes’m,”’ readily. 
 
 The new cook was already girding himself with one of 
 the white towels that lay on the dresser, and casting a 
 scrutinizing glance at the range fire. 
 
 Quite re-assured in spirit, Emma was turning away 
 when she stopped to add: 
 
 ‘‘T will lay the table myself to-day, Mac, and fill the 
 fruit-dishes and vases; but if you give satisfaction I will 
 intrust you with the key of the china closet, and you 
 will have the entire care of the table.”’ 
 
 And with a gracious nod the young lady withdrew 
 from the kitchen. 
 
 She piled the fruit dishes with rosy pears, golden 
 oranges and white grapes; filled the vases with roses, 
 lilies and ferns; set clusters of dainty glasses, filled with 
 amber jelly, among the silver and china, and then, with 
 a sigh of satisfaction at the result, ran away to dress. 
 
 ‘*T ll not go near the kitchen to even smell the dinner. 
 I don’t know anything about cooking it, and will trust to 
 luck. I have an idea that Mac is really capable—is going 
 to prove a treasure. His dress was so neat, and he was 
 so quiet and respectful,’’ concluded Emma, leisurely 
 arranging her hair. 
 
 Her new dress, with its abundant lace and cardinal 
 ribbons, was very becoming, and fitted the petite, round 
 figure so perfectly, that Emma felt at peace with all the 
 world. 
 
 ‘‘T have heard that Mr. Arthur Maxwell is very fastid- 
 ious in the matter of ladies’ dress,’’ mused Emma, twisting 
 
THE NEW COOK. 265 
 
 her head over her shoulder to see the effect of her sash. 
 ‘¢T wonder what his first impression of me will be? I 
 should like to have poor Ally’s brother like me.”’ 
 
 At length the last bracelet was clasped, the last touch 
 given, and, retiring backward from the mirror with a 
 radiant face, Emma turned and ran up to the nursery to 
 see the children dressed for company, and also to speak 
 with the boys—and, it must be confessed, flirt a little 
 with Mr. Vincent, the tutor, who was always at her ser- 
 vice for this exercise. 
 
 There was a delightfully savory odor pervading the 
 house, when she came down and set out the fruits and 
 ice, and made a few additions to the table. 
 
 She looked at her watch—five minutes past three. 
 ‘Then she went softly to the end of the hall, and listened 
 to the lively clatter in the kitchen. She could hear Mac 
 chatting pleasantly with the little housemaid, Nanny, 
 ‘and all seemed to be well in that direction. 
 
 At ten minutes past three she repaired to the drawing- 
 room and took a seat overlooking the street. 
 
 Carriages came and carriages went, but none stopped 
 at the entrance. 
 
 The little girls, brave in new ribbons, came down. 
 
 The boys and Mr. Vincent came down. 
 
 Mr. Maye’s latch-key rattled in the door, the dinner- 
 bell rang. 
 
 ‘*Not come?’ asked Mr. Maye, at sight of Emma’s 
 disappointed face. 
 
 ‘*No,”’ she pouted, ‘‘and such a nice dinner !”’ 
 
 **Very strange !’’ mused that gentleman, now leading 
 the way into the dinner-room. ‘‘I hadn’t the least 
 
266 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 doubt—Why, my dear fellow,”’ seizing by the shoulders: 
 the new cook, who, acting also as butler, had just placed 
 the soup-tureen upon the table—‘‘ my dear fellow, why,, 
 how is this? Emma declared you hadn’t come!’’ 
 
 That young lady grew as white as the table cloth, and 
 grasped a chair for support. 
 
 “That Mr. Arthur Maxwell? I—I thought it was the 
 cook.”’ 
 
 ‘*T came earlier than I expected, and in time to make 
 myself useful to Miss Emma,’’ laughed Mr. Maxwell, 
 divesting himself of his white towel and bowing with 
 grace to that young lady. 
 
 How could she have fallen into such an error? 
 
 ‘‘T was so terribly anxious—I didn’t look at yow 
 twice. Mr. Maxwell, I hope you will forgive me!’ 
 stammered Emma, as red now as she had been pale. 
 
 ‘There is nothing to forgive, if my dinner turns out 
 well,’ he added, laughing, evidently the sweetest tem- 
 pered man in the world. ‘‘I learned to cook when I was. 
 a student in Paris—a Frenchman taught me. I have 
 been rather proud of my culinary skill, but I am a little 
 out of practice now, and am not quite sure of the 
 Florentine.’ 
 
 ‘‘Kmma,”’ cried Mr. Maye, ‘‘ what does this mean?’ 
 
 ‘¢Why, John, you promised to send me up a man 
 cook.”’ 
 
 Mr. Maye clasped his hands tragically. 
 
 ‘*Kmma, I forgot it.” 
 
 ‘< Well, he came just at ten o’clock. I thought he was 
 the cook; I ushered him into the kitchen, among the 
 pots and pans. I questioned him as to what he knew 
 
si aa 
 
 THE NEW COOK. 267 
 
 about cooking. Iurged him to make all haste and serve 
 the dinner; and—and I called him an Irishman!’’ sob- 
 bed Emma, hysterically. 
 
 ‘No offense, Miss Emma. My grandfather, on my 
 mother’s side— Maj. Trelawny—was an Irishman,”’ 
 observed Mr. Maxwell, coolly. ‘‘ And, since I have 
 done my best, won’t you try the soup before it is 
 cold ?’ 
 
 The others stared and Emma cried, but Mr. Maye 
 laughed—laughed uproariously. 
 
 ‘‘The best joke of the season! Sit down, everybody ! 
 Emma, you foolish girl, don’t cry. Arthur doesn’t care. 
 And, as for your Florentine—Arthur, tell Nanny to 
 bring it in. The proof of the pudding is the eating, 
 you know.”’ 
 
 ‘*Miss Emma won’t cry when she tastes my soup,”’ 
 remarked Arthur, ladling it out promptly, with an air 
 of pride. 
 
 And then they fell to tasting and praising, and urging 
 Emma to taste and praise, until she laughed and cried. 
 all together. 
 
 But Mr. Arthur was so delightful, so winning and so 
 witty, so kind to his agitated young hostess, and had 
 cooked such an excellent dinner—from the pia to 
 the pudding, everything was perfect. 
 
 By-and-by Emma was herself again. 
 
 ‘‘This has taught me a lesson,’”’ she said. ‘‘I never 
 will be so desperately situated again. I will learn to 
 cook.”’ 
 
 ‘‘Let me teach you,’’ said Arthur. 
 
 He did 
 
S-CHAPTER XXVI.- 
 
 Keeping * Jaoarders, 
 
 D. 
 <> 
 & 
 
 iG, 
 A re 
 
 mS? HERE is no doubt that the board- 
 : ’ ing-house business is a popular one, 
 
 m ff ) 
 i( 
 ~) 
 
 Cay} 
 
 ee 
 
 | look at it from whatever side we may, 
 for it gives the woman incapable of 
 doing anything else, a chance to earn 
 a respectable living, and it gives the 
 people who are without homes or means to 
 establish them a chance to live respectably. 
 Like all other business, it is overdone, and 
 it often proves a dismal failure in the hands 
 of incompetent people, just as any other 
 enterprise does. There are people who 
 are well adapted to keeping boarders, and 
 making money out of them, in a proper 
 
 and legitimate way, and they are not the 
 most agreeable characters to know, either, for entertain- 
 ing guests at so much a head is certainly a rather demor- 
 alizing business. A woman needs to be sharp and shrewd 
 who can cater successfully to a half hundred different 
 tastes, serve them all with equal partiality, listen to 
 their tales of woe, take sides in their domestic differ- 
 ences, and not let her left hand lodger know what the 
 right hand lodger does or says. She must be blind to 
 
 268 
 
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KEEPING BOARDERS. 269: 
 
 frowns and sneers, and deaf to complaints, and able to 
 read character at a glance, so that she may not be 
 cheated out of board bills by some systematic Micawber; 
 she must harden her heart against stories of unpaid sal- 
 aries and delayed remittances, or be unjust to herself 
 and her other boarders, who pay promptly. It is folly 
 to talk about model boarding houses, unless there is a 
 community of model boarders to fillit. In all boarding 
 houses the guests are served with what the best judg- 
 ment of the landlady has dictated. It would be a most 
 delightful state of things if one could have broiled 
 chicken and another broiled steak, according to their 
 individual tastes; but this is only possible in restaurants 
 conducted on the European style, where each article is 
 paid for at its individual price. The wise landlady 
 studies the tastes of her boarders as far as she can; she 
 gives them each day a comfortable spread of such things 
 as are in the market and within the limits of the price 
 she pays for them, and a majority of the guests are sat- 
 isfied. But there are some—and the captious critic 
 will at once cry out that these are women; yes, my dear 
 sir, [am afraid they are, with the exception of an old- 
 maidish man, with the tastes of an invalid—who always 
 want something that is not on the table or bill of fare, ° 
 such as toasted bread at dinner, or hot meats at supper. 
 If these things are not immediately forthcoming there 
 are complaints long and loud, and the grumbling indi- 
 vidual infects the whole table with the same spirit. 
 There must be a little wise management here, and, if 
 within the bounds of reason, the boarder’s tastes should 
 be consulted and the favorite dish prepared, for this 
 
270 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 involves the principle of home. One man or woman can 
 not eat hot bread, so a plate of the cold article is placed 
 near. It gives a little more work to the tired waiters, 
 but, to look at it financially, it will probably pay in the 
 end. ‘‘But,’’ says some envious boarder, ‘‘ this is being 
 partial.”’ 
 
 Not at all; because yow can not get home to dinner a 
 plate of hot viands is in the oven for you, and the bal- 
 ance is struck. 
 
 Nearly all boarding houses are kept by women. It 
 is an established fact, that men are unsuccessful and 
 unpopular in the business. They have neither the pru- 
 dence or the patience to contend with the many difficul- 
 ties in the way. In the best kept boarding house the 
 landiady is never seen, except when business requires 
 her. She has her own room, which is also her office, 
 and boarders go there to see her, engage board, pay bills, 
 or make complaints. She takes no one without special 
 reference, and aims at having her people of a social 
 equality, and of such financial standing as will ensure 
 their bills being promptly paid. She will be able to 
 cater to their wants much easier if free from anxiety on 
 this head; and if she has discrimination she will soon 
 learn what kind of a table to set. If they pay hand- 
 somely she can have her house well furnished, and keep 
 it in repair; but the average boarder pays only for what 
 there is to eat; the price does not include new Brussels 
 carpet in the halls every spring, and a luxurious air of 
 hot house prosperity. The thread-bare carpets and worn 
 furniture, familiar to all who have ever lived in large 
 boarding houses, are not the results of a penurious dis- 
 
ots ~—— 7 je 
 “i a . ‘ 
 : 
 
 ee 
 
 KEEPING BOARDERS. 271 
 
 ‘position, ‘but of actual necessity. There is nothing left 
 when the rent, fuel, and food, with gas, wages, and inci- 
 dental expenses, to which the arrears of impecunious 
 boarders must be added, not even enough to give the 
 ‘patient, over-worked landlady a new dress. She is only 
 too thankful that she has earned food and shelter for 
 herself and family, and not runin debt. Boarders sel- 
 -dom take this into consideration. 
 
 If a woman owns her house she has a better chance to 
 make a little profit; and if she is unscrupulous and 
 cheats her trades-people, she saves enough to retire 
 upon, but the actual experience of all boarding house 
 keepers is about the same. If, by the closest good man- 
 agement, they can pay expenses, they consider them- 
 selves fortunate. There are some people who always 
 ‘manage to get their board at cost price, and these are 
 usually the ones who, after a while, neglect to pay at all. 
 Every landlady suffers from these irregular people, who 
 -expect to live comfortably at the expense of others, and 
 ‘usually manage to do so. 
 
 Having decided that there must be a certain uniform 
 ‘system about the table, on the basis which is equally 
 removed from niggardliness or extravagance, the next 
 ‘item of regard is the cooking, and this can giye a charac- 
 ter to a boarding house just as decidedly as the guests. 
 ‘Eternal vigilance is the price of a good table, as much as 
 ‘itis of liberty. The table cloths and napkins must be 
 ‘spotless for the dinner table—if they can not be changed 
 -at each meal—the silver and glasses highly polished, the 
 food well cooked and savory. The vegetables cooked in 
 -boarding houses are usually abominable, and an investi- 
 
272 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 gation into the matter discloses the fact that in nine 
 times out of ten the vegetable cook is a slatteringly girl 
 who knows nothing about the business, and is hardly 
 competent to wash a pan full of potatoes properly. She 
 pares the potatoes without washing them first, to save: 
 trouble, and puts them on in cold water, to soak and 
 simmer, or else she hurries them over the fire and cooks. 
 them at a galloping boil, taking them off with a ‘‘ bone: 
 in the middle.’? There are as many different ways of 
 cooking potatoes as there are days in the week, but the 
 average boarding house finds it too much trouble, or, 
 rather, the servants do. It is certainly one woman’s. 
 work to attend to the vegetables alone and cook them as. 
 they should be cooked. Who does not recall the mashed 
 potatoes of home as compared with those of the boarding 
 house, with a yearning sense of loss. And how different 
 the black, soggy mass called fried potatoes from the 
 crisp, brown slices that mother cooked. True, there 
 are a great many more to cook for, but the one woman 
 can easily do it. And the strong grease in which they 
 are usually cooked is one of the penny-wise-pound- 
 foolish habits of the woman who despises the day of 
 small things. 
 
 Marketing judiciously is another of the branches: 
 which a woman, who would be successful in it, must 
 study and understand. The woman who pays ready 
 money for all she buys will save a large per centage on 
 her purchases. She should have her marketing always: 
 done a week in advance, or nearly so; that is, she should 
 select her steaks and roasts of beef for Thursday on Mon- 
 day, and have it hungintheice-room. The fish for Wed- 
 
KEEPING BOARDERS. io 
 
 nesdays and Fridays should be decided on the same day. 
 The poultry for Thursdays and Sundays engaged regu- 
 larly from a poulterer who knows his customer and dare 
 not supply an inferior article, and so on with all other 
 supplies. And let her vary the monotony of a uniform 
 day for fish and fowl, by giving her boarders a surprise. 
 A supper of tenderloin steaks and escalloped potatoes, 
 or a New England Sunday breakfast of baked beans and 
 brown bread, with baked apples and fried mush, or a 
 dinner course of oysters and celery, on some day that is 
 not Sunday. Instead of the stewed prunes, prunelles, 
 dried peaches and apple sauce, which figure over and 
 over on the boarding house table, let her have fresh 
 canned peaches and cream, preserves, apples quartered 
 and dropped into a boiling syrup of white sugar, fla- 
 vored with lemon, and some of the home dishes, cus- 
 tards and floating islands that are so grateful to the eyes 
 and delicious to the taste. A house that has a reputa- 
 tion of this kind is always filled with boarders. Hot 
 Graham gems and a cup of fragrant, yellow coffee for 
 supper will prove a great innovation upon bakers’ toast 
 and weak, sloppy tea. It will require more labor and 
 forethought, but when that woman wants to sell the 
 good will of the business she will realize its full value 
 in dollars and cents, and she will never need to adver- 
 tise for boarders. A mechanics’ boarding house fre- 
 quently pays better than the aristocratic one which has 
 a high rent and much style to contend with. Clean beds 
 and a good table are the principal requisites; the cook- 
 ing good but plain. The men usually have good appe- 
 tites and make a vigorous attack on the substantials, 
 
Q74 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and care more for quantity than quality. They have 
 been used to homes, and like the landlady to preside in 
 the dining room and look after their comfort herself, and 
 they are usually good pay. In all large cities where 
 rent is high, a few boarders are taken in the family to 
 help out. It is not, as a general thing, pleasant to board 
 in a private family where the boarder is one of them- 
 selves and has ‘‘ all the comforts of a home.’ It means 
 going without fire in one’s room and feeling like an 
 intruder in the family circle—to taking pot-luck on 
 Mondays and Saturdays, and getting dinner down town 
 whenever the girl leaves or has the sulks. There is also 
 a certain amount of patronage bestowed on the family 
 boarder, who is made to feel the great privilege of being 
 received into the bosom of so highly respected a family, 
 ‘who only take boarders for company. This method of 
 doing business is as silly as the announcement of the 
 young man who desires to enter a home where his society 
 will be an equivalent for his board. Boarders are not 
 guests. If they could not pay for the privilege of being 
 one of the family they would soon be required to leave. 
 
 Business principles should control in this matter. If 
 the boarder grows into the family and finds a place in 
 the regard of its members, it will be the happy result 
 of good sense and congeniality between them, and thrice 
 happy is the wayworn wanderer who finds such a haven 
 of rest. 
 
 The ideal boarding house is the one where the land- 
 lady has no time to gossip about her boarders; where 
 she does not assume the management of their domestic 
 affairs; where the elements of tattling and backbiting 
 
 q 
 ’ 
 : 
 
KEEPING BOARDERS. 275 
 
 never gain entrance; in short, where a community of 
 ladies and gentlemen manage their housekeeping on the 
 co-operative plan and meet at one common table, where 
 they can enjoy each other’s company socially. Every 
 Toom is a home—a castle to its temporary owner. The 
 landlady is the queen of the realm, and she needs to be 
 wise and gracious in her rule if she would have loyal 
 subjects. 
 Much has been said about the lack of home comfort in 
 a boarding house, and the meagre furniture of rooms 
 offered for inspection. But it remains for the boarder 
 who takes possession to transform the bare room into a 
 home, to magnetize the walls with an atmosphere of love 
 and contentment. The landlady who furnishes her house 
 does not know whom she is furnishing for, what style of 
 chairs and sofas the new comers would prefer, or if she 
 may not be obliged to hustle her own furniture into the 
 attic to make room for the household goods of the new 
 boarders. It is desirable that the room should be clean 
 —thoroughly clean, and the bed in good order—plenty 
 of towels and fresh water, and a cake of genuine soap. 
 Any attempt at parsimony will be a bad stroke of policy 
 to begin with. As heaven has never yet been realized 
 upon earth, it would be vain to look for it even in the 
 ideal boarding house, the projector of which has an 
 ; urgent need of dollars and cents as a basis on which to 
 found it. The only way in which she can realize success 
 is to conduct it on the best business system, making her 
 labor yield a fair profit. There is no doubt that there is 
 money in it. 
 
—8CHAPTER XXVIIL@ 
 
 Ofory % of * a % Oummer * Jdcoarder. 
 
 OEN TOA 
 
 rye? T was a scandal,” the neighbors 
 ¢ said, ‘that Miss Delia should be 
 Sze, obliged to take boarders, after all 
 7 she’d been through; and Heaven 
 <4 knows, boarders did not help a 
 oy body to work out her salvation. 
 And so much money in the fam- 
 é 3 ily, too, taking it by small and large. Wasn’t 
 wy her uncle Eben, over at Dover, well-to do, and 
 3 iE not a chick of his own to care for except the 
 : V3 boy he had adopted, who was no credit to 
 RWN72 him? It was odd, now, that a man with poor 
 relations should take to a stranger when his 
 © own flesh and blood was needy; but some- 
 
 : times it does seem as if folks had more feel- 
 
 ing for others than for their own kith and kin. Then 
 there were cousins in the city, forehanded and fashion- 
 able, who were never worth a row of pins to Delia, and 
 there was her great-uncle John’s widow a-larkin’ on the. 
 continent, a-gamin’ at Baden-Baden, and trying the 
 waters of every mineral spring in the three kingdoms, 
 
 for no disease under the sun but old age. She had been 
 276 . 
 
acy dip edie ser ee ae ee eee. 
 ~ ee . 
 
 STORY OF A SUMMER BOARDER. 277 
 
 known to say that her folks were too rich already, and 
 probably she would endow some hospital with her prop- 
 erty.’’ Evidently, wealthy relatives were of no value 
 to Miss Delia. Tio be sure, she had never seen her 
 great-aunt since she was a child, when her uncle John 
 
 had brought her into their simple life for a month’s 
 
 visit, with her French maid and dresses, her jewels and 
 fallals, which won the heart of her namesake. Since 
 then uncle John’s widow had become a sort of gilded 
 creation, always young and beautiful; for, though Delia 
 had received little gifts from time to time across the seas 
 for the last fifteen years, she had neither heard nor seen 
 anything of the being who had inspired her youthful 
 imagination, and was quite uncertain if such a person as 
 Mrs. John Rogerson was in the land of the living. Dead 
 or alive, she seemed to have made no material difference 
 to Delia’s humdrum life. After having nursed her father 
 through a long sickness, Delia found that he had left a 
 heavy mortgage on the homestead, and her mother and 
 herself on the high road to the poorhouse, unless they 
 should bestir themselves. As her mother was already 
 bedridden, the stirring naturally fell upon Delia, and 
 she advertised for summer boarders: 
 
 Ess BOARD in the country near the river side, at $7 
 aweek. Large chambers, broad piazzas, fine views, ber- 
 Ties and new milk. One mile from the station. 
 
 Address DELIA ROGERSON, 
 Croftsborough, Me, 
 
 ‘Cheap enough!’ commented an elderly lady who 
 happened uponit. ‘‘Delia Rogerson. An old maid, lL 
 
278 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 suppose, obliged to look out for herself. DPvea good 
 mind to try her broad piazzas and new milk. If I don’t 
 like it there’ll be no harm done.”’ 
 
 And so Delia’s first boarder arrived—an old lady with 
 false front hair, brown wrinkled skin, faded eyes, a black 
 alpaca gown and a hair trunk. Delia made her as wel- 
 come as if she had been a duchess; lighted a fire in Mrs. 
 Clement’s room, as the night was damp, and brought out 
 her daintiest cup and saucer, with the fadeless old roses 
 wreathing them. ‘‘ Wonderfully kind,’ reflected Mrs. 
 Clement, as she combed out her wisps of gray hair and 
 confided the false front to a box. ‘*‘ Wonderful kind- 
 ness for $7 a week. She’s new ta the trade. She'll 
 learn better. Human nature doesn’t change with lati- 
 tudes. She’ll find it doesn’t pay to consider the com- 
 forts of a poverty-stricken old creature.’’ But in spite 
 of her worldly wisdom, Mrs. Clement was forced to con- 
 fess that Delia had begun as she meant to hold out, 
 though other boarders came to demand her attention 
 and to multiply her cares. The fret and jar of conflict- 
 ing temperaments under her roof was a new experience 
 to Delia. When Mrs. Griscome complained of the mos- 
 quitoes, with an air as if Miss Rogerson were responsible 
 for their creation; of flies, as if they were new acquaint- 
 ances; of want of appetite, as though Delia had agreed 
 to supply it along with berries and new milk; of the 
 weather, as if she had pledged herself there would be 
 no sudden changes to annoy her boarders; of the shabby 
 
 house and antiquated furniture, ‘‘too old for comfort, © 
 
 and not old enough for fashion’’—then Delia doubted if 
 
 taking boarders was her mission. ‘‘What makes you ~ 
 
 c, Eee Tee =e 
 2a ee ee ne 
 
STORY OF A SUMMER BOARDER. _ 279 
 
 keep us, my dear?’ asked Mrs. Clement, after a day 
 when everything and everybody had seemed to go 
 wrong. ‘‘Why didn’t you ever marry? You had a 
 lover, I dare say ?’ 
 
 ‘* Yes, a long, long time ago.”’ 
 
 ‘*Tell me about him—it?’’ 
 
 ‘‘There isn’t much to tell. He asked me to marry 
 him. He was going to Australia. I couldn’t leave 
 father and mother, you know (they were both feeble), 
 and he couldn’t stay here. That’s all.’ 
 
 ‘“‘ And you—you ?’. 
 
 ‘* Now all men beside are to me like shadows.”’ 
 
 ‘* And have you never heard of him since?’ 
 
 “Yes. He wrote; but where was the use? It could 
 never come to anything. It was better for him to forget 
 me and marry. I was a millstone about his neck. I 
 didn’t answer his letter.”’ 
 
 ‘And supposing he should return some day, would 
 you marry him?’ 
 
 ‘“‘I dare say,’ laughed Delia, gently, as if the idea 
 were familiar, ‘‘let the neighbors laugh ever so wisely, 
 Tve thought of it sometimes sitting alone, when the 
 world was barren and commonplace. One must have 
 recreation of some kind, you know. Everybody requires 
 a little romance, a little poetry, to flavor everyday think- 
 ing and doing. I am afraid noe think me a silly old 
 maid, Mrs. Clement.’’ 
 
 ‘‘No. The heart never grows old. The skin shriv- 
 els, the color departs, the eyes fade, the features grow 
 pinched; but the soul is heir of eternal youth—it is as 
 beautiful at fourscore as at ‘sweet twenty.’ Time 
 
280 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 makes amends for the ravages of the body by develop- | 
 
 ing the spirit. You didn’t tell me your lover's name. 
 Perhaps you would rather not.”’ 
 
 ‘‘His name was Stephen Langdon. Sometimes Capt. 
 Seymour runs against him in Melbourne, and brings me 
 word how he looks and what he is doing, though I never 
 ask, and Stephen never asks for me that I can hear.”’ 
 
 Delia’s summer boarders were not a success, to be 
 sure. If they took no money out of her pocket, they 
 put none in. She was obliged to eke out her support by 
 copying for lawyer Dunmore, and embroidering for Mrs. 
 Judge Door. One by one her boarders dropped away 
 like autumn leaves; all but old Mrs. Clement. 
 
 ‘T believe Pll stay on,’’ she said. ‘‘T’’m getting too 
 old to move often. Perhaps you take winter boarders 
 at reduced rates. Eh?’ 
 
 ‘*Do you think my rates high ?’ 
 
 ‘“By nomeans. But when one’s purse is low—”’ 
 
 ‘‘Yes; I know. Dostay at your own price. I can’t 
 spare you.’’ She had grown such a fondness for the old 
 lady that to refuse her at her own terms would have 
 seemed like turning her own mother out of doors; 
 besides, one mouth more would not signify. But she 
 found it hard to make both ends meet, and often went 
 to bed hungry, that her mother and Mrs. Clement might 
 enjoy enough, without there appearing to be ‘‘just a 
 pattern.”’ At Christmas, however, came a ray of sun- 
 shine for Delia, in the shape of a $100 bill from an 
 unknown friend. 
 
 ‘‘Tt can’t be meant for me,’’ she cried. 
 
 ‘It’s directed to Delia Rogerson,” said her mother; 
 
STORY OF A SUMMER BOARDER. 281 
 
 ‘‘and there’s nobody else of that name, now that your 
 Aunt Delia’s dead.”’ 
 
 ‘* We are not sure she’s dead,”’ objected Delia. 
 
 **Horrors! Don’t you know whether your aunt is 
 dead or alive?’ asked Mrs. Clement, in a shocked tone. 
 
 ‘‘Tt isn’t our fault. She is rich and lives abroad. I 
 was named for her. I used to look in the glass and try 
 to believe I'd inherit her beauty with the name, though 
 she was only our great-uncle’s wife.”’ 
 
 ‘* She ought to be doing something for you.”’ 
 
 ‘‘How can she if she is dead? I don’t blame her, any- 
 way. Her money is her own, to use according to her 
 pleasure. Uncle John made it himself and gave it to 
 her.”’ 
 
 ‘*But if she should come back to you, having run 
 through with it, you’d divide your last crust with her, 
 Pll be bound.’’ 
 
 ‘*T suppose I should,’”’ replied Delia. 
 
 The winter wore away as winters will, and the mira- 
 cles of spring began in fields and wayside, and Delia’s 
 boarders returned with the June roses, and dropped 
 away again with the falling leaves, and still Mrs. Cle- 
 ment stayed on. Just now she had been some weeks in 
 arrears with her reduced board. No money had been 
 forthcoming for some time, and she was growing more 
 feeble daily, needed the luxuries of an invalid and the 
 ‘attention of a nurse, both of which Delia bestowed upon 
 her, without taking thought of the morrow. 
 
 “‘T must hear from my man-of-business to-morrow, 
 Delia; I’m knee-deep in debt to you,’’ she began one 
 night. 
 
282 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘* Don’t mention it,’ cried Delia. ‘‘I’d rather never 
 see a cent of it than have you take it to heart. You are 
 welcome to stay and share pot-luck with us, 100 are 
 such company for mother and me.”’ 
 
 ‘“Thank you, my dear. Ive grown as fond of you as 
 if you were my own flesh and blood. There, turn down 
 the light. Draw the curtain, dear, and put another stick 
 on the fire, please. It grows chilly, doesn’t it? You 
 might kiss me just once, if you wouldn't mind. It’s 
 one hundred years or so since any one kissed me.’’ 
 
 And next morning when Delia carried up Mrs. Cle- 
 ment’s breakfast her boarder lay cold and still upon the 
 pulows. 
 
 The first shock over, Delia wrote to the lawyer of 
 whom she had heard Mrs. Clement speak as having 
 charge of her affairs, begging him to notify that lady’s 
 relatives, if she had any. In reply, Mr. Wills wrote: 
 
 ‘‘The late Mrs. Clement appears to have no near rela- 
 tives. Some distant cousins, who have an abundance of 
 the world’s goods, yet served her shabbily when she 
 tested their generosity as she has tried yours, are all 
 that remain of her family. In the meantime I enclose 
 you a copy of her last will and testament, to peruse at 
 your leisure.” 
 
 ‘What interest does he think I take in Mrs. Clement’s 
 will,”’ thought Delia, but she read, nevertheless: 
 
 Being of sound mind, this, the 16th day of June, 18—, 
 I, Delia Rogerson Clement, do hereby leave $100 to each 
 of my cousins; and I bequeath the residue of my prop- 
 
 erty, viz., $30,000 invested in the Ingot Mining Com- 
 
 pany, $50,000 in United States bonds, $20,000 in the For- 
 
STORY OF A SUMMER BOARDER. 283 
 
 tunate Flannel Mills, and my jewels, to the beloved 
 niece of my first husband, John Rogerson, Delia Roger- 
 son, of Croftsborough, Me. 
 
 For I was a stranger and ye took me in; hungry, and 
 ye fed me; sick and ye ministered unto me. 
 
 ‘* Goodness alive !’’ cried the neighbors, when the fact 
 reached their ears, ‘‘ what a profitable thing it is to take 
 boarders. Everybody in town will be trying it. Of 
 course Steve Langdon will come and marry her, if she 
 were forty old maids. You may stick a pin in there!”’ 
 
 Delia did not open her house to boarders the next sea- 
 son. She found enough to do in looking after her money 
 and spending it; in replying to letters from indigent peo- 
 ple, who seemed to increase alarmingly; in receiving old 
 friends, who suddenly found time to remember her exist- 
 ence. And, sure enough, among the rest appeared Steve 
 Langdon, and all the village said: ‘‘I told you so.” 
 
 *Tt’s not my fault that you and I are single yet, 
 Delia,’”’ he said. 
 
 ** And we are too old to think of it now, Steve.”’ 
 
 ‘Nonsense! It’s never too late to mend. I’m not 
 rich, Delia, but I’ve enough for two and to spare.”’ 
 
 ‘‘T wouldn’t be contented not to drive in my carriage 
 and have servants under me now,”’ laughed Delia. 
 
 ‘“Indeed! Then, perhaps, you have a better match in 
 view. Capt. Seymour asked me, by the way, if I had 
 come to interfere with Squire Jones’ interest.”’ 
 
 ‘* Yes, Squire Jones proposed to me last week.”’ 
 
 ‘“ Now, see here, Delia. Have I come all the way from 
 Melbourne on a fool’s errand? There I was growing used 
 to my misery and loneliness, when the mail brings mea 
 
284 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 letter in a strange hand, which tells me that my dear 
 love, Delia Rogerson, loves and dreams of me still, is 
 poor and alone, and needs me—me! And the letter is 
 signed by her aunt, Mrs. Clement, who ought to know. 
 I packed my household goods and came.”’ 
 
 ‘Pm glad that you did.”’ 
 
 ‘¢In order that I may congratulate ‘Squire Jones ? ”’ 
 
 ‘‘But I haven’t accepted him. In fact, ?ve refused 
 him—because—because—’”’ 
 
 ‘Because you will marry your old love, like the lass 
 in the song, Delia ?’ 
 
 In Croftsborough, people are not yet tired of telling 
 how a woman made money by taking boarders. 
 
=CHAPTER XXVIIL= 
 
 The * Value - of : Personal ‘ Slppearance. 
 
 YOUNG woman entering upon a 
 be business life must ask and answer 
 224 one question almost at its outset: 
 ® ‘Shall she go into society or not?’ 
 iN, ,, By society I mean the parties, 
 tat weddings, receptions, dinners, and 
 ““~ lunches, which make up the exist- 
 
 4 ence of merely fashionable women. If she has 
 a large and influential acquaintance she will 
 necessarily be invited out a great many times, 
 
 :: i she will be obliged to dress correspondingly 
 ae well, and her dress will naturally demand 
 some time and attention, as well as a good 
 deal of money. Social life, parties and balls 
 will keep her up late at night and tax her strength, and 
 the question to herself will be, whether she will be able 
 to meet the demands of society and of business, and pre- 
 serve her health? Here, again, the frequent theory of 
 women’s ability to overwork intrudes itself. There can 
 be no possible doubt that if she is engaged eight hours a 
 285 
 
286 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 day, in any kind of work, she will do better to ignore 
 society, and rest in the evenings; but if 
 
 All work and no play 
 
 Makes Jack a dull boy, 
 will it not apply equally well to Jill? Only Jack has 
 the strength and Jill has not. 
 
 A compromise can be made by going out occasionally, 
 and not attempting to compete with the women who have 
 nothing to do, and by not keeping excessively late hours. 
 One rich, dark silk, made with an evening waist and 
 worn with a change of laces and flowers, a cream- 
 white dotted muslin and an illusion over-dress will be 
 all sufficient for a season, with a supply of fresh gloves, 
 and will look much better, even if worn frequently, than 
 a new, cheap, hastily gotten together evening dress. 
 When there is only one silk it should be either black or 
 a dark olive or blue, as a vivid, new color will be so con- 
 spicuous that the wearer will soon be known by it, 
 and there will be some one ill-natured enough to say, 
 ‘*There goes that everlasting sunflower yellow silk of 
 Miss ——’s.’’ Black can be worn with masses of pink 
 garniture, upon one occasion, with pink gloves; with white 
 upon another with white gloves; with masses of mixed 
 flowers and deep orange gloves; and it will always look 
 handsome. Then it can be a dead black toilet—quanti- 
 ties of black lace, black gloves, and coral or gold jew- 
 elry as an effect. One of the most elegant toilets 1 ever 
 saw was a black silk, draped and trimmed with water 
 lilies, and worn with pale green gloves that reached 
 above the elbows. It is by no means the expense of a 
 costume that makes it elegant. There are hundreds of 
 
THE VALUE OF PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 287 
 
 dowdy women at parties who are elaborately dressed 
 and loaded with diamonds, and there are ladies who are 
 regally beautiful in severely plain toilets. Some ladies 
 need very little adornment. This is especially the case 
 with young women who have dark hair and eyes, and a 
 fresh color. Ifthey wear much jewelry, or dress in high 
 colors, they are at once commented on with unfriendly 
 criticism. Miss Oakey, who is an authority on beauty 
 in dress, and the author of a book with that title, says: 
 ‘““The object of dress may be said to be threefold—to 
 cover, to warm, to beautify. Beauty in dress, as in 
 other things, is largely relative.’’ To admit this, is to 
 admit that a dress which is beautiful upon one woman 
 may be hideous worn by another. Each should under- 
 stand her own style, accept it, and let the fashion of her 
 dress be built upon it. Because my dark, slender friend 
 looks well in a heavy velvet with a high ruff, her rival, 
 who is short and blonde, tries to outshine her in a heavier 
 velvet, with a higher ruff. It is reason enough that the 
 last should look ill in the dress, because the first looks 
 well in it. 
 ELOQUENCE OF DRESS. 
 
 Not every woman can dress well with the most reck- 
 less expenditure; but a clever woman can dress well with 
 intelligent economy and an artistic taste. Let women 
 remember that it is harmony of color and grace of cut 
 that makes a dress beautiful, and its fitness to the style 
 and needs of the wearer, not richness of material or cost- 
 liness of ornament. No material is more beautiful than 
 a cashmere, which is one of the most truly economic 
 dresses that one can wear, as it both washes and dyes, 
 
288 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 without loss of beauty, and wears well and long. The 
 dress should always be harmonious with one’s surround- 
 ings. Sometimes a woman is more elegant in a plain 
 dress, when a richer dress, being out of place, would be 
 vulgar. Let the dress be so simply an expression of the 
 woman that she is unconscious of it when she has put it 
 on. Let the thinking come before the dressing. Thus, 
 alone, can she be harmonious, and possess the graceful 
 attributes that form the highest beauty. 
 
 Another high authority on all that pertains to the well 
 being of true womanhood, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, thus 
 writes: 
 
 “Tf dress can heighten the whole sense of what is really beau- 
 tiful in womanhood, it is certainly a power, and a great one. 
 Surely, one of the first conditions to this end would be, that 
 dress should represent womanly reserve. It should clothe, not 
 disguise or deform. The lines of beauty should be preserved— 
 colors should be modest beside the coloring of nature. Let no 
 glaring tints disturb the harmony of the delicately-blended 
 lines. The gold ina young girl’s hair, the evanescent roses in 
 her cheeks, glowing and paling with the rhythm of her pulse, is 
 a silent eloquence, or, rather, a light-and-shadow utterance. 
 Never profane or frizzle the one out of all color, or place beside 
 the other any brilliant ornament which can conflict with its per- 
 fect charm.” 
 
 Every year that a woman lives the more pains she 
 should take with her dress. The dress of elderly ladies 
 ought to be more of a science than it is. How often one 
 hears a woman of fifty say, ‘‘ Oh, my dressing days are 
 past; when, if she thought about it, they have only 
 well begun. At least, the time has come when dress is 
 
THE VALUE OF PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 289 
 
 more to her than ever. Remember, that from forty to 
 sixty-five is a quarter of a century—the third of a long 
 life. It is the period through which the majority of 
 grown-up people pass. And yet how little pride women 
 take—how little thought beforehand—to be charming 
 then. 
 
 THE OTHER EXTREME. 
 
 But she must be equally careful to avoid a foolish 
 assumption of youth, which will be even more unbecom- 
 ing. The well-known saying, that a woman is no older 
 than she looks, amiable and consoling as it is, has not 
 been altogether harmless. Acting upon this assump- 
 tion, and losing sight of the eternal fitness of things, 
 many a woman has arrayed herself in a manner which is 
 not only entirely unbecoming to her face, but has a ten- 
 dency to make her ridiculous. Who has not trembled 
 for a friend when the mania seized her to color her hair; 
 and then, as her good sense admonished her never to do 
 it again, walked trembling by her side while she wore 
 the changing hues from black to greenish white; and 
 who does not rejoice at the decree which makes it pos- 
 sible for gray hair to be not only honorable, but beauti- 
 ful and fashionable also? There are other things which 
 need the strong light of common sense thrown upon 
 them—the colors chosen for dresses, the style of the 
 hats and bonnets, the dressing for the neck demand 
 attention. What a pity it is that women with thin 
 faces and necks do not understand the softening effect of 
 lace—white next the throat and black outside of that. 
 Plain, rich dresses emphasize the grace which should, at 
 fifty, ye even more admirable than at twenty-five or 
 
290 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 thirty. One is disposed to wonder at, if not to criticize, 
 Thackeray severely for making Henry Esmond marry 
 Lady Castlewood, whose daughter was his first love; 
 and he is pardoned only when we remember that her 
 lovely character and the beauty of her face are repre- 
 sented as existing without the aid of those artificial 
 appliances which disfigure some women even at the 
 present day, when good sense is the rule and not the 
 exception. The ‘‘eternal fitness of things’’ should be 
 studied by every woman; and she might make a sort of 
 golden text of this sentence. No woman looks so old as 
 one who tries to look young. The little girl who tries 
 on her mother’s apron, and so has a long dress in front, 
 and the traditional ostrich which hides its head in the 
 sand, are not more absurd than the woman who per- 
 suades herself at forty that she looks eighteen. If she 
 would only stop a moment and reason with herself, she 
 would know that she is infinitely more handsome as she 
 is. Would she exchange the lines of intelligence, of 
 thought, of knowledge, for the mere simper of youth? 
 Her face that has bent over the cradled babe night after 
 night has the holy seal of motherhood to beautify it; the 
 eyes that have looked into the faces of the dying have a 
 tender light in their depths; love has glorified the quiv- 
 ering mouth with its sacred pathos; the faded complex- 
 ion is lighted by the immortal glow of life’s western sky. 
 
 ‘« Would you be young again? 
 So would not I; 
 One tear to memory given, 
 Onward we hie. 
 
THE VALUE OF PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 291 
 
 Life’s dark stream forded o’er, | 
 
 Almost at rest on shore. 
 
 Say, would you plunge once more, 
 With home so nigh?” 
 
 There are some old ladies who are grandly beautiful. 
 I recall such a one, with snowy white hair, dressed fash- 
 jonably; with a rich, black velvet dress, and masses of 
 real old lace and blonde at the throat. And when she 
 went to parties she wore pink roses in her hair and in 
 her bosom, and to some one who criticized her she said: 
 ““Did you-never hear how the roses grow over old ruins, 
 showing the triumph of nature over art?’ and went on 
 her way with stately step and a sad, sweet smile on her 
 grand, old face. 
 
 Some writer has said that a woman’s power in the 
 world is measured by her power to please. Whatever 
 she may wish to accomplish she will best manage it by 
 pleasing. A woman’s grand social aim should be to 
 please. And let me tell you how thatistobedone. A 
 woman can please the eye by her appearance, her dress, 
 her face, her figure. A plain woman can never be pretty. 
 She can always be fascinating, if she takes pains. I well 
 remember a man, who was a great admirer of our sex, 
 telling me that one of the most fascinating women he 
 had ever met with was not only not pretty, but, as to 
 her face, decidedly plain—ugly, only the word is rude. 
 How, then, did she fascinate? I well remember his 
 reply: ‘‘Her figure,” said he, ‘‘was neat, her dressing 
 was faultless, her every movement was graceful, her 
 conversation was clever and animated, and she always 
 tried to please. It was not I alone who called her fas- 
 
992 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 cinating. She was one of the most acceptable women in 
 society I ever knew. She married brilliantly, and her 
 husband, a lawyer in large practice, was much devoted 
 to her. 
 
 A BUSINESS DRESS. 
 
 Much has been said about a distinctive dress for ladies 
 who are engaged in business pursuits, but as the sister- 
 hood has never taken kindly to a uniform, and there is a 
 more definite style about the individual in the ranks of 
 women than in those of men, it would be hard to decide 
 on any one particular costume that will please all. 
 Some little black-eyed, trim-figured woman will sheath 
 herself in a neat-fitting black dress, with a segment of 
 white linen at the neck and cuffs, cover her smooth hair 
 with a close Turban hat, draw on a pair of dog-skin 
 gloves, and look essentially refined and lady-like, while 
 another in the same suit would be intolerably loud and 
 ungraceful in appearance. Water-proofs, Ulsters, gos- 
 samers, and similar garments are worn almost universally 
 on the street, but in shops, offices, the school-room, and 
 other commercial resorts where women are to be found, 
 the dress will remain a matter of individual taste. Cus- 
 tom makes laws as irrevocable as those of legislatures, 
 and the time has not yet come, possibly never will, when 
 a girl can snatch her hat from its nail and get out into 
 the open air as quickly as her brother. There must 
 necessarily be certain restrictions of sex, and no amount 
 of reform will change the laws of nature. The matter is 
 already simplified by the short, scant dress, and the 
 absence of trails, hoops, and bustles, and it is to be 
 hoped these will never be resumed to such an extent by 
 
THE VALUE OF PERSONAL APPEARANOE. 293 
 
 our fashionable women that the others will feel obliged 
 to adopt them. The working dress of American ladies 
 to-day is a happy compromise between the despotic 
 fashions of a court and the severe bigotry of a reform 
 costume of the coat and trowsers pattern. The absence 
 of voluminous skirts of white goods, starched and fluted, 
 is not to be deplored, when a single yoked garment, 
 depending from the shoulder, can happily replace them. 
 A dark, neat color, such as navy blue, or a rich brown, 
 in a soft woolen goods that drapes artistically, and fol- 
 lows the outlines of the form in classic folds, is prefer- 
 able to the wash lawns and percales of the past, and saves 
 much time and money over laundrying, etc. ‘Thus one 
 vexed question has adjusted itself, and we will not ask 
 whether it came through the reformer or the fashion 
 inventor; it is enough to know that a woman can dress 
 prettily and in accordance with the laws of health at the 
 same time, and that time is the present. 
 
 DRESS REFORMERS. 
 
 Miss Oakey voices the opinion of all sensible women 
 when she says, in one of her essays: ‘‘It appears to us 
 that the failure of the ‘dress reformers’ to find accept- 
 ance, except at the hands of a few enthusiasts, arises 
 from two causes: First. That their object has no rela- 
 tion to beauty; and, secondly, because they defeat their 
 own purpose by a superficial knowledge of the true for- 
 mation of the body. A dress reform that opposes itself 
 to beauty, deserves to be stamped out by every reason- 
 able woman in the land, just as a fashion that, in its 
 blind search for beauty, destroys the most beautiful 
 
294 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 work of the Creator, deserves the same fate. The 
 human being was meant to be beautiful. It is always 
 an accident or mistake, or blind or willful disregard of 
 the laws of nature when the human being is ugly as an 
 individual or asarace. The highest beauty is elevating 
 and refining in its influence on the individual and on the 
 home. It is the natural object of the desire of human- 
 ity- The infant, who can not speak, delights init. The 
 most cultured man uses it to express his highest aspira- 
 tion. The Creator sows it broadcast over nature. Even 
 the dumb animals have some sense of it; and here starts 
 up a little band of ‘reformers,’ so-called, doubtless as 
 sincere as they are misguided, and they say that beauty 
 is a mistake, a delusion, and a snare; that what we shall 
 seek is use—simply use—as if, forsooth, use and beauty 
 were at war with each other. We might say that use 
 demands beauty almost, though we can not reverse the 
 saying, and assert that beauty demands use, for ‘beauty 
 is its own excuse for being,’ our wise and honored sage 
 has said in one of his deepest moments; and yet this 
 beauty, that exists as it were for very pleasure, has, per- 
 haps, the highest use—that of lifting us for the time 
 quite out of all doctrines of expediency, and floating us 
 in the purely ideal world.’’ 
 
 Emerson wrote of Margaret Fuller: ‘‘She was always 
 dressed neatly and becoming.’”’ Even a philosopher, 
 writing of so eminent a woman as Miss Fuller, could 
 remember that. The fact is, that the more prominently 
 a woman is before the world, or in any kind of semi- 
 public work, such as a professional and literary life 
 really is, the more scrupulously should she insist on per- 
 fect taste of toilet. 
 
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 “WHERE IS YOUR HOME?” “WHERE MOTHER IS.” 
 
—@CHAPTER XXIX.3- 
 
 The ° King dom #of Home. 
 
 ‘* Domestic Happiness, thou only bliss 
 Of Paradise that has survived the fall.” 
 
 Our wives are as comely 
 And our home is still home, be it ever so homely.” 
 —Dibdin. 
 
 N speaking of his home to a friend, 
 a child was asked, ‘‘ Where is your 
 home?’ Looking with loving eyes 
 at his mother, he replied, ‘‘ Where 
 mother is.’’ 
 
 ‘‘ Home,”’ says a celebrated divine, 
 ‘‘should be the center of joy, equa- 
 
 : Ee torial and tropical. A man’s house should 
 
 VatZAS be on the hill-top of cheerfulness and serenity 
 
 7 ere so high that no shadows rest upon it, and 
 
 \, where the morning comes so early and the 
 Ye evening tarries so late that the day has twice 
 
 as many golden hours as those of other men. 
 
 He is to be pitied whose house is in some 
 
 valley of grief between the hills, with the 
 longest night and the shortest day.”’ 
 
 It is the woman in the house who makes the home, 
 295 ; 
 
296 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 not always an easy or a comfortable task to do, but most 
 satisfactory when accomplished. 
 
 THE INFLUENCE OF THE WIFE AND MOTHER 
 
 in the domestic world is unquestioned, her sway is 
 absolute; she can make all who come within her reach 
 happy and contented or she can render them misera- 
 ble. She can rule with an iron rod or lead with a 
 silken string. ‘‘ When you want to get the grandest 
 idea of a queen,’’ says a modern writer, ‘‘ you do not 
 think of Catherine of Russia, or of Anne of England, 
 or of Marie Theresa of Germany ; but when you want to 
 get your grandest idea of a queen you think of the plain 
 woman who sat opposite your father at the table, or 
 walked with him arm-in-arm down life’s pathway, some- 
 times to the thanksgiving banquet, sometimes to the 
 grave, but always together—soothing your petty griefs, 
 correcting your childish waywardness, joining in your 
 infantile sports, listening to your evening prayers, toil- 
 ing for you with needle or at the spinning-wheel, and on 
 cold nights wrapping you up snug and warm. And then 
 at last, on that day when she lay in the back room 
 dying, and you saw her take those thin hands with 
 which she had toiled for you so long and put them 
 together in a dying prayer that commended you to the 
 God whom she had taught you to trust—oh, she was the 
 queen! The chariots of God came down to fetch her, 
 and as she went in all heaven rose up. You cannot 
 think of her now without a rush of tenderness that stirs 
 the deep foundations of your soul, and you feel as much 
 a child again as when you cried on her lap; and if you 
 
THE KINGDOM OF HOME. 297 
 
 could bring her back again to speak just once more your 
 name as tenderly as she used to speak it, you would be 
 willing to throw yourself on the ground and kiss the sod 
 that covers her, crying, ‘Mother! Mother!’ Ah, she 
 was the queen! She was the queen !”’ 
 
 AN IDEAL WOMAN, 
 
 She was my peer; 
 
 No weakling girl, who would surrender will 
 And life and reason, with her loving heart, 
 
 To her possessor; no soft, clinging thing 
 ‘Who would find breath alone within the arms 
 Of a strong master, and obediently 
 
 Wait on his will in slavish carefulness; 
 
 No fawning, cringing spaniel to attend 
 
 His royal pleasure, and account herself 
 Rewarded by his pats and pretty words; 
 
 But a sound woman, who, with insight keen, 
 Had wrought a scheme of life, and measured well 
 Her womanhood; had spread before her feet 
 
 A fine philosophy to guide her steps; 
 
 Had won a faith to which her life was brought 
 In strict adjustment—brain and heart meanwhile 
 Working in conscious harmony and rhythm 
 With the great scheme of God’s great universe 
 On toward her being’s end. 
 
 — Holland. 
 
 HOME EDUCATION. 
 
 Teach children to eat properly and speak correctly in 
 the home circle. Many a young man has gone out of his 
 father’s home into the world, who has been mortified 
 and embarrassed by the criticism of strangers on his 
 table manners and conversation. Children acquire a 
 habit of using slip-shod expressions, such as, ‘‘I ain’t 
 
298 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 got it,’ ‘“‘I don’t want nothing,’ of using the knife 
 instead of the fork ; of eating in a loud and noisy manner, 
 with their elbows extended as if they were birds feeding 
 on the wing; of making uncouth sounds in breathing, 
 and of acting in other careless ways which are exceed- 
 ingly annoying to older and well-bred people. These 
 are all indications of lack of home breeding. Parents 
 who have been neglected themselves in their early years 
 have no right to transmit their careless habits to their 
 children, or send them out into the world to learn in 
 manhood or womanhood the primary laws of social 
 ethics. It has been wisely said that education does not 
 begin with the alphabet. It commences with a mother’s 
 look, with a father’s nod of approval or his sign of 
 reproof; with a sister’s gentle pressure of the hand, ora 
 brother’s noble act of forbearance ; with a handful of 
 flowers in green and daisied meadows; with a bird’s 
 nest admired but not touched ; with pleasant walks in 
 shady lanes, and with thoughts directed, in sweet and 
 kindly tones and words, to nature, to beauty, to acts of 
 benevolence, to deeds of virtue. To every parent, to 
 every influential member of a household, there is com- 
 mitted a charge which can be shifted to no one else. 
 There can be no model system grafted upon the family 
 tree. The children of one family cannot be brought up 
 successfully by the same method. There must be kisses 
 for one and discipline for another. In this connection an 
 incident suggests itself. A mother of my acquaintance 
 had two little girls—one a healthy, strong child, without 
 nerves ; the other a delicate, sensitive, shrinking little 
 one, with a shy and timid nature. The mother had one 
 
THE KINGDOM OF HOME. 299 
 
 set of rules for the two children; they ate the same food, 
 and were sent to bed at exactly the same hour, immedi- 
 ately after a light supper. The younger and healthier 
 one went to sleep at once; the other begged for a light 
 to be kept burning, and when this was denied would be 
 found sitting in the passage-ways in a tremor of fright, 
 which no amount of reasoning would control. Cold 
 hands and feet and a burning head resulted. The doctor 
 was constantly in attendance upon the little one, who 
 could not go to school without getting a severe cold, 
 though both wore the same amount of clothing and were 
 equally well guarded from the weather. The mother 
 took counsel with herself, and wisely adopted a differ- 
 ent method of treatment with the child. She put her 
 bed in her own chamber, kept a night-lamp burning, and 
 sat in the room with the little girl telling her soothing 
 stories until she fell quietly to sleep. Believing that 
 her child’s interests were superior to all others, she 
 never allowed anything to interfere with her evening 
 work, until the time came when the little girl could be 
 safely left alone, her thoughts composed and her nerves 
 tranquil. Had the mother persisted in her first attempt 
 to bring up the two children on the same hygienic and 
 mental plans, one would probably have been a peevish 
 invalid for life, with impaired mental faculties. If it is 
 necessary for us to respect each other’s prejudices, how 
 much more important that we conciliate infirmities of 
 temperament which are so closely allied with our per- 
 sonal welfare. 
 HAPPY SLUMBERS. 
 
 There is one rule that it is always safe to enforce in 
 
300 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 the family—the rule of love which will send each child 
 to bed with a smile on its lips and peace in its heart. 
 Fretful mothers have much to excuse them, for there is 
 an accumulation of work and responsibility in the home, 
 of which they bear the chief burden, but it will pay 
 them infinitely well in the end to send the children to 
 bed happy. They will be more tractable and useful in 
 the morning; they will have happier memories of their 
 childhood when they have gone out from the home nest 
 into the world, and they will enshrine in their hearts, as 
 household saints, the mothers who gave them a good- 
 night kiss with smiles and benedictions every night of 
 their young lives. Mothers seem to think often that 
 childhood is eternal—that the little one will always be 
 there to kiss and caress; but it is inevitable that the 
 child is with us but a few years, and the mother who 
 neglected the opportunity of going into the next room 
 to press the rosy cheek with a good-night kiss, sits alone 
 and asks in sadness and solitude, ‘‘ Where is my boy 
 to-night?’ ‘‘ Where is my girl to-night ?”’ 
 
 THE VALUE OF ‘‘ MOTHER.’’ 
 
 A father, talking to his careless daughter, said: “I 
 want to speak to you of your mother. It may be that 
 you have noticed a careworn look upon her face lately. 
 Of course, it has not been brought there by any act of 
 yours, but still it is your duty to chase it away. I want 
 you to get up to-morrow morning and get breakfast; and 
 when your mother comes and begins to express her sur- 
 prise, go right up and kiss her on the cheek. You can’t 
 imagine how it will brighten her dear face. Besides, 
 
/ eee 
 me ei 
 
 THE KINGDOM OF HOME. 301 
 
 you owe her a kiss or two. Away back, when you were 
 a little girl, she kisséd you when no one else was tempted 
 by your fever-tainted breath and swollen face. You 
 were not as attractive then as you are now. And 
 through those years of childish sunshine and shadows 
 she was always ready to cure, by the magic of a mother’s 
 kiss, the little dirty, chubby hands whenever they were 
 injured in those first skirmishes with the rough old 
 world. And then the midnight kiss with which she 
 routed so many bad dreams, as she leaned above your 
 restless pillow, have all been on interest these long, long 
 years. Of course, she is not so pretty and kissable as 
 you are; but if you had done your share of work during 
 the last ten years the contrast would not be so marked. 
 Her face has more wrinkles than yours, far more, and 
 yet if you were sick that face would appear more beau- 
 tiful than an angel’s as it hovered over you, watching 
 every opportunity to minister to your comfort, and 
 every one of those wrinkles would seem to be bright 
 wavelets of sunshine chasing each other over the dear 
 face. She will leave you one of these days. These bur- 
 dens, if not lifted from her shoulders, will break her 
 down. Those rough, hard hands, that have done so 
 many necessary things for you, will be crossed upon her 
 lifeless breast. Those neglected lips, that gave you your 
 first baby kiss, will be forever closed, and those sad, 
 tired eyes will have opened in eternity, and then you 
 will appreciate your mother ; but it will be too late.”’ 
 
 MY MOTHER’S HYMN. 
 
 Like patient saint of olden time, 
 With lovely face almost divine, 
 
302 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 So good, so beautiful and fair, 
 Her very attitude a prayer: - 
 I heard her sing so low and sweet, 
 ‘‘ His loving-kindness—oh, how great! ” 
 Turning, behold the saintly face, 
 So full of trust and patient grace. 
 
 “‘ He justly claims a song from me, 
 His loving-kindness—oh, how free! ” 
 Sweetly thus did run the song, 
 ‘* His loving-kindness” all day long, 
 Trusting, praising, day by day, 
 She sang the sweetest roundelay— 
 ‘He near my soul hath always stood, 
 His loving-kindness—oh, how good!” 
 
 ‘* He safely leads my soul along, 
 His loving-kindness—oh, how strong! ” 
 So strong to lead her on the way 
 To that eternal better day, 
 Where safe at last in that blest home, 
 All care and weariness are gone, 
 She ‘‘sings, with rapture and surprise, 
 His loving-kindness in the skies.” 
 
 FEEDING THE SICK. 
 
 Four causes of suffering among the sick occur to us as 
 worth considering. First, a poor choice of diet; sec- 
 ondly, a poor way of preparing it ; thirdly, an 
 improper time for serving it; and fourthly, the bad 
 habit of retaining it within the patient’s recognition by 
 the sense of sight or smell. The purpose of feeding the 
 
 well or ill is to supply the demand for nourishment and — 
 
 not the gratification of the appetite. Still, the latter 
 result has its value, in that we digest more readily and 
 perfectly those articles of nutrition that we like. 
 
 It may be well even for the sick to have regular times 
 
THE KINGDOM OF HOME. 303 
 
 for taking nourishment; still, very sick persons can take 
 so little nutriment of any kind that their needs and 
 wants must be consulted. The general rule must be that 
 the smaller the quantity that can be taken the oftener it 
 may be given. And a second rule should be, never to 
 offer a patient the same dish of food that he has once 
 refused. If it has stood long it is not fresh and nice. 
 A third rule founded on experience is, always make the 
 food of the sick palatable. 
 
 In the course of a severe sickness discretion in many 
 things is valuable. It is needed in measuring out the 
 food. A teaspoonful of any proper liquid every half 
 hour or more may be all that the sufferer can bear. If 
 he is stupid or delirious, rub his lips gently with a spoon 
 to notify him that he must now be ready to swallow 
 what you present. You may tenderly press down the 
 lower lip with your finger, slowly introduce the spoon to 
 attract his attention, so that he may swallow the liquid 
 almost unconsciously, and yet with safety. The sick 
 may suffer from thirst, and still be unable to announce 
 it. Small bits of ice enclosed in a soft linen rag may 
 meet his needs and be eagerly received. Some slightly 
 acid drinks, as lemonade, will demand his gratitude. 
 
 The kind of food should be easy of solution in the 
 patient's mouth and in the gastric sack. The taste of 
 the sick is easily offended, so that proper and agreeable 
 food only should be offered ; otherwise, the patient’s 
 stomach will loathe and utterly reject it—even if once 
 well down it will soon come up again. No nurse, then, 
 is well educated and fitted for the practice of her profes- 
 sion, who does not know how to select proper food, how 
 
304 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 to prepare it, and how to serve it. What food a sick 
 person really needs, and how it can be rendered pala- 
 table and easily digestible, must be learned by observa- 
 tion and experience. 
 
 The temperature of food renders it hard or easy of 
 digestion. If it be lower than the temperature of the 
 stomach, the digestion will be more or less delayed. It 
 should be as warm at least as the temperature of the gas- 
 tric sack in which it must be dissolved, or it may induce 
 temporary indigestion. Tea, coffee, toast or bits of beef 
 should be hot when presented to the invalid or convales- 
 cent, because time will cool them to suit his taste. The 
 cups for tea or coffee or chocolate need no warming, but 
 the plates on which he carves his meat or toast often do. 
 
 The physician, as a part of his duty, may prescribe 
 the amount of food the patient may safely take, but 
 still the nurse should be able to vary his directions when 
 circumstances occur to warrant it. A nurse should 
 never urge the sick person to eat more than he really 
 wants. 
 
 The idea of having a certain article of food long enter- 
 tained will inevitably impair the appetite for it. Itisa 
 careless and disagreeable practice to fill a cup so full 
 that its contents will run over and partially fill the sau- 
 cer. The nurse should never taste the tea or coffee or 
 broth in the presence of the patient. It makes him feel 
 that he is to drink only slops remaining in the nurse’s 
 cup. Be considerate enough to know what the sick one 
 may need. Have everything placed in tasteful order on 
 a waiter—salt, pepper, fork and knife, extra cup and 
 spoons. A neat bouquet will make your patient smile 
 
THE KINGDOM OF HOME. 305 
 
 and increase his appetite. A loving tone and a few ten- 
 der words are often worth more than stimulants. 
 
 THE GIRL IN THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 As the march of civilization renders the art of living 
 more complicated, the question of how we shall be 
 served increases in importance. Untrained peasants, 
 direct from Europe, invade our homes, spoil our dinners, 
 destroy our delicate china and bric-a-brac, and rule us 
 with a rod of iron. We pay them high wages, and only 
 complain when goaded to desperation. Many of these 
 girls are good-natured, quick-witted, and easily taught 
 the manifold duties of the average household. But how 
 -many women are willing to convert their tastefully fur- 
 nished homes into training-schools for ignorant ser- 
 vants? No doubt there are some admirable housekeep- 
 ers who prefer taking a raw girl just from the ship, and 
 training her into the ways of their households. If they 
 can at the same time inculcate habits of order and sys- 
 tem, they are doubly to be blessed. While this course 
 of education is going on, however, the same wages are 
 demanded in many cases as after the girl has graduated. 
 and received her diploma. At any time during her tute- 
 lage the offer of an additional dollar per month will 
 induce the average girl to leave her kind instructor and 
 palm off her incompetency on some other mistress. How 
 is this unjust state of affairs to be remedied ? 
 
 A thoroughly good servant, one who understands her 
 duties and attends to them properly, deserves to be well 
 paid. A skilled workman can always command good. 
 wages, and there is no reason why a woman’s skill in 
 
306 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 domestic duties should not have a marketable value. 
 But this will never be the case until ladies absolutely 
 refuse to pay high wages for poor work. There are 
 thousands of households in this city to-day, where the 
 ladies themselves do much of the dirty and disagreeable 
 work, for fear of offending Bridget by asking her to 
 ittend to it. Instead of keeping a general supervision 
 over the various departments of household labor, they 
 are constantly employed in doing up the little odds and 
 ends of work which their hired ‘help ”” have purposely 
 neglected. Of course, in families where only one ser- 
 vant is kept, who is expected to do washing, ironing, 
 cooking and cleaning, a great deal devolves upon the 
 mistress. In such cases the lady of the house should 
 take upon herself certain departments of work, and 
 attend to them regularly. Many ladies do the up-stairs 
 work themselves, except on Fridays, when the girl gives 
 the bedroom a thorough sweeping. Other ladies wash 
 the fine china and silver, and brush up and dust the din- 
 ing room after breakfast is over, while the girl makes 
 the beds up-stairs. Some such arrangement is abso- 
 lutely necessary where the family is large. In such 
 cases the girl is not expected to do much baking. Hither 
 the mistress makes pies, cakes and desserts herself or 
 has recourse to the bakery. When hiring a girl for gen- 
 eral housework, a lady should always specify exactly 
 what the girl will be expected to do, and state what 
 work she will herself attend to. After this she should 
 never do Bridget’s work for her. If in setting the table 
 she forgets something, and the mistress gets it herself, 
 the girl will invariably forget it the next time. If called 
 
THE KINGDOM OF HOME. 307 
 
 therself and asked to fetch it, it will not again be miss- 
 ing. The ironing drags and looks as if there was no 
 prospect of it being finished. The lady foresees confu- 
 sion, takes a hand, and works until she has a headache. 
 Next week the same scene is repeated, only if the mis- 
 tress goes out calling, instead of giving the desired help, 
 black, sullen looks are the result. Never give a girl too 
 much work for her strength, but on no account accept 
 less than the work she is engaged to do. 
 
 Ladies who take ignorant girls just landed, to teach 
 in their families, should pay them no more than a rea- 
 . sonable sum a month while learning. If they would 
 refuse to pay more, a reform would soon be effected. 
 ‘The matter lies in the hands of the mistresses themselves. 
 Servant-girls who are assisted by the lady of the house, 
 and who only do a part of the work themselves, are not 
 worth as high wages as those who are competent cooks, 
 ~laundresses and chamber-maids. The latter ought to 
 command higher wages than those who only do one 
 thing. 
 
 Many families, who find two girls in a house apt to 
 disagree, either put out their entire washing and ironing 
 or have a woman come in every week to do it, and keep 
 one good general servant. Under these circumstances 
 there is often more real comfort than when two or three 
 girls are kept. 
 
 Of course, the mistress of a household must under- 
 stand and act upon the principle that duty is two-fold— 
 that she as well as the servant must keep watch and 
 ward over her temper and her actions, that she has no 
 ‘more right to shirk that share of the household duties 
 
* 
 ‘es 
 - 
 
 Te 
 
 308 - WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 she has assumed than the family servant, and finally 
 that the relation of mistress and servant is purely a busi- 
 ness one and warrants no personal liberties, no unkind- 
 ness of speech or discourtesy of action on the one side: 
 or on the other. 
 
 SECRET OF A TRUE LIFE. 
 
 Dr. Arnold, of Rugby, gives in one of his letters an 
 account of a saintly sister. For twenty years, through 
 some disease, she was confined to a kind of crib; never 
 once could she change her position for all that time. 
 ‘¢ And yet,’ said Dr. Arnold (and I think his words are: 
 very beautiful), ‘‘I never saw a more perfect instance of 
 the power of love and a sound mind. Intense love, 
 almost to the annihilation of selfishness; a daily mar- 
 tyrdom for twenty years, during which she adhered to: 
 her early formed resolution of never talking about her- 
 self; thoughtful about the very pins and ribbons of my 
 wife’s dress, about the making of a doll’s cap for a child, - 
 but of herself—save as regarded her improvement in all 
 goodness — wholly thoughtless, enjoying everything” 
 lovely, grand, beautiful, high-minded, whether in God’s. 
 works or man’s, with the keenest relish ; inheriting the 
 earth to the fullness of the promise; and preserved 
 through the valley of the shadow of death from all fear 
 or impatience, and from every cloud of impaired reason 
 which might mar the beauty of Christ’s glorious work. 
 May God grant that I might come within one hundred 
 degrees of her place in glory !”’ 
 
 Such a life was true and beautiful. But the radiance: 
 of such a life never cheered this world by chance. A. 
 
THE KINGDOM OF HOME. . 809 
 
 sunny patience, a bright-hearted self-forgetfulness, a 
 sweet and winning interest in the little things of family 
 intercourse, the divine lustre of a Christian peace, are 
 not fortuitous weeds carelessly flowering out of the life- 
 garden. It is the internal which makes the external. 
 It is the force residing in the atoms which shapes the 
 pyramid. It is the beautiful soul within which forms 
 the crystal of the beautiful life without. 
 
 ‘‘ Be what thou seemest; live thy creed; 
 Hold up to the earth the torch divine; 
 Be what thou prayest to be made; 
 Let the great Master’s steps be thine. 
 
 ** Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure; 
 Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright; 
 
 Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor, 
 
 And find a harvest home of light.” 
 
 THE ‘‘ LITTLE PITCHERS.’’ 
 
 It is rather a sad fact, nevertheless it is true, that chil- 
 dren are often necessary in the household to act as scav- 
 engers and keep the moral air pure. Often it happens 
 that when a party of older people are telling some 
 doubtful bit of gossip, or relating a story too salacious 
 for dainty palates, the earnest, interrogative gaze of a 
 little child produces a sudden hush, and some one inva- 
 riably remarks, ‘‘ Little pitchers have long ears,” a 
 phrase older than the oldest memory and singularly 
 attractive to the little folk. ‘‘ Where are the little pit- 
 chers ”’ ask these innocent ones, taking the words. liter- 
 ally; but the conversation takes another turn—the 
 “¢ child in their midst’? has been a purifying influence, 
 
310 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and they restrain the tide of gossip or slander, conscious: 
 that it is potent for evil. 
 
 It is a pity if there are any families where this nursery 
 rhyme is unknown, where the ‘‘ little pitchers”? are 
 filled with words of profanation, and scoldings and con- 
 tradiction are poured daily into the ‘‘long ears” that 
 should be filled only with the dews of heaven. Children 
 are so quick to learn, and no word they hear is ever lost, 
 but reverberates in memory until years have passed and 
 father and mother gone, and the boy or giri grown to 
 maturity, when it all comes back, ‘‘ Mother used to say,”’ 
 ‘‘T have heard my father tell,’ etc. Oh, if they were 
 words of wisdom, of love and kindly counsel, how sweet 
 to remember and reproduce them—how precious the 
 draught which, distilled in the ‘‘ little pitcher,” 
 refreshes like the fountain of pure cold water in the 
 desert. Every parent is a future historian. Teachers. 
 and playmates may be forgotten, but the first lesson 
 learned from the lips of a parent is immortal in its: 
 power. Fill up the ‘‘little pitchers,’ then, with the 
 milk and honey that nourish unto a perfect growth— 
 make them vessels of honor in the home and the world. 
 
S-CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Women * AS * Poets. 
 
 BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 By Mrs. Jutia Warp Hows 
 
 Mrs. Howe was born in New York in 1819. She was the daughter of 
 Samuel Ward, a banker of that city, and in 1843 was married to Samuel 
 G. Howe, of Boston. Her first volume was a book of poems called 
 Passion Flowers, published in 1854. It was in 1866, after the close of 
 the war, that she published the Battle Hymn in her volume Later Lyrics. 
 Mrs. Howe is a grand woman, a poet and philanthropist, and a worker in 
 every good cause that furthers the advancement of women. She is also 
 the author of several prose works commemorative of her travels abroad. 
 
 INE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. 
 He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of 
 wrath are stored; 
 He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword. 
 His truth is marching on. 
 
 I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; 
 
 They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps. 
 
 I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps. 
 His day is marching on. 
 
 I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: 
 
 As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall 
 deal. 
 
 Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel— 
 
 Since God is marching on. 
 ail 
 
 a 
 
312 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 He has sounded forth the trumpet that shali never call retreat; 
 
 He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat. 
 
 Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea, 
 
 With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me. 
 
 As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free— 
 While God is marching on. 
 
 ROCK ME TO SLEEP. 
 
 By Mrs, EvizaBetH AKERS ALLEN, - 
 
 The author of this beautiful and favorite poem, Mrs. Allen, was born 
 October 9th, 1832, in Strong, Franklin Co., Maine, and at an early period 
 was married to Paul Akers, the sculptor, who died in the following year. 
 She afterwards married Mr. E. M. Allen, a resident of New York City, 
 and under the nom-de-guerre of Florence Percy, wrote many beautiful’ and 
 touching poems, none of which have attained to such popular fame as 
 Rock Me to Sleep, which is claimed by as many authors as Beautiful 
 Snow. Mrs. Allen is at present living in Greenville, N. J. 
 
 ACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight— 
 Make me a child again just for to-night. 
 
 Mother, come back from the echoless shore; 
 
 Take me again to your heart as of yore; 
 
 Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, 
 
 Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; 
 
 Over my slumbers your loving watch keep— 
 
 Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. 
 
 Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years, 
 I am so weary of toil and of tears— 
 
 Toil without recompense, tears all in vain— 
 Take them and give me my childhood again. 
 
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 I have grown weary of dust and decay-— 
 Weary of flinging my soul wealth away; 
 Weary of sowing for others to reap— 
 Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. 
 
 ‘Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
 Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you. — 
 
 Many a summer the grass has grown green, 
 Blossomed and faded, our faces between; 
 
 ‘Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain, 
 
 Long I to-night for your presence again. 
 
 ‘Come from the silence so long and so deep— 
 
 Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. 
 
 ‘Over my heart in the days that are flown, 
 No love like mother-love ever has shone; 
 
 ‘No other worship abides and endures— 
 
 Faithful, unselfish, and patient, like yours; 
 
 None like a mother can charm away pain 
 
 From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. 
 
 ‘Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep— 
 
 Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. 
 
 ‘Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, 
 
 Fall on your shoulders again as of old; 
 
 Let it drop over my forehead to-night, 
 Shading my faint eyes away from the light; 
 For, with its sunny-edged shadows once more, 
 Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore. 
 Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep— 
 Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. 
 
 Mother, dear mother, the years have been long 
 Since I last listened your lullaby song: 
 
 313 
 
ae 
 
 B14 . WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
 Womanhood’s years have been only a dream. 
 Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, 
 With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
 Never hereafter to wake or to weep— 
 
 Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep, 
 
 ANSWER TO ROCK ME TO SLEEP. 
 
 \ | Y child, ah my child! thou art weary to-night, 
 Thy spirit is sad and dim is the light; 
 
 Thou wouldst call me back from the echoless shore, 
 
 To the trials of life, to thy heart as of yore; 
 
 Thou longest again for my fond loving care, 
 
 For my kiss on thy cheek, for my hand on thy hair; 
 
 But angels around thee their loving watch keep, 
 And angels, my darling, will rock thee to sleep. 
 
 “ Backward?” Nay, onward, ye swift rolling years! 
 Gird on thy armor, keep back thy tears; 
 Count not thy trials nor efforts in vain— ) 
 They’ll bring thee the light of thy childhood again. 4 
 Thou shouldst not weary, my child, by the way, 4 
 But watch for the light of that brighter day; m 
 Not tired of “sowing for others to reap,” 
 For angels, my darling, will rock thee to sleep. 
 
 Tired, my child, of the “base, the untrue !” 
 
 I have tasted the cup they have given to you— 
 Ive felt the deep sorrow in the living green 
 
 Of a low mossy grave by a silvery stream. 
 
 But the dear mother I then sought for in vain 
 Is an angel presence and with me again, 
 
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WOMEN AS PORTS. 315 
 
 And in the still night, from the silence so deep, 
 Come the bright angels to rock me to sleep. 
 
 Nearer thee now than in days that are flown, 
 
 Purer the love light encircling thy home; 
 
 Far more enduring the watch for to-night, 
 
 Than ever earth worship away from the light. 
 
 Soon the dark shadows will linger no more, 
 
 Nor come to thy call from the opening door; 
 
 But know thou, my child, that the angels watch keep, 
 And soon, very soon, they’ll rock thee to sleep. 
 
 They'll sing thee to sleep with a soothing song, 
 And waking, thou’lt be with a heavenly throng; 
 And thy life, with its toil and its tears and pain, 
 Thou wilt then see has not been in vain. 
 Thou wilt meet those in bliss whom on earth thou didst love, 
 And whom thou hast taught of the “mansions above.” 
 “‘ Never hereafter to suffer or weep,” 
 The angels, my darling, will rock thee to sleep. 
 
 KENTUCKY BELLE. 
 
 By Constance F. Woo.Lson. 
 
 This lady is a magazine writer of great power and originality. Her most 
 popular novel is Anne, a tale of Mackinac, which was published in 
 Harper’s Magazine in 1881. She is unmarried, and an artist as well as an_ 
 author and poet. The poem we append is an especial favorite in public 
 readings. 
 
 UMMER of ’sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone away— 
 »_J Gone to the country-town, sir, to sell our first load of hay— 
 We lived in the log house yonder, poor as ever you’ve seen; 
 Réschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen, 
 
316 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Conrad, he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle. 
 
 How much we thought of Kentuck, I couldn’t begin to tell— 
 Came from the Blue-Grass country; my father gave her to me 
 When I rode North with Conrad, away from the Tennessee. 
 
 Conrad lived in Ohio—a German he is, you know— 
 The house stood in broad corn-fields, stretching on row after 
 
 row. 
 The old folks made me welcome; they were kind as kind 
 could be; 
 
 But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of the Tennessee. 
 
 Oh, for a sight of water, the shadowed slope of a hill! 
 Clouds that hang on the summit, a wind that never is still! 
 But the level land went stretching away to meet the sky— 
 Never a rise, from north to south, to rest the weary eye. 
 
 From east to west, no river to shine out under the moon, 
 Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon: 
 Only the breathless sunshine, as I looked out, all forlorn; 
 Only the “rustle, rustle,” as I walked among the corn. 
 
 When I fell sick with pining, we didn’t wait any more, a 
 
 But moved away from the corn-lands, out to this river-shore— — 
 The Tuscarawas it’s called, sir—off there’s a hill, you see— 
 And now I’ve grown to like it next best to the Tennessée. 
 
 I was at work that morning. Some one came riding like mad 
 
 Over the bridge and up the road—Farmer Rouf’s little lad. 
 
 Bareback he rode; he had no hat; he hardly stopped to say, 
 
 “Morgan’s men are coming, Frau; they’re galloping on this 
 way. | 
 
 “Tm sent to warn the neighbors. He isn’t'a mile behind; 
 He sweeps up all the horses—every horse that he can find. 
 
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WOMEN AS POETS. Sle 
 
 Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan’s terrible men, 
 With bowie-knives and pistols, are galloping up the glen!” 
 
 The lad rode down the valley, and I stood still at the door; 
 The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools on the floor; 
 Kentuck was out in the pasture; Conrad, my man was gone. 
 
 , Near, nearer, Morgan’s men were galloping, galloping on! 
 
 Sudden I picked up baby, and ran to the pasture-bar. 
 “Kentuck!” I called—“ Kentucky!” She knew me ever so far! 
 I led her down the gully that turns off there to the right, 
 
 And tied her to the bushes; her head was just out of sight. 
 
 As I ran back to the log house, at once there came a sound— 
 The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, trembling over the ground— 
 Coming into the turnpike out from the White-Woman Glen— 
 Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan’s terrible men. 
 
 As near they drew and nearer, my heart beat fast in alarm; 
 But still I stood in the door-way, with baby on my arm. 
 They came; they passed; with spur and whip in haste they sped 
 along— 
 Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band, six hundred strong. 
 
 Weary they looked and jaded, riding through night and through 
 day; 
 
 Pushing on east to the river, many long miles away, 
 
 To the border-strip where Virginia runs up into the west, 
 
 And fording the Upper Ohio before they could stop to rest. 
 
 On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in advance; 
 Bright were his eyes like live coals, as he gave me a sideways: 
 glance; 
 And I was just breathing freely, after my choking pain, 
 When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his rein. 
 
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318 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Frightened I was to death, sir; I scarce dared look in his face, 
 
 As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced around the place. 
 
 I gave him a cup and he smiled—'twas only a boy, you see, 
 
 Faint and worn, with dim-blue eyes; and he’d sailed on the 
 Tennessee. 
 
 Only sixteen he was, sir—a fond mother’s only son— 
 
 Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun ! 
 
 The damp drops stood on his temples; drawn was the boyish 
 mouth; 
 
 And I thought me of the mother waiting down in the South. 
 
 & 
 
 Oh, pluck was he to the backbone, and clear grit through and 
 through; ; . 
 
 Boasted and bragged like a trooper; but the big words wouldn’t 
 do— 
 
 The boy was dying, sir, dying, as plain as plain could be, 
 
 Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Tennessee. 
 
 But when I told the laddie I too was from the South, 
 
 Water came in his dim eyes, and quivers around his mouth. 
 
 “Do you know the Blue-Grass country ?” he wistful began to 
 Say; 
 
 Then swayed like a willow-sapling, and fainted dead away. 
 
 I had him into the log house, and worked and brought him to; 
 
 I fed him, and I coaxed him, as I thought his mother’d do; 
 
 And when the lad got better, and the noise in his head was 
 gone, 
 
 Morgan’s men were miles away, galloping, galloping on. 
 
 “‘Oh, I must go,” he muttered; “I must be up and away! 
 ‘Morgan—Morgan is waiting for me! Oh, what will Morgan 
 say ?” 
 
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 “| HAD HIM INTO THE LOG HOUSE, AND WORKED AND BROUGHT HIM THROUGH; 
 1} FED HIM, AND 1 COAXED HIM, AS | THOUGHT HIS MOTHER 'D DQ,” 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 319 
 
 ‘But I heard a sound of tramping and kept him back from the 
 door— : 
 ‘The ringing sound of horses’ hoofs that I had heard befere. 
 
 And on, on came the soldiers—the Michigan cavalry— 
 
 And fast they rode, and black they looked, galloping rapidly,— 
 
 ‘They had followed hard on Morgan’s track; they had followed 
 day and night; 
 
 But of Morgan and Morgan’s raiders they had never caught a 
 sight. 
 
 _And rich Ohio sat startled through all those summer days; 
 
 For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad highways: 
 
 Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, now east, 
 now west, 
 
 ‘Through river-valleys and corn-land farms, sweeping away her 
 best. 
 
 A bold ride and a long ride! But they were taken at last, 
 
 “They almost reached the river by galloping hard and fast; 
 
 But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they gained the 
 ford, 
 
 _And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his terrible sword. 
 
 Well, I kept the boy till evening—kept him against his will— 
 But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale and still. 
 “When it was cool and dusky—you’ll wonder to hear me tell— 
 “But I stole down to that gully, and brought up Kentucky Belle. 
 ‘I kissed the star on her forehead—my pretty, gentle lass— 
 But I knew that she’d be happy back in the old Blue-Grass. — 
 
 A suit of clothes of Conrad’s, with all the money I had, 
 
 __And Kentuck, pretty Kentuck, I gave to the worn-out lad. © 
 
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320 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 I guided him to the southward as well as I knew how; 
 
 The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a backward bow; 
 And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to swell, 
 
 As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky Belle! 
 
 When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was shining high; 
 
 Baby and I were both crying—I couldn’t tell him why— 
 
 But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the wall, 
 
 And a thin old horse, with drooping head, stood in Kentucky’s. 
 stall. 
 
 Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word to me; 
 
 He knew I couldn’t help it—twas all for the Tennessee. 
 
 But, after the war was over, just think what came to pass— 
 
 A letter, sir; and the two were safe back in the old Blue-Grass.. 
 
 The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky Belle; 
 
 And Kentuck she was thriving, and fat, and hearty, and well; 
 
 He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with whip or 
 spur. 
 
 Ah, we’ve had many horses since, but never a horse like her! 
 
 DEATH AND THE YOUTH. 
 
 By Letitia E, LANDON, 
 
 The beautiful, gifted, and most unhappy L. E. L., as she signed herself 
 in her first youthful poems, was the daughter of an army agent, and wasge 
 born in Chelsea, England, in 1802, and died in 1888. She acquired a brief 
 and splendid popularity, but her sad domestic life tinged her later poems 
 with its melancholy. Letitia E. Landon, afterwards Mrs. Madeau, died in. 
 the same year that she was married. 
 
 N OT yet—the flowers are in my path, 
 
 The sun is in the sky; 
 Not yet—my heart is full of hope, 
 I cannot bear to die. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 321 
 
 Not yet—I never knew till now, 
 How precious life could be; 
 
 My heart is full of love—O Death, 
 I cannot come with thee! 
 
 But love and hope, enchanted twain, 
 Passed in their falsehood by; 
 Death came again, and then he said, 
 “Tm ready now to die.” 
 
 AFTER THE BALL 
 
 By Nora Perry Cooks. 
 
 Mrs. Cooke, who has written many golden poems, is a resident of Provi- 
 dence, R. I., and has published a couple of volumes of sweet and graceful 
 verse. As she is still writing and has an exuberant fancy, coupled with a 
 gentle poetic nature, pure and bird-like in its simplicity, we may expect 
 much good work to succeed the exquisite love romances she has already 
 written. 
 
 ‘aa sat and combed their beautiful hair, 
 Their long bright tresses one by one, 
 
 As they laughed and talked in the chamber there, 
 After the revel was done. 
 
 Idly they talked of waltz and quadrille; 
 > Idly they laughed like other girls, 
 Who, over the fire, when all is still, 
 Comb out their braids and curls. 
 
 Robe of satin and Brussels lace, 
 Knots of flowers and ribbons, too, 
 Scattered about in every place, 
 
 For the revel is through. 
 21 
 
B22 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 And Maud and Madge, in robes of white, 
 The prettiest night-gowns under the sun, 
 
 Stockingless, slipperless, sit in the night, 
 For the revel is done. 
 
 Sit and comb their beautiful hair, 
 
 Those wonderful waves of brown and gold, 
 Till the fire is out in the chamber there, 
 
 And the little bare feet are cold. 
 
 Then out of the gathering winter chill— 
 All out of the bitter St. Agnes weather, 
 
 While the fire is out and the house is still, 
 Maud and Madge together— 
 
 Maud and Madge, in robes of white, 
 The prettiest night-gowns under the sun, 
 Curtained away from the chilly night 
 After the revel is done, 
 
 Float along in a splendid dream, 
 To a golden gittern’s tinkling tune, 
 
 While a thousand lustres shimmering stream, 
 In a palace’s grand saloon. 
 
 Flashing of jewels and flutter of laces, 
 Tropical odors sweeter than musk— 
 
 Men and women with beautiful faces, 
 And eyes of tropical dusk. 
 
 And one face shining out like a star; 
 One face haunting the dreams of each, 
 
 And one voice sweeter than others are, 
 Breaking in silvery speech. 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 
 
 Telling through lips of bearded bloom, 
 An old, old story over again, 
 
 As down the royal bannered room, 
 To the golden gittern’s strain, 
 
 Two and two they dreamily walk, 
 While an unseen spirit walks beside, 
 
 And, all unheard in the lover’s talk, 
 He claimeth one for a bride. 
 
 O Maud and Madge! dream on together, 
 With never a pang of jealous fear; 
 
 Yor, ere the bitter St. Agnes weather 
 Shall whiten another year, 
 
 Robed for the bridal, and robed for the tomb, 
 Braided brown hair and golden tress, 
 
 There’ll be only one of you left for the bloom 
 Of the bearded lips to press. 
 
 Only one for the bridal pearls, 
 The robe of satin and Brussels lace— 
 Only one to blush through her curls, 
 At the sight of a lover’s face. 
 
 O beautiful Madge, in your bridal white, 
 For you the revel has just begun; 
 
 But for her who sleeps in your arms to-night 
 The revel of life is done! 
 
 But robed and crowned with your saintly bliss, 
 Queen of Heaven and bride of the sun, 
 
 0 beautiful Maud, you'll never miss 
 The kisses another hath won! 
 
 323 
 
324 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT. 
 
 By Lapy DUFFERIN. 
 
 The sweet pathos of this sadly-worded song has never been rivaled by 
 
 any poem of exile ever written or sung, and it will always be just as touch- 
 ing to the homesick heart asnow. The writer, Lady Dufferin, is the mother, 
 and not the wife, as erroneously stated, of the former Governor-general of 
 Canada. It was published originally in the year 1838, and was set to music 
 and sung in every drawing-room in the United Kingdom, and became espe- 
 cially a favorite in America during the year of the Irish famine, 1848. 
 
 . | )M sittin’ on the stile, Mary, 
 Where we sat side by side, 
 On a bright May mornin’ long ago, 
 When first you were my bride; 
 The corn was springin’ fresh and green, 
 And the lark sung loud and high, 
 And the red was on your lip, Mary, 
 And the love-light in your eye. 
 
 The place is little changed, Mary, 
 The day is bright as then, 
 
 The lark’s loud song is in my ear, 
 And the corn is green again; 
 
 But I miss the soft clasp of your hand, * 
 
 And your breath warm on my cheek, 
 And I still keep listenin’ for the words 
 You never more will speak. 
 
 Tis but a step down yonder lane, 
 And the little church stands near,— 
 The church where we were wed, Mary, 
 I see the spire from here; 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 325 
 
 But the graveyard lies between, Mary, 
 And my step might break your rest,— 
 
 For I’ve laid you, darling, down to sleep, 
 With your baby on your breast. 
 
 I’m very lonely now, Mary, 
 For the poor make no new friends; 
 But, oh, they love the better still 
 The few our Father sends; 
 And you were all I had, Mary— 
 My blessin’ and my pride; 
 There’s nothing left to care for now, 
 Since my poor Mary died. 
 
 Yours was the good, brave heart, Mary, 
 That still kept hoping on, 
 When the trust in God had left my soul, 
 And my arm’s young strength was gone; 
 There was comfort ever on your lip, 
 And the kind look on your brow,— 
 I bless you, Mary, for that same, 
 Though you cannot hear me now. 
 
 I thank you for the patient smile 
 When your heart was fit to break— 
 When the hunger-pain was gnawin’ there, 
 And you hid it for my sake; 
 I bless you for the pleasant word, 
 When your heart was sad and sore,— 
 Oh, I’m thankful you are gone, Mary, 
 Where grief can’t reach you more! 
 
 I’m bidding you a long farewell, 
 My Mary, kind and true! 
 
326 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 But T’ll not forget you, darling, 
 In the land ’'m going to. 
 They say there’s bread and work for all, 
 And the sun shines always there,— 
 But Pl not forget old Ireland, 
 Were it fifty times as fair! 
 
 And often in those grand old woods 
 Pll sit and shut my eyes, 
 
 And my heart will travel back again 
 To the place where Mary lies; 
 
 And [ll think I see the little stile 
 
 _ Where we sat side by side, 
 
 And the springin’ corn and the bright May morn, 
 When first you were my bride. 
 
 ON THE SHORES OF TENNESSEE. 
 
 «By Mrs. ETHEL LYNN BEERS, 
 
 The writer of this beautiful song was born in Goshen, Orange Co., N. J., 
 in 1827, and was very popular as a contributor to the New York Ledger, 
 Harper’s Weekly, and other papers, under the pseudonym of Ethel Lynn, 
 to which she added afterwards her married name. ‘She died in 1879. The 
 old slave-days are recalled with vivid earnestness by her stirring lines. 
 
 66 M OVE my arm-chair, faithful Pompey, 
 si 
 
 ‘In the sunshine bright and strong, 
 For this world is fading, Pompey— 
 Massa won’t be with you long; 
 And I fain would hear the south wind 
 Bring once more the sound to me, 
 Of the wavelets softly breaking 
 On the shores of Tennessee. 
 
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 WOMEN AS POETS. 327 
 
 * Mournful though the ripples murmur, 
 As they still the story tell, 
 How no vessel floats the banner 
 That Pve loved so long and well; 
 I shall listen to their music, 
 Dreaming that again I see 
 _ Stars and Stripes on sloop and shallop, 
 Sailing up the Tennessee. 
 
 “ And, Pompey, while Ole Massa’s waiting 
 
 For death’s last dispatch to come, 
 
 If that exiled starry banner 
 Should come sailing proudly home, 
 
 You shall greet it, slave no longer, 
 Voice and hand shall both be free, 
 
 That shout and point to Union colors 
 On the waves of Tennessee.” 
 
 “*Massa’s berry kind to Pompey, 
 But ole darkey’s happy here, 
 Where he’s tended corn and cotton 
 For dese many a long gone year. 
 Over yonder Missis’ sleeping, 
 No one tends her grave like me, 
 Mebbe she would miss the flowers 
 She used to love in Tennessee.” 
 
 = ~ ©?Pears like she was watching Massa, 
 
 If Pompey should beside him stay, 
 Mebbe she’d remember better 
 
 How for him she used to pray, 
 Telling him that way up yonder 
 
 White as snow his soul would be, 
 
328 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 If he served the Lord of Heaven 
 While he lived in Tennessee.” 
 
 Silently the tears were rolling 
 Down the poor old dusky face, 
 
 As he stepped behind his master, 
 In his long accustomed place. 
 
 Then a silence fell around them, 
 As they gazed on rock and tree, 
 
 Pictured in the placid waters : 
 Of the rolling Tennessee. 
 
 Master dreaming of the battle, 
 When he fought by Marion’s side— 
 
 When he bid the haughty Tarlton 
 Stoop his lordly crest of pride; 
 
 Man, remembering how yon sleeper 
 Once he held upon his knee, 
 
 Ere she loved the gallant soldier, 
 Ralph Vervair of Tennessee. 
 
 Still the south wind fondly lingers 
 "Mid the veteran’s silver hair; | 
 Still the bondsman, close beside him, 
 Stands beside the old-arm chair, | 
 
 With his dark-hued hand uplifted, 
 Shading eyes he bends to see 
 
 Where the woodland, boldly jutting, 
 Turns aside the Tennessee. 
 
 Thus he watches cloud-born shadows 
 Glide from tree to mountain crest, 
 Softly creeping, aye and ever, bs 
 To the river’s yielding breast. : 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 3829 
 
 Ha, above the foliage yonder, 
 Something flutters wild and free! 
 “Massa! Massa! Hallelujah! 
 The flag’s come back to Tennessee!” 
 
 “Pompey, hold me on your shoulder, 
 Help me stand on foot once more, 
 That I may salute the colors 
 
 As they pass my cabin door. 
 Here’s the paper, signed, that frees you, 
 ee Give a freeman’s shout with me! 
 ee , God and Union! be our watchword 
 | Evermore in Tennessee!” 
 
 i. | ; 
 J . Then the trembling voice grew fainter, 
 : _ And the limbs refused to stand; 
 
 One prayer to Jesus—and the soldier 
 Glided to the better land. 
 
 When the flag went down the river, 
 
 ee Man and master both were free, 
 
 iy While the ring-dove’s note was mingled 
 
 With the rippling Tennessee. | 
 
 i. BRAVE KATE SHELLEY. 
 a Poe By Mrs. M. L. Rayne. 
 
 Pe It will be remembered that Kate She Shelley, a young girl or fifteen yes<s, 
 : “on that terrible night of July 6, 1881, walked five miles, crossing in the 
 ; : ylarkness and storm a long dangerous bridge, to warn the night express on 
 the Chicago and Northwestern Railway of a wrecked train. When the 
 we: tory of her heroic behavior spread throughout the State, several funds for 
 her benefit were started, and, so far as money can pay for such devotion, 
 _ she has been well rewarded for her night’s work. At the session of the 
 _ fowa Legislature, last winter, it was ordered that a medal commemorative _ 
 of the girl’s bravery be struck, and a committee was appointed to present — 
 
 if it to her. Her heroism was made the theme of many eloquent speeches, 
 
 7 
 
330 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘* How far that little candle throws its beams, 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world.”’ 
 
 HROUGH the whirl of wind and water parted by the 
 rushing steel, 
 Flashed the white glare of the headlight, flew the swift revolv- ° 
 ing wheel, 
 As the midnight train swept onward, bearing on its iron wings 
 Through the gloom of night and tempest, freightage of most 
 precious things. 
 
 Little children by their mothers nestle in unbroken rest, 
 
 Stalwart men are dreaming softly of their journey’s finished quest, 
 
 While the men who watch and guard them, sleepless stand at 
 post and brake; 
 
 Close the throttle! draw the lever! safe for wife and sweet- 
 
 heart’s sake. 
 
 Sleep and dream, unheeding danger; in the valley yonder lies 
 Death’s debris in weird confusion, altar fit for sacrifice! 
 
 Dark and grim the shadows settle where the hidden perils wait; 
 Swift the train, with dear lives laden, rushes to its deadly fate. 
 
 Still they sleep and dream unheeding. Oh, thou watchful One 
 above, 
 
 Save Thy people in this hour! save the ransomed of Thy love! 
 
 Send an angel from Thy heaven who shall calm the troubled air, 
 
 And reveal the powers of evil hidden in the darkness there. 
 
 Saved! ere yet they know their peril, comes a warning to alarm; 
 Saved! the precious train is resting on the brink of deadly harm. 
 God has sent his angel to them, brave Kate Shelley, hero-child! 
 Struggling on, alone, unaided through that night of tempest wild. 
 
 Brave Kate Shelley! tender maiden, baby hands with splinters torn, 
 
 Saved the lives of sleeping travelers swiftly to death’s journey 
 borne. 
 
 Mothers wept and clasped their darlings, breathing words of 
 grateful prayer; 
 
 Men with faces blanched and tearful thanked God for Kate 
 Shelley there. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 331 
 
 Greater love than this hath no man. When the Heavens shall 
 unfold, 
 
 And the judgment books are opened, there in characters of gold 
 
 Brave Kate Shelley’s name shall center, mid the pure, the brave 
 and good, : 
 
 That of one who crowned with glory her heroic womanhood. 
 
 LABOR IS WORSHIP. 
 
 By Francis SARGENT OsGoop. 
 
 Mrs. Osgood struck a popular vein in writing her poems, and they have 
 made themselves a permanent place in the hearts of the people. This is 
 particularly true of the one below, which glorifies the humblest mission of 
 labor into a heroic achievement. Mrs. Osgood was born in Boston in 1812, 
 and was the daughter of a merchant named Locke. In 1884 she married 
 8. S. Osgood, an artist. She died in 1850. 
 
 Peas not to dream of the future before us; 
 
 | Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o’er us. 
 
 Hark, how creation’s deep musical chorus 
 Unintermitting goes up into Heaven. 
 
 Never the ocean wave falters in flowing; 
 
 Never the little seed stops in its growing; 
 
 More and more richly the rose-heart keeps glowing, 
 Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. 
 
 “ Labor is worship!”—the robin is singing; 
 *¢ Labor is worship!”—the wild bee is ringing; 
 Listen! that eloquent whisper upspringing 
 Speaks to thy soul from out Nature’s great heart. 
 From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower; 
 From the rough sod blows the soft-breathing flower; 
 From the small insect, the rich coral bower; 
 Only man, in the plan, ever shrinks from his part. 
 
fay WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 Labor is life! ’Tis the still water faileth; 
 
 Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth; 
 
 Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth; 
 Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon. 
 
 Labor is glory!—the flying cloud lightens; 
 
 Only the waving wing changes and brightens; 
 
 Idle hearts only the dark future frightens; 
 Play the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them in tune. 
 
 “Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us, 
 Rest from all petty vexations that meet us, 
 Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us, 
 
 Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill. 
 Work—and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow; 
 W ork—thou shalt ride over Care’s coming billow; 
 Lie not down wearied ’neath Woe’s weeping-willow; 
 
 Work with a stout heart and resolute will! 
 
 Labor is health! Lo, the husbandman reaping, 
 
 How through his veins goes the life current leaping! 
 
 How his strong arm, in its stalwart pride sweeping, 
 True as a sunbeam the swift sickle guides. 
 
 Labor is wealth! In the sea the pearl groweth; 
 
 Rich the queen’s robe from the frail cocoon floweth; 
 
 From the fine acorn the strong forest bloweth; 
 Temple and statue the marble block hides. 
 
 Droop not, though shame, sin, and anguish are round thee; 
 Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee; 
 Look to yon pure heaven smiling beyond thee; 
 Rest not content in thy darkness—a clod. 
 Work for some good, be it ever so slowly; 
 Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly; 
 Labor! all labor is noble and holy; 
 Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God. 
 
 » 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 333 
 
 THE YOUTHFUL PILOT. 
 
 By. Miss Juutia PLEASANTS. 
 
 [Written on the death of Robert A. Whyte.] 
 
 About thirty years ago George D. Prentice, of the Louisville Journal, 
 was receiving poetic contributions from a number of young lady writers of 
 rare merit, whom he pleasantly termed his ‘‘staff of young lady poets.” 
 Among these was ‘‘ Amelia,” who, under his kindly criticism and foster- 
 ing poetic care, became famous. 
 
 Miss Julia Pleasants (the ‘“‘ Amelia” mentioned), then in her teens, and 
 residing in Huntsville, Ala., was a leading favorite of his, and she con- 
 tributed the poem in question. Prentice, in his editorial comment on pub- 
 lishing it, remarked that ‘‘one might not unwillingly contract to die on 
 stipulation of such a poem in memoriam.” 
 
 Miss Pleasants subsequently married Judge David Creswell, a prominent 
 civil law jurist, who died a few years since in this State (Louisiana); and 
 so the authoress became known as Mrs. Julia Pleasants Creswell. 
 
 Alas! the sweet bells that chimed so harmoniously now jangle sadly out 
 of tune. The fancy that wrought this beautiful pen picture is no longer 
 guided by reason, but is tossed and driven by the weird fantasies of a mind 
 diseased. Mrs. Julia Pleasants Creswell is now an inmate of the State 
 Lunatic Asylum at Jackson, La. 
 
 N the bosom of a river, 
 Where the sun unbinds its quiver, 
 
 Or the starlight streams forever, 
 
 Sailed a vessel light and free. 
 Morning dewdrops hung like manna 
 On the bright folds of her banner, 
 While the zephyrs rose to fan her 
 
 Safely to the radiant sea. 
 
 At her prow a pilot, beaming 
 
 In the flush of youth, stood dreaming, 
 
 And he was in glorious seeming, 
 Like an angel from above; - 
 
334 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Through his hair the breezes sported, 
 
 And, as on the waves he floated, 
 
 Oft that pilot, angel-throated, 
 Warbled lays of hope and love. 
 
 Through those locks so brightly flowing 
 Buds of laurel bloom were blowing, 
 And his hands anon were throwing 
 Music from a lyre of gold. 
 Swiftly down the stream he glided, 
 Soft the purple waves divided, 
 And a rainbow arch abided 
 O’er his canvas’ snowy fold. 
 
 Anxious hearts, with fond devotion, 
 Watched him sailing to the ocean, 
 Praying that no wild commotion 
 Midst the elements might rise; 
 And he seemed some young Apollo 
 Charming summer winds to follow, 
 While the water-flags corolla 
 Trembled to his music-sighs. 
 
 But those purple waves enchanted 
 Rolled beside a city haunted 
 By an awful spell that daunted 
 - Every comer to her shore; 
 
 Night shades rank the air encumbered, 
 And pale marble statues numbered 
 Lotos-eaters, where they slumbered 
 
 And awoke to life no more. 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 335 
 
 Then there rushed with lightning quickness 
 O’er his face a mortal sickness, 
 And death-dews in fearful thickness 
 Gathered o’er his temples fair; 
 And there swept a mournful murmur 
 Through the lovely Southern summer, 
 As the beauteous pilot comer 
 Perished by that city there. 
 
 Still rolls on that radiant river, 
 And the sun unbinds its quiver, 
 Or the starlight streams forever 
 
 On its bosom, as before; 
 But that vessel’s rainbow banner 
 Greets no more the gay savannah, 
 And that pilot’s lute drops manna 
 
 On the purple waves—no more! 
 
 OVER THE RIVER. 
 
 By Mrs. Nancy PRIEST WAKEFIELD. 
 
 The writer of this representative poem was born in 1834, and died in 
 1870. Royalston and Winchendon, Mass., both claim the honor of her 
 birth. Her maiden name was Nancy Amelia Woodbury, and she married 
 Lieutenant A. C. Wakefield in 1865. Her poem is considered one of the 
 finest inspirational lyrics in the English language. 
 
 oS the river they beckon to me, 
 
 Loved ones who’ve crossed to the farther side; 
 The gleam of their snowy robes I see, 
 
 But their voices are drowned in the rushing tide; 
 There’s one with ringlets of sunny gold, 
 
 And eyes the reflection of Heaven’s own blue; 
 
336 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 He crossed in the twilight gray and cold, 
 And the pale mist hid him from mortal view; 
 We saw not the angels who met him there, 
 The gates of the city we could not see; 
 Over the river, over the river, 
 My brother stands waiting to welcome me. 
 
 Over the river, the boatman pale 
 Carried another,—the household pet; 
 Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale, 
 Darling Minnie, I see her yet. 
 She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands, 
 And fearlessly entered the phantom bark; 
 We watched it glide from the silver sands, 
 And all our sunshine grew strangely dark; 
 We know she is safe on the farther side, 
 Where all the angels and ransomed be; 
 Over the river, the mystic river, 
 My childhood’s idol is waiting for me. 
 
 For none return from those quiet shores, 
 
 Who cross with the boatman, cold and pale; 
 We hear the dip of the golden oars, 
 
 We catch a gleam of the snowy sail— 
 And lo! they have passed from our yearning heart; 
 
 They cross the stream and are gone for aye; 
 We may not sunder the veil apart 
 
 That hides from our vision the gates of day; 
 We only know that their barks no more 
 
 May sail with us over Life’s stormy sea; 
 Yet, somewhere I know, on the unseen shore, 
 
 They watch and beckon and wait for me. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 337 
 
 And I sit and think when the sunset’s gold 
 Is flushing river and hill and shore, 
 I shall one day stand by the water cold, 
 And list for the sound of the boatman’s oar; 
 I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail, 
 I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand, 
 I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale 
 To the better shore of the spirit land; 
 I shall know the loved who have gone before, 
 And joyfully sweet will the meeting be, 
 When over the river, the peaceful river, 
 The Angel of Death shall carry me. 
 
 Le 
 
 By May “RILEY SMITH. 
 
 The writer of this pathetic poem is Mrs. Albert Smith, of Chicago, I1., 
 but formerly May Louise Riley, of Brighton, New York, where she was 
 born in 1842. She is a magazine writer, and excels in descriptive poems of 
 a personal nature. 
 
 | F, sitting with this little worn-out shoe 
 
 And scarlet stocking lying on my knee, 
 I knew the little feet had pattered through 
 
 The pearl-set gates that lie ’twixt heaven and me, 
 I could be reconciled and happy, too, 
 
 And look with glad eyes toward the Jasper sea. 
 
 If, in the morning, when the song of birds 
 Reminds me of a music far more sweet, 
 I listen for his pretty, broken words, 
 And for the music of his dimpled feet, 
 I could be almost happy, though I heard 
 
 No answer, and but saw his vacant seat. 
 22 
 mi 
 
338 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ; I could be glad if, when the day is done, 
 And all its cares and heartaches laid away, 
 I could look westward to the hidden sun, 
 
 And, with a heart full of sweet yearnings, say: * 
 “ 'To-night ?’m nearer to my little one, 2 
 By just the travel of a single day.” # f 
 
 If I could know these little feet were shod 
 In sandals wrought of light in better lands, | 
 And that the foot-prints of a tender God ¥ 
 Ran side by side with him in golden sands, q 
 I could bow cheerfully and kiss the rod, 
 Since Benny was in safer, wiser hands. 
 
 If he were dead I would not sit to-day 
 And stain with tears the wee sock on my knee; 
 I would not kiss the tiny shoe and say, 
 “Bring back again my little boy to me!” 
 I would be patient, knowing it was God’s way, 
 And wait to meet him o’er death’s silent sea. 
 
 i 
 A 
 i 
 by 
 
 But, oh, to know the feet once pure and white, 
 The haunts of vice had boldly ventured in; 2m 
 
 The hands that should have battled for the right, 
 Had been wrung crimson in the clasp of sin, 
 
 And, should he knock at Heaven’s gate to-night, 
 To fear my boy could hardly enter in! 
 
 SENT TO HEAVEN. 
 
 By ADELAIDE ANN PROCTER. 
 
 Miss Procter was born in Bedford Square, London, on the 30th of Octo- 
 ber, 1825, and died on the 2d of February, 1864. Her father was distin- 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 339 
 
 guished in literature, under the nom-de-plume of Barry Cornwall, and was 
 the intimate friend of Charles Dickens. She was highly educated, of a 
 serious, sensitive nature, and sacrificed her strength in a round of benevo- 
 lent pursuits, under the conviction that her life must be devoted to miti- 
 gating the sufferings of mankind. Her poems are comprised in one small 
 volume, edited by Charles Dickens, and are greatly quoted and adnured. 
 The one given here is set to music, and sung under the title of The ‘es- 
 sage. It is popular, both as a poem and a concert piece. 
 
 HAD a message to send her— 
 To her whom my soul loved best, 
 But I had my task to finish, 
 And she was gone home to rest. 
 
 To rest in the far bright Heaven, 
 Oh, so far away from here, 
 
 It was vain to speak to my darling, 
 For I knew she could not hear. 
 
 I had a message to send her, 
 So tender and true and sweet; 
 I longed for an angel to bear it, 
 And lay it down at her feet. 
 
 I placed it, one summer evening, 
 On a cloudlet’s fleecy breast, 
 
 But it faded in golden splendor, 
 And died in the crimson west. 
 
 I gave it the lark next morning, 
 And I watched it soar and soar, 
 But its pinions grew faint and weary, 
 And it fluttered to earth once more, 
 
340 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 To the heart of a rose I told it, 
 And the perfume sweet and rare, 
 Growing faint on the blue, bright ether, 
 Was lost in the balmy air. 
 
 I laid it upon a censer, 
 And I saw the incense rise, 
 
 But its clouds of rolling silver 
 Could not reach the far blue skies. 
 
 I cried in my passionate longing ;— 
 “Has the earth no Angel friend 
 Who will carry my love the message 
 That my heart desires to send ?” 
 
 Then I heard a strain of music 
 So mighty, so pure, so clear, 
 That my very sorrow was silent, 
 And my heart stood still to hear. 
 
 And I felt in my soul’s deep yearning 
 At last the sure answer stir— 
 ~ The music will go up to Heaven 
 And carry my thought to her.” 
 
 It rose in harmonious rushing 
 Of mingled voices and strings, 
 
 And I tenderly laid my message | 
 Cn the music’s outspread wings. : 
 
 I heard it float farther and farther, 
 In sound more perfect than speech, 
 
 Farther than sight can follow, 
 Farther than soul can reach, 
 
This exquisite ballad is usually published as anonymous, 
 
 WOMEN AS POETS. 
 
 And I know that at last my message 
 Has passed through the golden gate, 
 So my heart is no longer restless, 
 And I am content to wait. 
 
 SOMEBODY’S DARLING. 
 
 By Marra R. La CASTE. 
 
 341 
 
 Like Beau- 
 
 tiful Snow, it has had a number of claimants, but no name has remained 
 attached to it until Epes Sargent rescued it in 1880, and published it in his 
 
 collection, with extracts from letters written by Miss La Caste. 
 
 The poem 
 
 was first published, with her name attached, in the Southern Churchman. 
 
 She was living in Savannah, Georgia, when she published it. 
 
 She is of 
 
 French parentage, and dislikes anything like notoriety. She is an attract- 
 ive lady, accomplished, and of superior mental qualifications, but has no 
 desire to shine in the world of letters. 
 
 - 
 
 NTO a ward of the white-washed walls 
 Where the dead and the dying lay, 
 Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls, 
 Somebody’s darling was borne one day. 
 Somebody’s darling, so young and so brave, 
 Wearing yet on his pale, sweet face— 
 Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave— 
 
 The lingering light of his boyhood’s grace. 
 
 Matted and damp are the curls of gold 
 Kissing the sun of that fair young brow; 
 
 Pale are the lips of delicate mold— 
 Somebody’s darling is dying now. 
 
 Back from the beautiful blue-veined brow 
 Brush all the wandering waves of gold; 
 
342 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Cross his hands on his bosom now, 
 Somebody’s darling is still and cold. 
 
 Kiss him once for somebody’s sake, 
 Murmur a prayer soft and low; 
 One bright curl from its fair mates take; 
 They were somebody’s pride you know. 
 Somebody’s hand hath rested there— 
 Was it a mother’s soft and white— 
 And have the lips of a sister fair 
 Been baptized in those waves of light? 
 
 God knows best! He was somebody’s love; 
 “‘Somebody’s” heart enshrined him there; 
 “Somebody ” wafted his name above, 
 Morn and night on the wings of prayer. 
 “Somebody” wept when he marched away, 
 Looking so handsome, brave, and grand; 
 “ Somebody’s” kiss on his forehead lay, 
 “Somebody ” clung to his parting hand. 
 
 “Somebody’s” watching and waiting for him, 
 Yearning to hold him again to their heart; 
 And there he lies with his blue eyes dim, 
 And the smiling, child-like lips apart. 
 Tenderly bury the fair young dead, 
 Pausing to drop on his grave a tear, 
 Carve on the wooden slab at his head, 
 “Somebody’s darling slumbers here.” 
 
 *. We oe =< én 
 ye, eee ee 
 
‘ahd 
 —g 
 , 5 Foy 
 
 WOMEN AS POETS. 343 
 
 DRIVING HOME THE COWS. 
 
 By KatE P. Oseoop. 
 
 Kate Putnam Osgood has written many touching and pretty poems on 
 homely, familiar subjects. She was born in Fryeburg, Maine, in 1840, and 
 has done a great- deal of miscellaneous literary work that is far above 
 mediocrity. 
 
 ae of the clover and blue-eyed grass 
 He turned them into the river lane; 
 One after another he let them pass, 
 Then fastened the meadow bars again. 
 
 Under the willows and over the hill, 
 
 He patiently followed their sober pace; 
 The merry whistle for once was still, 
 
 And something shadowed the sunny face. 
 
 Only a boy!—and his father had said 
 He never could let his youngest go; 
 Two already were lying dead 
 Under the feet of the trampling foe. 
 
 But after the evening work was done, 
 
 And frogs were loud in the meadow swamp, 
 Over his shoulder he slung his gun, 
 
 And stealthily followed the foot-path damp. 
 
 Across the clover and through the wheat, 
 With resolute heart and purpose gvim; 
 
 Though cold was the dew on his hurrying feet, 
 And the blind bat’s flitting startled him. 
 
 Thrice since then had the lanes been white, 
 And the orchards sweet with apple-bloom; 
 
344 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 And now, when the cows came back at night, 
 The feeble father drove them home. 
 
 For news had come to the lonely farm 
 That three were lying where two had lain, 
 And the old man’s tremulous, palsied arm 
 Could never lean on a son’s again. 
 
 The summer day grew cool and late— 
 
 He went for the cows when the work was done; 
 But down the lane, as he opened the gate, 
 
 He saw them coming one by one. 
 
 Brindle, Ebony, Speckle, and Bess, 
 Shaking their horns on the evening wind, 
 Cropping the butterflies out of the grass, 
 But who was it following close behind. 
 
 Loosely swung in the idle air 
 The empty sleeve of army blue; 
 
 And worn and pale from the crisping air, 
 Looked out a face that the father knew. 
 
 For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn 
 And yield their dead unto life again, 
 
 And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn 
 In golden glory at last may wane. 
 
 The great tears sprang to their meeting eyes, 
 
 For the heart must speak when the lips are dumb, 
 And under the silent evening skies 
 
 Together they followed the cattle home. 
 
“THE GREAT TEARS SPRANG TO THEIR MEETING EYES, 
 FOR THE HEART MUST SPEAK WHEN THE LIPS ARE DUMB," 
 
. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 345 
 
 THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. 
 
 By Exiza Cook, 
 
 This favorite English writer was born in 1817, in Southwark, London. 
 Her poems are mostly on homely household topics, and are written with 
 but little exercise of the power of imagination, but they have always 
 pleased a large class of people. It is nearly half a century since The Old 
 Arm-Chair was a popularsong. It is now found in many of our best col- 
 lections of fireside poetry. 
 
 if LOVE it, I love it, and who shall dare 
 To chide me for loving the old arm-chair; 
 I’ve treasured it long as a sainted prize; 
 Pve bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs; 
 *Tis bound by a thousand ties to my heart— 
 Not a tie will break, not a link will start; 
 Would ye learn the spell, a mother sat there, 
 And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair. 
 
 In childhood’s hour I lingered near 
 
 The hallowed seat with listening ear, 
 
 And gentle words that mother would give 
 
 To fit me to die and teach me to live; 
 
 She told me shame would never betide, 
 
 With truth for my creed and God for my guide; 
 She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer, 
 
 As I knelt beside that old arm-chair. 
 
 I sat and watched her many a day, 
 
 When her eye grew dim, and her locks were gray, 
 And I almost worshipped her when she smiled, 
 And turned from her Bible to bless her child. 
 
346 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Years rolled on, but the last one sped— 
 My idol was shattered, my earth star fled; 
 I learned how much the heart can bear, 
 
 ~ When I saw her die in that old arm-chair. 
 
 Tis past! tis past! but I gaze on it now 
 
 With quivering breath and throbbing brow; 
 *Twas there she nursed me, ’twas there she died, 
 And memory flows with lava tide; 
 
 Say it is folly and deem me weak, 
 
 While the scalding drops start down my cheek; 
 But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear 
 
 My soul from a mother’s old arm-chair. 
 
 PHILIP, MY KING. 
 
 By Miss MuLock. 
 
 Miss Mulock is better known as the author of John Halifax, and other 
 popular novels, than as a poet; yet, there is hardly a collection of fine 
 poems to be found which does not include one from her pen. As a writer 
 she has been before the public for nearly half a century. Miss Mulock was 
 born in 1826, and married to Mr. Craik in 1865. John Halifax was written 
 in 1857. She contributes to English and American periodicals, and is popu- 
 lar with all classes of readers. As a writer she is best known by her maiden 
 name, Dinah Maria Mulock; her poem and song, Philip, my King, is the 
 best known of her verses. Miss Mulock was born in England, at Stoke- 
 upon-Trent, Staffordshire. 
 
 ‘* Who bears upon his baby brow the round 
 And top of sovereignty.” 
 
 lee at me with thy large brown eyes, 
 Philip, my king. 
 
 Round whom the enshadowing purple lies 
 
 Of babyhood’s royal dignities. 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 347 
 
 Lay on my neck thy tiny hand 
 
 With love’s invisible sceptre laden, 
 
 I am thine Esther to command 
 
 Till thou shalt find a queen-handmaiden, 
 Philip, my king. 
 
 Oh, the day when thou goest a-wooing, 
 Philip, my king, 
 
 When those beautiful lips ’gin suing, 
 
 And some gentle heart’s bars undoing, 
 
 Thou dost enter love-crowned, and there 
 
 Sittest. love-glorified. Rule kindly, 
 
 Tenderly over thy kingdom fair, 
 
 For we that love, ah! we love so blindly, 
 Philip, my king. 
 
 Up from thy sweet mouth—up to thy brow, 
 Philip, my king, 
 The spirit that there les sleeping now 
 May rise like a giant and make men bow, 
 As to one heaven-chosen amongst his peers. 
 My Saul, than thy brethren taller and fairer, 
 Let me behold thee in future years— 
 Yet thy head needeth a circlet rarer, 
 Philip, my king. 
 
 A wreath, not of gold, but of palm—one day, 
 Philip, my king. 
 
 Thou, too, must tread as we trod, a way 
 
 Thorny and cruel, and cold and gray; 
 
 Rebels within thee, and foes without, 
 
 Will snatch at thy crown. But march on, glorious 
 
 Martyr, yet monarch, till angels shout, 
 
 As thou sit’st at the feet or God, victorious, 
 * Philip, the king!” 
 
348 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 GETHSEMANE. 
 
 By ELLA WHEELER. 
 
 Miss Ella Wheeler is a native of Wisconsin, and is still a comparatively 
 young woman. She has published a volume of poems recently on the pas- 
 sions and affections, which has been received with much favor, and upon 
 her donating a copy to the public library at Milwaukee, Wis., the citizens 
 presented her with a purse of $500 in gold, asa testimonial of their esteem. 
 Miss Wheeler has made literature her profession since she was fifteen years 
 old. 
 
 N golden youth, when seems the earth 
 A summer land for singing mirth, 
 
 When souls are glad and hearts are light, 
 And not a shadow lurks in sight, - | 
 We do not know it, but there lies 
 Somewhere, veiled under evening skies, 
 A garden all must some time see, 
 Somewhere lies our Gethsemane. 
 
 With joyous steps we go our ways, 
 Love lends a halo to the days, 
 
 Light sorrows sail like clouds afar; 
 We laugh and say how strong we are. 
 We hurry on—and, hurrying, go 
 Close to the border-land of woe 
 
 That waits for you and waits for me— 
 Forever waits Gethsemane. 
 
 Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams, 
 Bridged over by our broken dreams, 
 
 Behind the misty cape of years, 
 
 Close to the great salt font of tears, 
 
: ne 
 ~ r 
 S 
 rc AN S> 
 
 “WE MEASURED THE RIOTOUS BABY 
 
 HE COTTAGE WALL; 
 
 AGAINST T 
 A LILLY GREW AT THE THRESHOLD, 
 
 AND THE BOY WAS JUST SO TALL.” 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. _ 349 
 
 The garden lies; strive as you may 
 You cannot miss it in your way. 
 All paths that have been or shall be, 
 Pass somewhere through Gethsemane! 
 
 All those who journey soon or late 
 Must pass within the garden’s gate; 
 Must kneel alone in darkness there, 
 And battle with some fierce despair.* 
 God pity those who cannot say, 
 
 * Not mine, but thine;” who only pray, 
 
 “Let this cup pass,’ and cannot see 
 The purpose of Gethsemane. 
 
 MEASURING THE BABY. 
 
 By Emma Atice BROWNE. 
 
 Emma Alice Browne (Mrs. E. A. Bevar) is at present a resident of Dan- 
 ville, Ill., where, in a quiet home, she devotes her life to literary pursuits. 
 The sweet, pathetic little poem on ‘‘ Measuring the Baby” was written 
 during a night vigil at the cradle of a beloved child, ‘‘sick unto death.” 
 Mrs. Bevar has kindly written and corrected it for this publication, and 
 aliudes to it in touching language as a real incident in her own life. The 
 lady is a Southerner, the daughter of a clergyman, the Rev. William A. 
 Browne, who died when his gifted daughter was still very young. In a pri- 
 vate letter Mrs. Bevar says: ‘‘At thirteen I was a regular and paid con- 
 tributor to the Louisville (Ky.) Journal, the New York Ledger, Philadel- 
 phia Saturday Evening Post, and other current publications.” | Mrs. Bevar 
 is a lineal descendant of Mrs, Hemans, the English poetess, whose maiden 
 name was Browne, and has much of that graceful style of writing pathetic 
 verse with a delicacy of poetic fervor that is wholly original. Mrs. Bevar 
 has been a widow for some years, although still a young woman, 
 
 \ 7 measured the riotous baby 
 Against the cottage wall; 
 
350 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 A lily grew at the threshold, 
 And the boy was just so tall! 
 A royal tiger lily, 
 With spots of purple and gold, 
 And a heart like a jeweled chalice, 
 The fragrant dews to hold. 
 
 Without the blue birds whistled, 
 High up in the old roof trees, 
 And to and fro at the window 
 The red rose rocked her bees; 
 And the wee pink fists of the baby 
 Were never a moment still, 
 Snatching at shine and shadow, 
 That danced on the lattice sill! 
 
 His eyes were wide as blue-bells, 
 His mouth like a flower unblown, 
 
 Two little bare feet, like funny white mice, 
 Peep’d out from his snowy gown; 
 
 And we thought, with a thrill of rapture, 
 That yet had a touch of pain, 
 
 When June rolls around with her roses 
 We'll measure the boy again! ) 
 
 Ah, me! Ina darkened chamber, 
 With the sunshine shut away, 
 Thro’ tears that fell like a bitter rain, 
 We measured. the boy to-day! 
 And the little bare feet, that were dimpled 
 And sweet as a budding rose, 
 Lay side by side together, 
 In the hush of a long repose! 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 351 
 
 Up from the dainty pillow, 
 
 White as the rising dawn, 
 The fair little face lay smiling, 
 _ With the light of Heaven thereon! 
 And the dear little hands, like rose-leaves 
 ae Dropt from a rose, lay still— 
 | Never to snatch at the sunbeams 
 
 That crept to the shrouded sill! 
 
 We measured the sleeping baby 
 With ribbons white as snow, 
 
 For the shining rose-wood casket 
 That waited him below; 
 
 And out of the darkened chamber 
 
 # We went with a childless moan:— 
 
 ae. To the height of the sinless Angels 
 
 ar. Our little one had grown! 
 
 ~ 
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 
 
 By Lizzie York Cass. 
 
 _ Mrs. Lizzie York Case is a Southern lady, a resident of Baltimore and 
 vicinity for many years, and at present living at Mobile, Alabama, where 
 ee her husband, Lieutenant J. Madison Case, is stationed in the service of the 
 United States Navy. Mrs. Case is descended from Quaker ancestry, and 
 _ much of the grace and versatility of character she possessesis derived from 
 a that source. Many of her poems have been published in household collec- 
 tions and school readers, and are much admired for their high educational 
 Standard. 
 
 WO travelers started on a tour 
 With trust and knowledge laden; 
 
 One was a man with mighty brain, 
 
 _ And one a gentle maiden. 
 
 oA ae 
 
352 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 They joined their hands and vowed to be 
 Companions for a season. 
 
 The gentle maiden’s name was Faith, 
 The mighty man’s was Reason. 
 
 He sought all knowledge from this world, 
 And every world anear it; 
 
 All matter and all mind were his, 
 
 But hers was only spirit. 
 
 If any stars were missed from Heaven, 
 His telescope could find them; 
 
 But while he only found the stars, 
 
 She found the Gop behind them. 
 
 He sought for truth above, below, 
 
 All hidden things revealing; 
 
 She only sought it woman-wise, 
 
 And found it in her feeling. 
 
 He said, ‘This Earth ’s a rolling ball,” 
 And so doth science prove it; 
 
 He but discovered that it moves, 
 
 She found the springs that move it. 
 
 He reads with geologic eye 
 
 The record of the ages; 
 Unfolding strata, he translates 
 Earth’s wonder-written pages. 
 He digs around a mountain base 
 And measures it with plummet; 
 She leaps it with a single bound 
 And stands upon the summit. 
 
 He brings to light the hidden force 
 In nature’s labyrinths lurking, 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 353 
 
 And binds it to his onward car 
 
 To do his mighty working. 
 
 He sends his message ’cross the earth, 
 And down where sea gems glisten; 
 She sendeth hers to Gop himself, 
 Who bends His ear to listen. 
 
 All things in science, beauty, art, 
 In common they inherit; 
 
 But he has only clasped the form, 
 While she has clasped the spirit. 
 
 He tries from Earth to forge a key 
 To ope the gate of Heaven! 
 
 That key is in the maiden’s heart, 
 And back its bolts are driven. 
 
 They part! Without her all is dark; 
 His knowledge vain and hollow. 
 
 For Faith has entered in with Gop, 
 Where Reason may not follow. 
 
 REQUIESCAM. 
 
 ; . 4 Mrs. Robert S. Howland, an American lady, who is not known as 4 
 _ writer, is the author of this beautiful poem, said to have been found under 
 : the pillow of a wounded soldier near Port Royal, 1864. 
 : LAY me down to sleep, 
 With little thought or care 
 Whether my waking find 
 Me here or there. 
 
 A bowing, burdened head, 
 _ That only asks to rest 
 « 
 
354 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Unquestioningly upon 
 A loving breast. 
 
 My good right hand forgets 
 It’s cunning now— 
 
 To march the weary march 
 I know not how. 
 
 I am not eager, bold, 
 
 Nor strong—all that is past. 
 I am ready not to do 
 
 At last ! at last ! 
 
 My half-day’s work is done, 
 And this is all my part; 
 
 I give a patient God 
 My patient heart. 
 
 And grasp his banner still 
 Though all its blue be dim; 
 These stripes, no less than stars, 
 
 Lead after Him. 
 
 HANNAH BINDING SHOES. 
 
 By Lucy Larcom. 
 
 pee lone Hannah, 
 Sitting at the window binding shoes, 
 Faded, wrinkled, — 
 Sitting, stitching in a mournful muse; 
 Bright-eyed beauty once was she 
 When the bloom was on the tree. 
 Spring and winter 
 Hannah’s at the window binding shoes. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 355 
 
 Not a neighbor 
 Passing, nod or answer will refuse 
 To her whisper, _ 
 Is there from the fishers any news? 
 Oh, her heart’s adrift with one 
 On an endless voyage gone. 
 Night and morning 
 -Hannah’s at the window binding shoes. 
 
 Fair young Hannah! 
 Ben, the sun-burned fisher, gayly wooes; 
 - Hale and clever, 
 For a willing heart and hand he sues. 
 May-day skies are all aglow, 
 And the waves are laughing so, 
 For her wedding, 
 Hannah leaves her window and her shoes. 
 
 May is passing. 
 Mid the apple-boughs a pigeon coos. 
 Hannah shudders, 
 
 For the mild south-wester mischief brews. 
 Round the rocks of Marblehead, 
 Outward bound a schooner sped, 
 
 - Silent—lonesome, 
 Hannah’s at the window binding shoes. 
 
 Tis November; 
 Now no tear her wasted cheek bedews. 
 : From Newfoundland 
 Not a sail returning will she lose, 
 Whispering hoarsely, “ Fishermen, 
 Have you, have you heard of Ben.” 
 "Y Old with watching, 
 -___ Hannah’s at the window binding shoes. 
 
 Shoat Py 
 
356 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Twenty winters 
 Bleach and tear the ragged shore she views; 
 Twenty seasons, 
 Never one has brought her any news. 
 Still her dim eyes silently 
 Chase the white sail o’er the sea. 
 Hopeless, faithful, 
 Hannah’s at the window binding shoes, 
 
 CURFEW MUST NOT RING TO-NIGHT. 
 
 By Mrs. Rosa Hartwick THORPE. 
 
 EK NGLAND’S sun was slowly setting o’er the hill-tops far 
 
 away, | 
 
 Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day; — 
 
 And its last rays kissed the forehead of a man and maiden fair,— 
 
 He with steps so slow and weary; she with sunny, floating hair; 
 
 He with bowed head, sad and een she with lips so cold | 
 and white, 
 
 Struggled to keep back the murmur, “ Curfew must not ring to- 
 night.” | 
 
 “«Sexton,” Bessie’s white lips faltered, pointing to the prison old, 
 
 With its walls so tall and gloomy,—moss-grown walls dark, 
 
 damp, and cold,— 
 
 [ve a lover in that prison, doomed this very night to die, 
 
 At the ringing of the curfew, and no earthly help is nigh. 
 
 Cromwell will not come till sunset,” and her lips grew strangely 
 white, 
 
 As she spoke in husky ,whispers, “Curfew must not ring 
 to-night.” 
 
Tana” aa a 
 
 ii 
 ll 
 
 | i / 
 
 i{l 
 
 "SHE WITH QUICK STEP BOUNDED FORWARD, SPRANG WITHIN THE OLD 
 CHURCH DOOR," 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 357 
 
 “Bessie,” calmly spoke the sexton (every word pierced her 
 young heart 
 Like a gleaming death- vienaeg arrow—like a deadly poisoned 
 dart, 
 me “ ‘Long, long years Pv rung the curfew from that gloomy, 
 shadowed tower; 
 Every evening, just at sunset, it has tolled the twilight hour. 
 I have done-‘my duty ever, tried to do it just and right; 
 Now Im old, I will not miss it, Curfew bell must ring 
 to-night !” ) 
 
 oe — Wild her eyes and pale her features, stern and white her 
 - thoughtful brow; 
 
 _ And within her heart’s deep centre Bessie made a solemn vow. 
 7 She had listened while the judges read, without a tear or sigh, 
 At the ringing of the Curfew Basil Underwood must die.” 
 
 and bright; 
 One low murmur, faintly spoken, “Curfew must not ring 
 to-night !” 
 
 She with quick step bounded forward, sprang within the old 
 : church-door, 
 
 eft the old man coming slowly, paths he’d trod so oft before; 
 Yot one moment paused the maiden, but with cheek and brow 
 aglow, ; 
 
 ggered up the gloomy tower, where the bell swung to and 
 om ae 
 
 And her breath came fast and faster, and her eyes grew large — 
 
 Ag “aw * 
 
358 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 She has reached the topmost ladder; o’er her hangs the great 
 dark bell; 
 
 Awful is the gloom beneath her, like the pathway down to hell. 
 
 See! the ponderous tongue is swinging; ’tis the hour of curfew . 
 now, 
 
 And the sight has chilled her bosom, stopped her breath and 
 paled her brow. 
 
 Shall she let it ring? No, never! her eyes flash with sudden 
 light, 
 
 As she springs, and grasps it firmly: “Curfew shall not ring 
 to-night !” 
 
 Out she swung, far out,—the city seemed a, speck of light 
 below— 
 
 There, ’twixt heaven and earth suspended, as the bell swung to 
 and fro. 
 
 And the Sexton at the bell-rope, old and deaf, heard not the bell, 
 
 Sadly thought that twilight curfew rang young Basil’s funeral 
 knell; 
 
 Still the maiden clinging firmly, quivering lip and fair face 
 white, 
 
 Stilled her frightened heart’s wild beating: “ Curfew shall not 
 ring to-night.” 
 
 It was o’er—the bell ceased swaying; and the maiden stepped 
 
 once more 
 
 Firmly on the damp old ladder, where for hundred years before 
 
 Human foot had not been planted. The brave deed that she 
 had done 3 
 
 Should be told the long ages after. As the rays of setting sun 
 
 Light the sky with golden beauty, aged sires, with heads of 
 white, 
 
 Tell the children why the Curfew did not ring that one sad night. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 359 
 
 O’er the distant hills comesCromwell. Bessie sees him; and her 
 brow, 
 
 Lately white with sickening horror, has no anxious traces now. 
 
 At his feet she tells her story, shows her hands all bruised and 
 torn; 
 
 And her sweet young face still haggard, with the anguish it had 
 worn, : 
 
 Touched his heart with sudden pity, lit his eyes with misty 
 light, 
 
 “Go ! your lover lives,” cried Cromwell, “ Curfew shall not ring 
 to-night.” 
 
 ' Wide they flung the massive portals, led the prisoner forth to 
 | die, 
 
 All his bright young life before him, ’neath the darkening 
 
 English sky. 
 
 Bessie came, with flying footsteps, eyes aglow with lovelight 
 : | gp. . sweet, 
 Kneeling on the turf beside him, laid his pardon at his feet. 
 In his brave strong arms he clasped her, kissed the face upturned 
 | and white, 
 
 Whispered, “Darling, you have saved me, Curfew will not ring 
 Beisscht,? 
 
 am THE GUEST. 
 
 By Harriet McEwan KIMBALL. 
 
 Miss Kimball is best known as a writer of devotional verse, her first pub- 
 shed work being a book of hymns. She has the true inspirational quality 
 ch distinguishes the poet, and her poems are much admired by thought- 
 and intellectual readers. She is a native of this country, and was born 
 n New Hampshire i in 1834, 
 
360 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 eae sorrow sat with me, 
 I was sighing heavily; 
 Lamp and fire were out; the rain 
 Wildly beat the window-pane. 
 In the dark we heard a knock, 
 And a hand was on the lock, 
 One in waiting spake to me, 
 Saying sweetly, 
 “T am come to sup with thee.” 
 
 All my room was dark and damp; 
 “ Sorrow ” said I, “trim the lamp; 
 
 Light the fire and cheer thy face; 
 
 Set the guest-chair in its place.” 
 
 And again I heard the knock; 
 
 in the dark I found the lock; 
 “Enter! I have turned the key, 
 
 Enter stranger, 
 Who art come to sup with me.” 
 
 Opening wide the door he came; 
 
 But I could not speak his name; 
 
 In the guest-chair took his place; 
 
 But I could not see his face,— 
 
 When my cheerful fire was beaming, 
 
 When my little lamp was gleaming, 
 
 And the feast was spread for three— 
 Lo, my Master 
 
 Was the Guest that supped with me! 
 
 be ona" es 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 7 361 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE POOR. 
 
 By Lapy WILDE (SPERANZA). 
 
 Lady Wilde, at present a resident of London, England, was born in Ire- 
 land about the year 1830. She is the mother of Oscar Wilde, who has 
 ; achieved almost a world-wide celebrity as the apostle of beauty. Many 
 years ago Lady Wilde contributed to the Dublin Nation poems which 
 ’ attracted attention, over the name of ‘‘ Speranza,” which poems have since 
 been issued in book form. She is in sympathy with all political move- 
 ments which are for the good of her native country, and is impulsive and 
 
 patriotic. | 
 
 | 
 
 a WA ever sorrow like to our sorrow, 
 
 : O, God above ? 
 
 & Will our night never change into a morrow 
 
 : Of joy and love? 
 
 A deadly gloom is on us waking, sleeping, 
 Like the darkness at noontide 
 
 That fell upon the pallid mother weeping 
 By the Crucified. 
 
 ‘Before us die our brothers of starvation, 
 Around are cries of famine and despair; 
 
 Where is hope for us, or comfort, or salvation— 
 Where—oh where ? 
 
 If the angels ever hearken downward bending, 
 They are weeping, we are sure, 
 
 At the litanies of human groans ascending 
 From the crushed hearts of the poor. 
 
 When the human rests in love upon the human, 
 All grief is light; 
 
 But who lends one kind glance to illumine 
 Our life-long night ? 
 
362 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 The air around is ringing with their laughter— 
 God only made the rich to smile; 
 
 But we in our rags and want and woe—we follow after, 
 Weeping the while. | 
 
 And the laughter seems but uttered to deride us, 
 When, oh, when 
 
 Will fall the frozen barriers that divide us 
 From other men? 
 
 Will ignorance forever thus enslave us? 
 Will misery forever lay us low? 
 
 All are eager with their insults; but to save us 
 None, none we know. 
 
 We never knew a childhood’s mirth and gladness, 
 Nor the proud heart of youth free and brave; 
 Oh, a death-like dream of wretchedness and sadness, 
 Is life’s weary journey to the grave. 
 Day by day we lower sink, and lower, 
 Till the God-like soul within 
 Falls crushed beneath the fearful demon power 
 Of poverty and sin. 
 
 So we toil on, on with fever burning 
 In heart and brain; 
 So we toil on, on through bitter scorning, 
 Want, woe and pain. 
 We dare not raise our eyes to the blue heaven, 
 _ Or the toil must cease— 
 We dare not breathe the fresh air God has given 
 One hour in peace. 
 
 We must toil, though the light of life is burning 
 Oh, how dim; 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 
 
 We must toil on our sick-bed, feebly turning 
 Our eyes to Him 
 Who alone can hear the pale lips faintly saying, 
 With scarce moved breath, 
 While the pale hands, uplifted, aid the praying: 
 “Lord, grant us death!” 
 
 THE BETTER LAND. 
 
 _ By Mrs. Feuicira D. Hemans. 
 
 063 
 
 Mrs. Hemans was born in Liverpool, England, in 1798, and died in 1835. 
 Her maiden name was Felicia Dorothea Browne. She married Captain 
 Hemans in 1812, but it was an unhappy marriage, and in the latter part of 
 her life they separated, and she devoted her time to the education of her five 
 sons, and her poetical work. The tenderness and pathos of her poems, 
 give them a charm that their mere intellectual merit would not have 
 
 achieved, and they will always be popular in the household. 
 
 HEAR thee speak of the better land, 
 Thou call’st its children a happy band; 
 Mother! Oh, where is that radiant shore ? 
 Shall we not seek it and weep no more ? 
 Is it where the flower of the orange blows, 
 And the fire-flies glance through the myrtle boughs ?” 
 Not there, not there, my child! ” 
 
 “Ts it where the feathery palm trees rise, 
 And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? 
 Or, midst the green islands of glittering seas, 
 Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, 
 And strange bright birds on their starry wings 
 Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? 
 
 Not there, not there, my child! 
 
364 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Is it far away in some region old, 
 Where the rivers wander o’er sands of gold, 
 Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, 
 And the diamond lights up the secret. mine, 
 And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ? 
 Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? 
 
 ‘Not there, not there, my child !” 
 
 Kye hath not seen it, my gentle boy, 
 
 Kar hath not heard its deep sounds of joy; 
 
 Dreams cannot picture a world so fair— 
 
 Sorrow and death may not enter there; 
 
 Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom 
 
 Far beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb. 
 “Tt is there, it is there, my child!” 
 
 GONE IS GONE, AND DEAD IS DEAD. 
 
 By Miss Lizziz DoTEn. 
 
 Miss Lizzie Doten was born in Plymouth, Massachusetts, about the year 
 1820. She is what is known as an inspirational writer, and has published 
 two volumes of poems which have attracted much attention in England, as 
 well as here. Her poetry is the rapid verse of the improvisator, produced 
 without any intellectual purpose or mental labor, but with certain peculiar 
 
 qualities of strength and plaintiveness. 
 
 “‘On the returning to the inn, he found there a wandering minstrel—a 
 woman—singing, and accompanying her voice with the music of a harp. 
 The burden of the song was, ‘‘Gone is gone, and dead is dead.”—Jean 
 
 Paul Richter. 
 
 ONE is gone, and dead is dead;” 
 
 Words to hopeless sorrow wed; 
 Words from deepest sorrow wrung, 
 Which a lonely wanderer sung, 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 365 
 
 While her harp prolonged the strain, 
 
 Like a spirit’s cry of pain 
 
 When all hope with life is fled. 
 “Gone is gone, and dead is dead.” 
 
 Mournful singer! hearts unknown 
 Thrill responsive to that tone, 
 By a common weal and woe 
 Kindred sorrows all must know. 
 - Lips all tremulous with pain 
 Oft repeat that sad refrain 
 When the fatal shaft is sped. 
 “Gone is gone, and dead is dead.” 
 
 Pain and death are everywhere; 
 
 In the earth, and sea, and air, 
 
 And the sunshine’s golden glance, 
 
 And the Heaven’s serene expanse. 
 
 With a silence calm and high, 
 
 Seem to mock that mournful cry 
 
 Wrung from hearts by hope unfed. 
 “Gone is gone, and dead is dead.” 
 
 As the stars which one by one, 
 Lighted at the central sun, 
 
 _ Swept across ethereal space 
 Kach to its predestined place, 
 So the soul’s Promothean fire 
 Kindled never to expire, ” 
 On its course immortal sped, 
 Is not gone and is not dead ! 
 
 By a Power to thought unknown, 
 Love shall ever seek its own, 
 
366 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 Sundered not by time or space, 
 
 With no distant dwelling-place, 
 
 Soul shall answer unto soul 
 
 As the needle to the pole; 
 
 Leaving grief’s lament unsaid. 
 “Gone is gone, and dead is dead.” 
 
 Evermore Love’s quickening breath 
 Calls the living soul from death, 
 And the resurrection’s power 
 Comes to every dying hour, 
 When the soul, with vision clear, 
 Learns that Heaven is always near, 
 Nevermore shall it be said 
 
 “ Gone is gone, and dead is dead.” 
 
 THE TWO MYSTERIES. 
 
 By Mary Mapes Dopas. 
 
 Mary Mapes Dodge is the editor of the St. Nicholas Magazine, and the 
 ‘writer of numerous pleasing poems, and various successful works for the 
 young. Mrs. Dodge is a daughter of the late Professor Mapes, and resides 
 with her family in the city of New York. 
 
 ‘‘In the middle of the room in its white coffin lay the dead child, the 
 nephew of the poet. Near it, in a great chair, sat Walt Whitman, sur- 
 rounded by little ones, and holding a beautiful little girl on hislap. She 
 looked wonderingly at the spectacle of death, and then enquiringly into the 
 old man’s face. ‘‘ You don’t know what it is, do you, my dear?” said he, 
 and added ‘‘ we don’t either.” 
 
 \ N JE know not what it is, dear, this sleep so deep and still; 
 The folded hands, the awful calm, the cheek so pale 
 and chill, 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. S67 
 
 The lids that will not lift again, though we may call and call; 
 The strange white solitude of peace that settles over all. 
 
 We know not what it means, dear, this desolate heart-pain, 
 ‘This dread to take our daily way and walk in it again; 
 
 We know not to what other sphere the loved who leave us go, 
 x _ Nor why we're left to wonder still, nor why we do not know. 
 
 But this we know, our loved and dead, if they should come this 
 day, 
 Should come and ask us, what is life? not one of us could say. 
 : _ Life is a mystery, as deep as ever death can be; 
 Yet, oh, how dear it is to us, this life we live and see! 
 
 Then might they say—those vanished ones,—and blessed is the 
 thought, 
 
 “So death is sweet to us, beloved! though we may show you 
 nought; 
 
 We may not to the quick reveal the mystery of death— 
 
 Ye cannot tell us if ye would the mystery of breath.” 
 
 The child who enters life comes not with knowledge or intent, 
 So those who enter death must go as little children went. 
 Nothing is known. But I believe that God is overhead, 
 
 And as life is to the living, so death is to the dead. 
 
 HEARTBREAK HILL. 
 
 By CreL1a THAXTER. 
 
 . Mrs. Thaxter is an American writer, a native of the Isle of Shoals, where 
 
 she lives in a pleasant home surrounded by the beauty of nature, and rich 
 in historic lore. She has published several volumes of poetry and prose, 
 and is a popular contributor to the leading magazines, 
 
WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 N Ipswich town, not far from sea, 
 Rises a hill which the people call 
 Heartbreak Hill, and its history 
 Is an old, old legend, known to all. 
 
 The selfsame dreary, worn-out tale 
 Told by all people in every clime, 
 Still to be told till the ages fail, 
 And there comes a pause in the march of time. 
 
 It was a sailor who won the heart 
 Of an Indian maiden, lithe and young; 
 And she saw him over the sea depart, 
 While sweet in her ear the promise rung; 
 
 For he cried as he kissed her wet eyes dry, 
 “Tl come back, sweetheart, keep your faith!” 
 She said, “I will watch while the moons go by.” — 
 Her love was stronger than life or death. 
 
 So this poor dusk Ariadne kept 
 
 Her watch from the hill-top rugged and steep: 
 Slowly the empty moments crept 
 
 While she studied the changing face of the deep, 
 
 Fastening her eyes upon every speck 
 That crossed the ocean within her ken:— 
 Might not her lover be walking the deck, 
 Surely and swiftly returning again? 
 
 The Isles of Shoals loomed, lonely and dim, 
 In the northeast distance far and gray, 
 And on the horizon’s uttermost rim 
 The low rock-heap of Boon Island lay. 
 
 ai aA tae 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 
 
 And north and south and west and east 
 Stretched sea and land in the blinding light, 
 
 Till evening fell, and her vigil ceased, 
 
 _ And many a hearth-glow lit the night, 
 
 To mock those set and glittering eyes 
 
 Fast growing wild as her hope went out; 
 Hateful seemed earth, and the hollow skies, 
 Like her own heart, empty of aught but doubt. 
 
 Oh, but the weary, merciless days, 
 With the sun above, with the sea afar,— 
 No change in her fixed and wistful gaze 
 From the morning red to the evening star ! 
 
 Oh, the winds that blew, and the birds that sang, 
 The calms that smiled, and the storms that rolled, 
 
 The bells from the town beneath, that rang _ 
 Through the summer’s heat and the winter’s cold! 
 
 The flash of the plunging surges white, 
 The soaring gull’s wild, boding cry,— 
 
 She was weary of all; there was no delight 
 In heaven or earth, and she longed to die. 
 
 What was it to her though the dawn should paint 
 With delicate beauty skies and seas ? 
 
 But the swift, sad sunset splendors faint 
 Made her soul sick with memories, 
 
 Drowning in sorrowful purple a sail 
 
 In the distant east, where shadows grew, 
 Till the twilight shrouded it cold and pale, 
 And the tide of her anguish rose anew. 
 
 369 
 
370 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Like a slender statue carved of stone 
 She sat, with hardly motion or breath, 
 She wept no tears and she made no moan, 
 But her love was stronger than life or death. 
 
 He never came back! Yet faithful still, 
 She watched from the hill-top her life away: 
 And the townsfolk christened it Heartbreak Hill, 
 And it bears the name to this very day. 
 
 THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE, 1571. 
 
 By JEAN INGELOW. - 
 
 Miss Ingelow is an English poet, born at Ipswich, and is now about fifty 
 years old. She has written some interesting literature for children, one or — 
 two novels, and a volume of poems. The one given here is the most popu- 
 lar of all her writings. It is much admired as a recitation. 
 
 HE old mayor climbed the belfry tower, 
 The ringers rang by two, by three; ~ 
 “ Pull, if ye never pulled before; 
 Good ringers, pull your best,” quoth he, 
 “Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston Bells! 
 Play all your changes, all your swells, 
 Play uppe, the Brides of Enderby.” 
 
 Men say it was a stolen tyde— 
 
 The Lord that sent it, He knows all; 
 But in mine ears doth still abide 
 
 The message that the bells let fall; 
 And there was naught of strange beside 
 The flight of mews and peewits pied 
 
 By millions crouched on the old sea-wall. 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 
 
 I sat and spun within the doore, 
 _ My thread brake off, I raised my eyes, 
 The level rim, like ruddy ore 
 Lay sinking in the barren skies; 
 And dark against day’s golden death 
 She moved where Lindis wandereth,— 
 My sonne’s faire wife, Elizabeth. 
 
 “‘Cusha! cusha! cusha! ” calling, 
 For the dews will soon be falling. 
 Farre away I heard her song, 
 
 “‘Cusha! cusha! ” all along 
 Where the reedy Lindis floweth, 
 
 Floweth, floweth, 
 
 From the meads where melick groweth, 
 Faintly came her milking song— 
 
 “‘ Cusha! cusha! cusha! ” calling, 
 For the dews will soon be falling; 
 Leave your meadow-grasses mellow, 
 Mellow, mellow; 
 Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow; 
 Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightr wot, 
 Quit the stalk of parsley hollow, 
 Hollow, hollow; 
 Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow! 
 From the clovers lift your head; 
 Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, 
 : Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow 
 Jetty to the milking shed.” 
 
 If it be long—ay, long ago, 
 _-‘When I beginne to think howe long 
 
 371 
 
312 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 Againe I hear the Lindis flow 
 
 Swift as an arrow, sharp and strong; 
 And all the aire it seemeth mee 
 3in full of floating bells (sayth shee), 
 That ring the tune of Enderby. 
 
 Alle fresh the level pasture lay, 
 And not a shadow mote be seene 
 Save where, full fyve good miles away, 
 The steeple towered from out the greene, 
 And lo! the great bell far and wide 
 Was heard in all the country-side 
 That Saturday at eventide. 
 
 The swanherds, where their sedges are, 
 Moved on in sunset’s golden breath; 
 
 The shepherde lads I heard afarre, 
 And my sonne’s wife, Elizabeth; 
 
 Till floating o’er the grassy sea 
 
 Came downe that kyndly message free 
 
 The “ Brides of Mavis Enderby.” 
 
 Then some looked up into the sky, 
 And all along where Lindis flows 
 To where the goodly vessels lie 
 And where the lordly steeple shows; 
 They sayde, ‘‘ And why should this thing be? 
 What danger lowers by land or sea ? 
 They ring the tune of Enderby!” 
 
 For evil news from Mablethorpe, 
 Of pyrate galleys warping downe— ~ 
 For shippes ashore beyond the scorpe, 
 They have not spared to wake the towne; 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 373 
 
 But while the west bin red to see, 
 And storms be none and pyrates flee, _ 
 Why ring “The Brides of Enderby we 
 
 I looked without, and lo! my sonne 
 Came riding down with might and main; 
 He raised a shout as he drew on, 
 Till all the welkin rang again: 
 7 Rlizabeth! Elizabeth! 
 | (A sweeter woman ne’er drew breath 
 ~ Than my son’s wife, Elizabeth.) 
 
 t 
 4 
 f 
 { 
 
 “The old sea-wall (he cryed) is downe, 
 The rising tide comes on apace, 
 And boats adrift in yonder towne 
 Go sailing uppe the market-place.” 
 a He shook as one that looks on death, 
 “God save you, mother,” straight he sayeth, 
 “ Where is my wife, Elizabeth ? ” 
 
 “Good sonne, where Lindis winds away, 
 With her two bairns I marked her long, 
 And ere yon bells began to play 
 Afar I heard her milking-song.” 
 
 He looked across the grassy lea, 
 To right, to left, ‘‘ Ho Enderby!” 
 ‘ They rang “The Brides of Enderby!” 
 
 With that he cried and beat his breast, 
 For lo! along the river’s bed | 
 A mighty eygre reared his crest, 
 And uppe the Lindis raging sped; 
 It swept with thunderous noises loud, 
 Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud, 
 Or like a demon in a shroud. 
 
B74 
 
 * WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 And rearing Lindis backward pressed, 
 Shook all her trembling banks amaine, 
 Then madly at the eygre’s breast 
 Flung uppe her weltering walls again; 
 Then bank came downe with ruin and rout, 
 Then beaten foam flew round about, 
 Then all the mighty floods were out. 
 
 So farre, so fast the eygre drave 
 The heart had hardly time to beat 
 Before a shallow seething wave 
 Sobbed in the grasses at our feet; 
 The feet had hardly time to flee 
 Before it brake against the knee, 
 And all the world was in the sea. 
 
 Upon the roofe we sat that night; 
 The noise of bells went sweeping by; 
 I marked the lofty beacon light 
 Stream from the church tower, red and high, 
 A lurid mark and dread to see; 
 And awesome bells they were to me 
 That in the dark rung “ Enderby!” 
 
 They rang the sailor lads to guide 
 From roofe to roofe, who fearless roved, 
 And I—my sonne was at my side— i. 
 And yet the ruddy billow glowed; 
 And yet he moaned beneath his breath, 
 “ Oh, come in life, or come in death, 
 
 Oh, lost! my love, Elizabeth! ” 
 
 And didst thou visit him no more? 
 Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter dear; 
 
 ad 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. ' 375 
 
 =. The waters laid thee at his doore 
 
 q Ere yet the early dawn was clears 
 ae Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace 
 
 _ The lifted sun shone on thy face, 
 Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place. 
 
 That flow strewed wrecks about the grass, 
 po _ That ebb swept out the flocks to sea; 
 A fatal ebbe and flow, alas! 
 
 To manye, more than myne and mee; 
 But each will mourn her own (she sayth), 
 And sweeter woman ne’er drew breath, 
 
 x Than my sonne’s wife, Elizabeth. 
 
 THE SLEEP. 
 [‘‘ He giveth His beloved sleep.”,-—Psalms cxxvii, 2.] 
 
 By ELIZAETH BARRETT BROWNING. 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett was born in London, in 1806, married to Robert 
 Browning, the poet, in 1846, and died at Florence, Italy, in 1851. Her 
 poems are characterized by a high intellectual attainment, and a great 
 interest in the political events of the day. She was deeply religious, 
 and of exquisite delicacy of imagination. ‘‘The-Sleep” is one of her 
 finest religious poems, and has been extensively published. She takes a 
 position, independent of sex, among the foremost writers of the century. 
 
 () F all the thoughts of God that are 
 Borne inward unto souls afar, 
 
 Along the psalmists’ music deep, _ 
 Now tell me if there any is 
 For gift or grace surpassing this ? 
 “He giveth His beloved sleep !” 
 
376 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 What would we give to our beloved ? 
 The hero’s heart to be unmoved, 
 The poet’s star-tuned harp to sweep, 
 The patriot’s voice to teach and rouse, 
 The monarch’s crown to light the brows; 
 “ He giveth His beloved sleep!” 
 
 What do we give to our beloved ? 
 A little faith all undisproved, 
 A little dust to overweep, 
 And bitter memories to make 
 The whole earth blasted for our sake ; 
 ,“‘ He giveth His beloved sleep! ” 
 
 “Sleep soft, beloved!” we sometimes say, 
 But have no tune to charm away 
 Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. 
 But never doleful dream again 
 Shall break the happy slumber, when 
 “He giveth His beloved sleep !” 
 
 O, earth! so full of dreary noises ; 
 O, men, with wailing in your voices ; 
 O, delv’ed gold, the wailers heap; 
 O, strife! O, curse that o’er it fall! 
 God makes a silence through it all, 
 And “giveth His beloved sleep.” 
 
 His dews drop mutely on the hill; 
 -His cloud above it saileth still, 
 Though on its slope men sow and reap. 
 More softly than the dew is shed, 
 Or cloud is floated overhead ; 
 “He giveth His beloved sleep ! ” 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. — 377 
 
 Yea! men may wonder while they scan 
 A living, thinking, feeling man, 
 Confirm’d in such a rest to keep. 
 But angels say—and through the Word 
 I think their happy smile is heard, 
 “‘ He giveth His beloved sleep !” 
 
 For me, my heart that erst did go 
 Most like a tired child at a show, 
 That tries through tears the juggler’s leap— 
 Would now its wearied vision close; 
 Would childlike on His love repose 
 Who “giveth His beloved sleep.” 
 
 And friends, dear friends-—when it shall be 
 That this low breath has gone from me, 
 And ’round my bier ye come to weep; 
 Let one most loving of you all, 
 Say, ‘ Not a tear must o’er her fall, 
 ‘He giveth His beloved sleep !’” 
 
 ONLY WAITING. 
 
 ie By Frances LAvuGHTON MAcE. 
 
 : Frances Laughton (Mace) is a name almost wholly unknown to fame, 
 - _ although one of the tenderest poems in the English language originated 
 ei - from her pen; one, too, that has had a world-wide circulation in the annals of 
 literature. This little poem, “‘ Only Waiting,” is constantly published and 
  eredited as anonymous. It was written by Miss Laughton when she was 
 but eighteen years old, and first saw the light in the Waterville (Me.) Mail 
 
378 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Some visitors at an almshouse noticed a very old man sitting in the door- 
 way. When they asked him what he was doing there, he answered, “‘ Only 
 waiting.” 
 
 Ji NLY waiting till the shadows 
 
 Are a little longer grown, 
 Only waiting till the glimmer 
 Of the day’s last beam is flown; 
 Till the night of earth is faded 
 From this heart once full of day, 
 Till the dawn of Heaven is breaking 
 Through the twilight, soft and gray. 
 
 “ Only waiting till the reapers 
 Have the last sheaf gathered home, 
 For the summer-time hath faded 
 And the autumn winds are come; 
 Quickly reapers! gather quickly 
 The last ripe hours of my heart, 
 For the bloom of life is withered 
 And I hasten to depart. 
 
 “ Only waiting till the angels 
 
 Open wide the mystic gate, 
 
 At whose feet I long have lingered, 
 Weary, poor and desolate. 
 
 Even now I hear their footsteps 
 And their voices far away— 
 
 If they call me, I am waiting, 
 Only waiting to obey. 
 
 “ Only waiting till the shadows 
 Are a little longer grown, 
 Only waiting till the glimmer 
 Of the day’s last beam is flown; 
 
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WOMEN AS PORTS. 379 
 
 When from out the folded darkness, 
 Holy, deathless stars shall rise, 
 By whose light my soul shall gladly 
 Wing her passage to the skies.” 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 By CHARLOTTE Bron. 
 
 Charlotte Bronté is best known to the world as the author of the popular 
 novel, Jane Eyre. She was born in 1816, and died in 1855. Her famous 
 story was published in 1847. She was one of three remarkable and gifted 
 ae : sisters, daughters of the Rev. Patrick Bronté, who lived at Haworth, in 
 ‘Yorkshire, England. The Rev. Robert Collyer was a neighbor of Char- 
 _ Jotte, and can remember her as a slim, pale’ girl, when he worked at the - 
 forge. She married a Mr. Nicholls, her father’s curate, and died after one 
 year of happiness. 
 
 | eas believe, is not a dream 
 So dark as sages say; 
 Oft a little morning’s rain 
 Foretells a pleasant day; 
 Sometimes there are clouds of gloom, 
 - But these are transient all; 
 If the shower will make the roses bloom, 
 Oh! why lament its fall ? 
 Rapidly, merrily, 
 Life’s sunny hours flit by; 
 Gratefully, cheerfully, 
 Enjoy them as they fly. 
 
 What though death at times steps in 
 And calls our last away ? 
 
380 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 What though sorrow seems to win 
 O’er hope a heavy sway ? 
 Yet hope again elastic springs 
 Unconquered though she fell. 
 Still buoyant are her golden wings, 
 Still strong to bear us well. 
 Manfully, fearlessly, 
 The day of trial bear, 
 For gloriously, victoriously, 
 Can courage quail despair. 
 
 PRAYER OF MARY STUART, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 
 
 This beautiful, accomplished and most unfortunate queen was beheaded 
 at Fothingay, February 8, 1587, at the command of her cousin, Queen 
 Elizabeth, who feared her power, and accused her of complicity in a plot 
 against her life. Mary died like a queen, inspiring her enemies with a fer- 
 vent admiration of her beauty and heroic powers of endurance. We give a 
 translation from the original Latin, in which the Queen wrote it in her book 
 9f devetions shortly before she was executed. 
 
 ee ( ) DOMINE Deus! speravi in te; 
 O care mi Jesu! nunc libera me 
 In dura catena, in misera peena, 
 Desidero te; 
 Languendo, gemendo, et genuflectendo, 
 Adoro, imploro, ut liberes me.” 
 
 [TRANSLATION. | 
 
 O, Master and Maker! my hope is in thee; 
 My Jesus, dear Saviour! now set my soul free 
 From this my hard prison, my spirit uprisen 
 Soars.upward to thee. 
 Thus moaning, and groaning, and bending the knee, 
 I adore and implore that thou liberate me. 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 381 
 
 (THE GRAY SWAN. 
 
 By ALice Cary. 
 
 The Carey sisters are as inseparable in literature as they were in their 
 lives. Alice was born in 1820, and died in 1871. Phoebe was born in 1824, 
 
 4 and died in 1871. They were born on a farm eight miles from Cincinnati, — 
 4 Ohio, and died in New York City, in the same year. They wrote verses 
 me” from childhood, and their poems are published together in one volume. 
 
 . They were the center of a refined literary circle in New York when they 
 died. Horace Greeley was a frequent and welcome visitor at their home. 
 
 ef () TELL me, sailor, tell me true, 
 Is my little lad, my Elihu, 
 | A-sailing with your ship?” 
 a ~The sailor’s eyes were dim with dew, 
 oh “ Your little lad, your Elihu ?” 
 2 He said with trembling lip,— 
 ¥ “ What little lad? what ship?” 
 
 MS _ What little lad! as if there could be 
 “a Another such a one as he! 
 
 What little lad, do you say? 
 Why, Elihu, that took to the sea 
 The moment I put him off my knee! 
 
 It was just the other day | 
 
 The Gray Swan sailed away.” 
 
 “The other day?” the sailor’s eyes 
 Stood open with a great surprise,— 
 “The other day? the Swan?” 
 His heart began in his throat to rise. 
 “* Ay, ay, sir, here in the cupboard lies 
 The jacket he had on.” 
 “ And so your lad is gone?” 
 
382 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO, 
 
 “ Gone with the Swan.” “And did she stand 
 With her anchor clutching hold of the sand, 
 For a month, and never stir?” 
 “Why, to be sure! Pve seen from the land, 
 Like a lover kissing his lady’s hand, 
 The wild sea kissing her,— 
 A sight to remember, sir.” 
 
 “ But, my good mother, do you know 
 All this was twenty years ago? 
 I stood on the Gray Swan’s deck, 
 And to that lad I saw you throw, 
 Taking it off, as it might be, so, 
 The kerchief from your neck.” 
 “ Ay, and he’ll bring it back!” 
 
 « And did the little lawless lad 
 That has made you sick and made you sad, 
 Sail with the Gray Swan’s crew?” 
 *‘ Lawless! the man is going mad! 
 The best boy ever mother had,— 
 Be sure he sailed with the crew! 
 What would you have him do?” 
 
 « And he has never written line, 
 Nor sent you word, nor made you sign 
 To say he was alive?” 
 “‘ Hold! if twas wrong, the wrong is mine; 
 Besides, he may be in the brine, 
 And could he write from the grave? 
 Tut, man, what would you have?” 
 
 “ Gone twenty years—a long, long cruise, .. 
 ’T'was wicked thus your love to abuse 
 But if the lad still live, 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 
 
 And come back home, think you you can 
 Forgive him?”—“ Miserable man, 
 You’re mad as the sea—you rave,— 
 What have I to forgive?” 
 
 The sailor twitched his shirt so blue, 
 And from within his bosom drew 
 The kerchief. She was wild. 
 My God! my Father! is it true 
 My little lad, my Elihu? 
 My blessed boy, my child! 
 . - My,dead,—my living child!” 
 
 HAPPY WOMEN. 
 
 By PHase CARY. - 
 
 MPATIENT women, as you wait 
 In cheerful homes to-night, to hear 
 The sound of steps that soon or late 
 Shall come as music to your ear; 
 
 Forget yourselves a little while, 
 _ And think in pity, of the pain 
 Of women who will never smile 
 To hear a coming step again. 
 
 With babes that in their cradles sleep, 
 Or cling to you in perfect trust, 
 Think of the mothers left to weep 
 Their babies lying in the dust. 
 
 And when the step you wait for comes, 
 And all your world is full of light; 
 
 O, women! safe in happy homes, 
 
 Pray for all lonesome souls to-night! 
 
 383, 
 
: é 
 384 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO, 
 
 “LIFE! I KNOW NOT WHAT THOU ART.” 
 
 By Mrs. ay BARBAULD. 
 
 Mrs. Letitia Aikin Barbauld was born in 1748, and died in 1825. She 
 was a native of Tibworth, Leicestershire, and the daughter of a gentleman 
 who was principal of an Academy for the education of boys. Mrs, Bar- 
 bauld was the favorite poetess of the English youth of half a century ago. 
 The little poem we publish here is an abbreviation of a longer poem, which 
 is a favorite in its present condensed form. 
 
 | ae I know not what thou art, 
 
 But know that thou and I must part; 
 And when, cr how, or where we met 
 I own to me’s a secret yet. 
 
 Life! we’ve been long together 
 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 
 ’Tis hard perhaps to part when friends are dear,— 
 Perhaps t’will cost a sigh, a tear; 
 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 
 Choose thine own time; 
 
 Say not Good Night,—but in some brighter clime 
 Bid me Good Morning. 
 
 ROBIN ADAIR. 
 By Lapy CAROLINE KEPPEL. 
 
 Lady Caroline Keppel, daughter of the second Earl of Albemarle, was 
 born in 1785. Robin Adair was the name of an Irish surgeon whom she 
 loved and married, and whose memory she has perpetuated in undying 
 verse. He survived his loving wife many years, remaining constant to her 
 image. This favorite song is set to a plaintive Irish air. 
 
 HAT?’S this dull town to me? 
 Robin’s not here; 
 
$ 
 WOMEN AS POETS. 
 
 He whom | wished to see, 
 
 Wished for to hear! 
 Where’s all the joy and mirth 
 Made life a heaven on earth? 
 Oh, they’re all fled with thee 
 | Robin Adair! 
 
 What made the assembly shine? 
 Robin Adair. 
 
 What made the ball so fine? 
 Robin was there! 
 
 + What when the play was o’er, 
 
 What made my heart so sore? 
 
 Oh, it was parting with 
 
 Robin Adair! 
 
 But now thou’rt far from me, 
 Robin Adair; 
 But now, I never see 
 Robin Adair; 
 Yet he I loved so well 
 Still in my heart shall dwell; 
 Oh, I can ne’er forget 
 Robin Adair! 
 
 Welcome on shore again, 
 Robin Adair; 
 
 Welcome once more again, 
 Robin Adair; 
 
 I feel thy trembling hand, 
 
 Tears in thy eyelids stand 
 
 To greet thy native land, 
 
 Robin Adair. 
 
 385 
 
386 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Long I ne’er saw thee, love, 
 Robin Adair; 
 
 Still I prayed for thee, love, 
 Robin Adair. 
 
 When thou wert far at sea 
 
 Many made love to me; 
 
 But still I thought on thee, 
 Robin Adair. 
 
 Come to my heart again, 
 Robin Adair; 
 
 Never to part again, 
 Robin Adair! 
 
 And if thou still art true 
 
 I will be constant, too, 
 
 And will wed none but you, 
 Robin Adair! 
 
 KNOCKIN G%, 
 *“ Behold! I stand at the door and knock.” 
 
 By HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 
 
 It seems almost superfluous to give a memoir of the author of ‘“ Uncle 
 Tom’s Cabin;” her name is a household word, and she belongs as imperish- 
 ably to the present century, and the American people, as the record of their 
 liberties. A sister of the famous divine, Henry Ward Beecher, she is a 
 year or two older than he, and singularly like him in disposition and pecu- 
 liarities of temperament, but very unlike in personal appearance. Born in 
 1812, at Litchfield, Connecticut, she was almost the eldest of that large 
 Beecher family, remarkable for their talents and idiosyncrasies of character. 
 In 1886 Miss Beecher was married to the Rev. Calvin E. Stowe, who is 
 still living at Hartford, Connecticut, where their pleasant home is located. 
 Mrs. Stowe gave to the world in 1852, the book that made her famous,— 
 
 * Suggested by Hunt’s picture ‘‘ Light of the World.” 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 387 
 
 “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,”—which had for many years a phenomenal sale, it 
 being difficult to supply the demand for it. Mrs. Stowe told her publishers 
 she hoped to make a new black silk out of the profits. Her first check was 
 for $10,000, and she and her husband were so bewildered by the receipt of 
 such a large sum that they had to be instructed how to take care of it. Mrs. 
 Stowe is still in good health, and is engaged on a new novel. 
 
 NOCKING, knocking, ever knocking! 
 Who is there? 
 Tis a pilgrim, strange and kingly, 
 Never such was seen before; 
 
 Ah, sweet soul; for such a wonder, 
 Undo the door! 
 
 No! that door is hard to open; 
 Hinges rusty, latch is broken; — 
 Bid Him go. | 
 Wherefore, with that knocking dreary, 
 Scare the sleep from one so weary? 
 Say Him, no. 
 
 Knocking, knocking, ever knocking! 
 What! still there? 
 
 Oh, sweet soul, but once behold Him, 
 
 With the glory-crowned hair; 
 
 And those eyes, so true and tender, 
 Waiting there! 
 
 ‘Open, open, once behold Himn— 
 Him so fair! 
 
 Ah, that door! why wilt thou vex me— 
 Coming ever to perplex me? 
 
 For the key is stiffly rusty; 
 
 And the bolt is clogged and dusty; 
 
388 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Many fingered ivy vine 
 
 Seals it fast with twist and twine; - 
 Weeds of years and years before, 
 Choke the passage of that door. 
 
 Knocking, knocking! What! still knocking? 
 He still there? 
 What’s the hour? The night is waning; 
 In my heart a drear complaining, 
 And a chilly, sad interest. 
 Ah, this knocking! it disturbs me— 
 Scares my sleep with dreams unblest. 
 Give me rest— 
 Rest—ah, rest! 
 
 Rest, dear soul, He longs to give thee; 
 Thou hast only dreamed of pleasure— 
 Dreamed of gifts and golden treasure; 
 Dreamed of jewels in thy keeping, 
 Waked to weariness of weeping; 
 
 Open to thy soul’s one Lover, 
 
 And thy night of dreams is over; 
 
 The true gifts He brings have seeming 
 More than all thy faded dreaming. 
 
 Did she open? Doth she—will she? 
 So, as wondering we behold, 
 Grows the picture to a sign, 
 Pressed upon your soul and mine; 
 For in every breast that liveth 
 
 Is that strange, mysterious door,— 
 The forsaken and betangled, 
 Ivy-gnarled and weed bejangled 
 
WOMEN AS POETS. 389 
 
 Dusty, rusty, and forgotten;— 
 
 There the pierced hand still knocketh, 
 And with ever patient watching, 
 With the sad eyes true and tender, 
 With the glory-crowned hair, 
 
 Still a God is waiting there. 
 
 THE EARLY BLUE-BIRD. 
 
 By Mrs. Lypra H. SIGOURNEY. 
 
 Mrs. Sigourney was a profuse and valuable writer for the young, when 
 the age dealt in fact rather than fiction, and religion was believed to bea 
 stronger power than morality. Many of her poems are devotional hymns 
 in their character, and no doubt they had a salutary influence in molding 
 the lives of the young of that period. Mrs. Sigourney was born in 1791. 
 and died in 1865. She was an American writer, her birth-place being No - 
 wich, Conn. Her style is similar to that of Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 in eae on yon leafless tree, 
 Dost thou carol thus to me? 
 
 “Spring is coming! spring is here! 
 Sayest thou so, my birdie dear? 
 What is that in misty shroud 
 Stealing from the darkened cloud? 
 
 ee en ae ee a ee ene ee wr eee eee 
 ae my es i 3 . > at 
 
 Lo! the snow-flakes, gathering mound 
 
 Settles o’er the whitened ground. 
 
 Yet thou singest, blithe and clear, 
 “Spring is coming! Spring is here!” 
 
 Strikest thou not too loud a strain? 
 Winds are piping o’er the plain; 
 Clouds are sweeping o’er the sky 
 With a black and threatening eye; 
 
390 
 
 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Urchins, by the frozen rill 
 Wrap their mantles closer still; 
 Yon poor man, with doublet old, 
 Doth he shiver at the cold? 
 Hath he not a nose of blue? 
 
 Tell me birdling, tell me true. 
 
 Spring’s a maid of mirth and glee, 
 Rosy wreaths and revelry; 
 
 Hast thou woo’d some winged love 
 To a nest in verdant grove? 
 
 Sung to her of greenwood bower, 
 Sunny skies that never lower? 
 Lured her with thy promise fair 
 Of a lot that knows no care? 
 Prythee hid in coat of blue, 
 Though a lover, tell her true. 
 
 Ask her if when storms are long, 
 
 She can sing a cheerful song? 
 
 When the rude winds rock the tree 
 If she’ll closer cling to thee? 
 
 Then the blasts that sweep the sky, 
 Unappalled shall pass thee by; 
 Through thy curtained chamber show 
 Sifting of untimely snow; | 
 Warm and glad thy heart shall be, 
 Love shall make it spring for thee. 
 
 RELEASED. 
 By Mrs. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 Mrs. Whitney was born in Boston, in 1824, and married to Seth D. Whit- 
 ney in 1848, She is best known asa writer of popular novels, her works 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 391 
 
 being singularly felicitous in character and sentiment for the young. 
 ** Pansies ” and ‘‘ Footsteps on the Seas,” her poetical effusions, were pub- 
 lished in 1857. Her poetry has the same charm that her prose has, that of 
 dealing gracefully and tenderly with homely subjects, and elevating the 
 commonest daily toil to ennobling heights. Mrs. Whitney is still engaged 
 in writing for the public. 
 
 little low-ceiled room. Four walls 
 Whose blank shut out all else of life, 
 And crowded close within their bound 
 A world of pain, and toil and strife. 
 
 Her world. Scarce furthermore she knew 
 Of God’s great globe that wondrously 
 Outrolls a glory of green earth, 
 And frames it with the restless sea. 
 
 Four closer walls of common pine; 
 And therein lying, cold and still, 
 The weary flesh that long hath borne 
 
 Its patient mystery of ill. 
 
 : Regardless now of work to do, 
 No queen more careless in her state, 
 Hands crossed in an unknown calm; 
 For other hands the work may wait. 
 
 Put by her implements of toil; 
 
 4 Put by each coarse, obtrusive sign; 
 
 ; She made a sabbath when she died, 
 
 B: And round her breathes a rest divine. 
 Put by, at last, beneath the lid, 
 
 The exempted hands, the tranquil face; 
 Uplift her in her dreamless sleep, 
 And bear her gently from the place. 
 
392 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Oft has she gazed, with wistful eyes, 
 Out from that threshold on the night; 
 
 The narrow bourn she crosseth now; 
 She standeth in the eternal light. 
 
 Oft she has pressed, with aching feet, 
 Those broken steps that reach the door; 
 
 Henceforth, with angels, she shall tread 
 
 _ Heaven’s golden stair, for evermore! 
 
 THE LAND OF THE LEAL. 
 By LApy CAROLINE NAIRNE, 
 
 This exquisitely simple and pathetic poem was written by Lady Caroline 
 Nairne, who was born in 1766, and died in 1845. Caroline Oliphant was a 
 native of Perth, Scotland, and married Major Nairne, who afterwards was 
 raised to the peerage, when she became Baroness Nairne. This poem, and 
 another, ‘‘ Would you be young again,” gave Lady Nairne a rank among 
 the best English poets, but they are often published anonymously, or cred- 
 ited to older Scottish poets. They can both be found in her poems and 
 memoirs, edited by Dr. Charles Rogers, and published in 1868. 
 
 if "M WEARIN’ awa’, Jean, 
 Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, Jean, 
 I’m wearin’ awa’ 
 To the land of the leal. 
 
 There’s nae sorrow there, Jean, 
 There’s neither cauld nor care, Jean, 
 The day is aye fair 
 
 In the land of the leal. 
 
 Our bonnie bairn’s there, Jean, 
 She was baith gude and fair, Jean, 
 And oh! we grudged her sair 
 
 To the land of the leal. 
 
 + foe 
 
WOMEN AS PORTS. 
 
 But sorrow’s sel’ wears past, Jean, 
 And joy’s a-comin’ fast, Jean, 
 The joy that’s aye to last 
 
 In the iand of the leal. 
 
 Sae dear that joy was bought, Jean, 
 Sae free the battle fought, Jean, 
 That sinful man e’er brought 
 
 To the land of the leal. 
 
 Oh! dry your glistening e’e, Jean, 
 My soul langs to be free, Jean, 
 An angel beckons me 
 
 To the land of the leal. 
 
 Oh! haud ye leal and true, Jean, 
 Your day it’s wearin’ thro’, Jean, 
 And I'll welcome you 
 
 To the land of the leal. 
 
 Now fare ye weel, my ain Jean, 
 This warld’s cares are vain, Jean, 
 We'll meet and we'll be fain, 
 
 In the land of the leal. 
 
 YAY) \\\\\\ 
 
 393 
 
CHAPTER XXXI1.8 
 
 The i Dother a [eqins. 
 
 Le ast ah. >: 
 Ba." aS HE mother should try, above every © 
 Sl; | thing, for respectful servants. She 
 () should demand that quality, even 
 ij before efficiency, as the one great 
 <p desideratum. She must not allow her- 
 iS self to be treated with disrespect. 
 The little creature sitting on her lap is to 
 be influenced for life by that hour in the 
 nursery when he sees her authority out- 
 raged. For, before the lips speak, the 
 
 ing in the situation, and the baby is sitting 
 in judgment on his mother. She must 
 be worthy of that judgment. 
 
 ‘gg  ~Above all things, let him never see her 
 lose her temper. Thenurse will then have an advantage 
 which will strike the impartial judge. A woman at the 
 head of the house should be as calm and as impertur- 
 bable and as immovable as Mount Blanc, to be the 
 model mistress. Of course, this is often difficult, 
 but it is not impossible. Again, when she has given an 
 order, she must see that it is obeyed, even if it costs her 
 a great deal of trouble. It is worth the trouble to be 
 
 brain is working, the bright eyes are tak- 
 
S FZ 
 = — FZ ‘ 
 = H 
 = IN 
 \) 
 SSS \ j 
 | 
 \ 
 
 SPEAK THE BRAIN IS WORKING AND THE BABY IS 
 
 SITTING IN JUDGMENT ON HIS MOTHER.” 
 
 “BEFORE THE LIPS 
 
THE MOTHER BEGINS. 395 
 
 disagreeably pertinacious on this point, and inflexible, 
 even to the degree of being tiresome, as it establishes a 
 precedent. A lady who was a pattern housekeeper made 
 a rule that her waitress should bring her a glass of water 
 at six o’clock every morning, and no woman who disre- 
 garded that rule was allowed to stay in her house. 
 
 - Every one thought this very unnecessary; but they 
 
 admired the punctuality with which the eight-o’clock 
 breakfast was served. ‘‘Do you not know,’’ said the 
 wise housekeeper, ‘‘ that my inflexible rule brings about 
 the certainty of her early rising?’ And as nothing con- 
 ‘duces so thoroughly to the health and welfare of children 
 as regularity, this was an admirable beginning for the 
 young mother. | 
 
 It is almost impossible, with some families, to have 
 young children at the table with their parents; they are 
 left almost necessarily to the care of nurses at meal-time. 
 The result is, of course, that they get bad manners at the 
 table. A mother should try to eat at least one meal a 
 day with her child, so as to begin at the beginning with 
 his table manners. 
 
 And those important things, accent and pronunciation! 
 What sins do not Americans commit in their slovenly 
 misuse of their own tongue? Educated men, scientific 
 men, often so mispronounce their words, or speak with 
 so palpable a Yankee twang, that they are unfitted to 
 become public speakers. It would bea good thing for 
 every American household, could they employ one Eng- 
 lish girl, with the good pronunciation which is the com- — 
 mon inheritance of all the well-trained servants in those 
 parts of rural England where the ladies take an interest 
 
396 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 in the peasantry. A mother should be very careful to 
 
 talk much to her children; to watch their earliest accent — 
 
 as they begin to go to school; and to try and impress a 
 good pronunciation upon them in their first lisping talk. 
 
 It is very much the fashion now even for people of 
 wealth to have a polyglot family of servants—a German 
 nurse anda French governess, an English maid anda 
 Spanish waiter—thinking that their children will pick up 
 a dozen languages with their playthings. But, although 
 they do learn a smattering, children rarely learn a lan- 
 
 guage well in this way; and it is quite certain that they 
 
 will never know their own language as correctly as if 
 they learned that first, and perfectly. To learn to spell 
 in English correctly, English must be taught before the 
 other languages come in to confuse the mind. 
 
 A mother should try to be at home when her children 
 return from the school. She must of course be out some- 
 times; but that hour she should try to be in, to receive 
 the little fatigued, miserable child, who has endured the 
 slavery of desks and books, classes, bad air, and enforced 
 tasks which we call ‘‘ school.”’ 
 
 If we called it racks, thumb-screws, the boot, the pul- 
 leys, and the torture, as they did similar institutions 
 in the Middle Ages, we should be more true to the facts. 
 The modern teacher extorts confessions of how much is 
 eight times eight, or what are the boundaries of Pennsyl- 
 vania, or some other country, in the midst of heat, bad 
 air, and general oppression and suffering such as few 
 chambers of torture ever equaled. The boy comes home 
 with burning brow, perhaps with a headache; tired, 
 angry, and depressed, to know that all is to be repeated 
 
THE MOTHER BEGINS. 397 
 
 on the morrow If his mother is at home he rushes to 
 her room. Let her have patience and sympathy, for it is 
 his crucial hour. Let her bathe his head and hands; 
 give him a good lunch, at which she presides herself; 
 hear all his grievances, and smooth them over; and then 
 send him out to play for an hour or two in the open air. 
 When he must study in the evening, both father and 
 mother should tackle the arithmetic and the geography 
 with the boy, and, if possible, smooth the thorny road 
 which leads else to despair. 
 
 The animals know how to take care of their young bet- 
 ter than we do. The human race has no inspiration on 
 the subject. A young fox is educated for his sphere in 
 life much more easily than isa human boy. We have 
 not conquered the secrets of doing the best for our chil- 
 dren, or else we certainly should have learned how to 
 make education more agreeable. Perhaps the Kinder- 
 garten is the first move in the right direction, for we find 
 children very happy there. Certainly a boys’ school or 
 a girls’ school, with bad air and enforced tasks, is not a 
 happy place. Dickens had a realizing sense of the mis- 
 eries of school, and has painted for us the tragedy of 
 Paul Dombey in colors which will never fade. 
 
 Now, in the education of children with a view toward 
 the amenities, does it seem probable that a child who is 
 struck and whipped, will become as gentle and. amiable 
 as one who is always treated with a firm and consistent 
 and equable kindness? The ‘‘ sparing the rod and spoil- 
 ing the child’’ question is one which has not been 
 answered. 
 
 The violent-tempered and easily irritated child is often 
 
398 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 apparently much relieved by what is called, in familiar 
 parlance, a ‘‘good whipping.’ It seems to carry off a 
 certain ‘‘ malaise’? which he is glad to get rid of. 
 Whether a ride on donkey-back, a row on the river, or a 
 hearty run would not do it as well, there are no possible 
 means of deciding. But to cuff a child’s ears, to shake ~ 
 him, to whip him often, is to arouse all that is worse in 
 his nature. The human body is sacred, and a parent 
 should hesitate to outrage that natural dignity which is 
 born in every sensible child. 
 
 If the amenities of home are to begin early, we should 
 recommend a great prudence as to the administration of 
 corporal punishment; but, that it should be entirely ban- 
 ished, no one can say. There are all sorts of children 
 born into this world. No one can decide as to what sort 
 of treatment would have made Jesse James a better boy, 
 as he seems to have been born a fiend. No one can, on 
 the other hand, recommend the conduct of the clergyman 
 who whipped his child to death because the little fright- 
 ened creature would not say his prayers. The kind and 
 good mother will be apt to find the mean between the 
 two. 
 
 The other point of which we are reminded by the 
 account of the French Familistere is the influence of 
 music. 
 
 Every mother learns that, from the cradle-song up to 
 the dancing tune which she plays on the piano, her great 
 help in the work of education, and in her attempt at the 
 amenities, is music. Nothing is so perfect as the work 
 and aim of this divine messenger in the otherwise insolu- 
 ble problem of the nursery. A song often putsa sick 
 
B 
 ; 
 § 
 
 THE MOTHER BEGINS. 399 
 
 baby to sleep. Itis sure, if it is a simple ballad, and if 
 it tells a story, to interest the boys and girls. What 
 mother who can sing has not felt her deep indebtedness 
 to the ‘‘ Heir of Linn,’’ ‘‘ Young Lochinvar,’’ ‘‘The 
 Campbells are Coming,’’ ‘‘ Lizzie Lindsay,’”’? ‘‘ What’s @ 
 the steer, Kimmer?’ ‘‘ Auld Robin Grey,’’ and even to 
 the homely ‘‘ Old Grimes is Dead,” and the familiar nur- 
 sery rhymes of Mother Goose set to the simplest of tunes? 
 
 A famous statesman and orator said, in one of his best 
 speeches, that he could never think of ‘‘ Kathleen 
 ©’ Moore”’ as his mother sang it, without the tears com- 
 ing to his eyes, and he often wondered what power of 
 oratory she possessed that he had not inherited, what 
 nerve she contrived to reach which: none of his polished 
 periods could conquer. He should have remembered 
 that the ‘‘ hearer’s mood is the speaker’s opportunity,”’ 
 and he should thank her that she aroused in him the 
 early softer emotion which the battle of life has not quite 
 rubbed out. 
 
 Children like to march. The rhythmic instinct is 
 inborn; they like to dance, to move in phalanxes. The 
 French have caught this element of concord, and have 
 utilized it. Itis introduced here into our public schools, 
 and to any one who has seen the the Normal College, 
 where a regiment as large as the Seventh—a regiment of 
 girls—marches in to music, the story need not be told of 
 the influence of music upon order. At home, the evening 
 dance by the firelight, the mother playing for her chil- 
 dren, is always a picture of happiness and glee. 
 
 Boys, as well as girls, should be taught to play upon 
 some musical instrument. It has the most admirable 
 
400 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 effect upon the amenities of home. No more soothing 
 or more refining influence can be introduced than the 
 home concert. To vary the usual custom and to give 
 variety, let a girl learn the violin and a boy the piano. 
 It is very interesting to see the usual position occasion- 
 ally reversed, and there is nothing ungraceful or unfemi- 
 nine in the use of the violin. Very few natures are so 
 coarse or so fierce that they can not be reached by music. 
 
 ‘‘T had,”’ said a woman who was famed for her lovely 
 manners, ‘‘the good fortune to have a musical papa. He 
 used to wake me in the morning by playing Mozart’s 
 ‘Batti, Batti’ on the flute, and he always, although a 
 busy lawyer, gave us an hour in the evening with his 
 violin. I am sure Strauss, with his famous Vienna 
 Orchestra, and his world-renowned waltzes, has never 
 put such a thrill into my nerves, or such quicksilver into 
 - my heels as did my father’s playing of the Virginia Reel 
 and the first movement of Von Weber's ‘Invitation 4 la 
 Valse,’ nor have I ever heard such solemn notes as those 
 which came from his violoncello, as he accompanied my 
 mother in the Funeral March in the ‘ Seventh Symphony.’ 
 Their music made home a more attractive spot than any 
 theatre or ball. They were neither of them great 
 musicians. I dare say their playing would have been 
 considered very amateurish in these days of musical excel- 
 lence. But it served the purpose of making home a very 
 peaceful spot to their boys and girls, and of keeping it a 
 memory of delight through much that was trying in the 
 way of small income, personal self-sacrifice, and ill- 
 health. We had our trials, but everything vanished 
 when father began to play.”’ 
 
 it 2a 
 
THE MOTHER BEGINS. 401 
 
 We can not, in our scheme of life, always command a 
 musical papa, but this testimony is invaluable. Children 
 should always be taught to sing, unless hopelessly defect- 
 ive in musical organization—a fact which can only be 
 ascertained by trial. The great use of the Kindergarten 
 is perhaps in this unconscious development of a voice, 
 and the power of keeping time and tune. Many a child, 
 whose musical gift would have remained unknown, sud- 
 denly develops a beautiful voice in the chorus of the 
 school. 
 
 _ Here the mother should be the first teacher, and the 
 world is now happily full of books to help her. The 
 ‘Songs of Harrow,”’ edited by the head-master, contain 
 beautiful simple part-songs for boys, and there are hun- 
 dreds of such compilations for girls. To the Countess of* 
 Dufferin we owe the introduction of the singing quad- 
 rilles, where, to the Mother Goose poems of ‘‘ Mary, Mary, 
 
 - quite contrary,’ and ‘‘ Ride a Cock-horse to Banbury 
 
 Cross,’’ have been married to certain very good old English 
 tunes, which the dancers sing in different parts as they 
 dance, making a charming effect. The Christmas Carols, 
 the English Madrigals, Song of the Waits, Old English 
 glees and ballads, are simple, delightful, pure, and ele- 
 vating. The mother need not be afraid of these aids to 
 the home amenities. They may not do all that she may 
 wish tomake her children cultivated musicians, but they 
 will do much. Theopportunities for musical culture are 
 very great in our cities now, and we should not forget 
 that, in giving our children a musical education, we are 
 giving them a defense against ennui, a new and undying 
 means of amusing themselves, but also a means of mak- 
 
 26 
 
402 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ing their own future homes happy, that we aid them in 
 an accomplishment which will be always useful, often 
 also remunerative, and with which they can help to swell 
 the praises of our Lord, and to cheer the bedside of the 
 sick and dying. 
 
 It is not, of course, universal that the manners of 
 musicians are perfect, but it has never been urged against 
 music that it injured the manners. Certainly, in a house- 
 
 hold, music when once learned, can help to increase the 
 
 cheerfulness of home. 
 
—SC@HAPTER XXXII.8 
 
 elie afe % Oympathy. 
 
 N order to make home happy to a 
 child, he should never be laughed 
 at. The chaotic view of life which 
 presents itself to a child, we can all 
 remember; how we only half under- 
 
 J PPTL EO: 
 aK 
 
 Dar rss <Zy stood things or how we misappre- 
 We hended them altogether; how form- 
 ES s alists wearied us, and gave us texts which we 
 x ~~ could not remember; and how the hasty and 
 
 mk the heartless trampled down the virgin buds 
 C8 of good resolve and of heroic endeavor. Our 
 Ys early heartbreaks are never quite forgotten, 
 @ nor can we recall them without tears. They 
 are, of course, a part of the forging of the 
 . armor. We have to be hammered into shape 
 by all sorts of hard blows before we are good for any- 
 thing. The only thing we can ask is that the strokes be 
 so well given that we are not bent awry; that the charac- 
 ter does not receive some fatal twist from which it never 
 
 recovers. 
 ‘‘ He comes, and lays my heart all heated 
 On the hard anvil, minded so 
 Into his own fair shape to beat it 
 With his great hammer, blow on blow; 
 
404 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 And yet I whisper, ‘As God will!’ 
 And at his heaviest blows lie still. 
 “ He takes my softened heart and beats it, 
 
 The sparks fly off at every blow; 
 
 He turns it o’er and o’er and heats it, 
 And lets it cool and makes it glow; 
 
 And yet I whisper, ‘As God will!’ 
 
 And in his mighty hand lie still.” 
 
 We are all on God’s anvil, to be thus molded, but, in 
 a lesser degree, our children are in our hands to be shaped 
 into the image of their Maker. Shall we, in addition to 
 all the sorrows which must come to them later, afflict 
 them in their sensitive childhood with our scorn, our rid- 
 icule, or our lack of comprehension? 
 
 A Sunday-school teacher after long effort thought that 
 she had impressed the text ‘‘A: soft answer turneth 
 away wrath ’’ upon a child’s mind, and heard her repeat 
 with much unction these words: ‘‘ A soft anchor turns to 
 grass, but green words stir the ankles.”’ Again she gave 
 out something about the ‘‘pomps and vanities of this 
 world,’’ which the memory of her scholar brought back 
 as the ‘‘ pumps and manacles.’? It was not in human 
 nature not to smile at this rendering of our English 
 Bible, and the child burst into tears, and left the school, 
 never to come back again. Who can follow the bewild- 
 ered mazes of that intellect as it sought and failed to 
 catch the unfamiliar words of the text? 
 
 One lady of remarkable intelligence assures us that 
 until she was eighteen she always, in her nightly suppli- 
 cations, said ‘‘Forgive us this day our daily bread,”’ 
 under some childish hallucination that our daily bread was 
 supposed to have sinned, or that we were to be forgiven 
 
DELICATE SYMPATHY. 405 
 
 for being always hungry. It would not have been a more 
 absurd bit of theology than many which have held the 
 world in chains for many years. 
 
 A child will not, for some inscrutable reason, tell the 
 secrets of its soul. It will not let us know when we hurt 
 it, and how. We must be careful, through sympathy 
 and through memory, to find that art. 
 
 One of the most powerful sketches of a child’s suffer- 
 ings is to be found in George Eliot’s Maggie Tulliver, in 
 the ‘‘ Mill on the Floss.’’ Many a grown man or woman 
 on reading that, has said, ‘“‘It isa picture of my early 
 sufferings. Poor Maggie!”’ 
 
 A sullen temper gives to a mother an almost incurable 
 obstacle in the way of good manners, and yet a sullen 
 temper is very often an affectionate temper soured. 
 
 It pains a mother often after her children have grown 
 up to hear them say that their childhood was an unhappy 
 one; that they were never understood; that she laughed 
 when she should have been serious, and was serious when 
 she should have laughed; that they had terrors by night 
 which she never drove away; and that their mortifica- 
 tions by day were increased by her determination that 
 they should wear broad collars instead of narrow ones, 
 such as the other boys wore, and so on. She can only 
 say, ‘‘I did my best, I did my best for you,’’ and regret 
 that she had not been inspired. | 
 
 But while the children are young, as indeed after they 
 are grown, a parent should try to sympathize with the 
 various irregular growth’s of a child’s nature. Sensitive- 
 ness as to peculiarities of dress is a very strong element, 
 and it can not be laughed down. The late admirable 
 
406 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Lydia Maria Child said that she believed her character — 
 had been permanently injured by the laughter of her 
 schoolmates at a peculiar short-waisted gown which her 
 mother made her wear to school. And a very sensible 
 mother, who would not allow her little daughter to wear 
 a hoop to dancing-school when hoops were the fashion, — 
 said that she was certain that, by the mortification she 
 had caused her, and the undue attention which had been 
 given to the subject, she had made love of dress a pas- 
 sion with the child. On all these questions, a certain 
 wholesome inattention is perhaps the best treatment. 
 Try to allow your child to be as much like his fellows 
 as you can; and, above all things, do not make him too 
 splendid, for that hurts his feelings more than anything, 
 and makes the other boys laugh at him. 
 
 The ragged jacket, the poor shoes, the forlorn cap, the 
 deciduous pantaloon which has shed the leaves of fresh- 
 ness—these are not laughed at; they do not move the 
 youthful soul to ridicule. It is a lovely trait in the 
 character of boyhood tbat poverty is no disgrace. But 
 a velvet jacket, a peculiar collar, hair cut in a singular 
 fashion, long hair especially—these are cruel guide-posts 
 to the young bully. He makes the picturesque wearer 
 whose prettiness delights his mother, suffer for this pecul- 
 lar grace most fearfully. 
 
 Little girls, more precocious than boys, suffer, however, 
 less from the pangs of ridicule; yet they have their sor- 
 rows. An intelligent and poetical girl is laughed at for 
 her rhapsodies, her fine language, or her totally innocent 
 exaggerations. She gets the name of fib-teller when she 
 is perhaps but painting a bluer sky or describing a 
 
 ‘ 
 
DELICATE SYMPATHY. 407 
 
 brighter sun than her fellow-beings can see. Buta little 
 girl has generally a great deal of vanity to help her 
 along, and much tact to tell her where to go, so that her 
 sufferings are less severe than those of aboy. She gravi- 
 tates naturally toward the amenities, and, if she is not a 
 well-bred person, it is largely the fault of her surround- 
 ings. 
 
@CHAPTER XXXIILe 
 
 he . Cheerful ‘ (ember. 
 
 ( ing and cheerfulness, is gayety of 
 | heart, innocent and pure; it is the 
 wy Sunshine of the mind, the day-dawn 
 ; of all the faculties. Some of us are 
 = born with this gift, but some of us are 
 born grave and sombre; some of us grow 
 sad, and lose our brightest lance, a laugh, 
 as we go on in life. But, whatever our 
 own mood, we are grateful to that inmate 
 of home who is known as the “cheerful 
 member.’? We all appreciate gayety in 
 l; others. There is no poem like ‘‘L’ Allegro.”’ 
 on In the first place, gayety implies cour- 
 
 As age. There is enough to weep over in the 
 world. We should be forgiven for going about with our 
 heads in a muffler if we only wept over our own mistakes. 
 We could weep over the grave of our once noble motives, 
 our own disillusions, and our lost belief in human nature; 
 we might even weep over our lost appetite for dinner, 
 
 ‘ EY aI gf 9) : 
 A 4 Kaylt ° 
 = hd » 
 — = py 
 Gee EEE TS ETNA Yo 
 
 di v er SS 
 : A ¢ ) 
 : ‘ i 
 
 ® y Z 
 
 ZN 
 G 
 
 satiety, and a changed condition of the palate, which no © 
 
 longer responds to mince-pie. | 
 But we do not weep when a figure all clad in rose-color, 
 408 : 
 
eae eS ee 
 vet ue . 
 
 THE CHEERFUL MEMBER. 409 
 
 with floating veil flying back upon the wind, comes dan- 
 sing toward us, and calls us to go through green mead- 
 ows, by laughing streams to where the rainbow touches 
 the ground. Why should we weep when we can laugh? 
 Let us exalt this symbol of our immortality, and laugh 
 like the gods. Gayety is contagious; it is almost the 
 only good thing which is. One gay person makes a 
 party brilliant; it fills a theatre; every one goes to see a 
 funny piece. It wins the day on the field of battle. The 
 courageous fellow who can laugh and joke amid grape 
 and shot and canister, will live to fight another day. 
 
 Hood, as we know, conquered life with gayety, but he 
 also had genius and indomitable will. But the lesson he 
 teaches us is none the less valuable. How Shakespeare 
 loved a woman whose soul was full of gayety! When he 
 began to sketch Rosalind and Portia, or even the coars- 
 er Merry Wives of Windsor, he did not like to leave 
 them. Gayety may be as pure as a rose-bud, ‘‘ frisking 
 light in frolic measure.’’ She is as natural as the lambs 
 and as musical as the birds. 
 
 We owe the French people much for their gifts of gay- 
 ety to us of aslower race. Weare, perhaps, a little too 
 Gothic, too solemn, too much in earnest, to get out of 
 life all that it has of ornament, and gayety and cheer. We 
 should indulge in a gayer social architecture, Corinthian 
 capital and flying buttress, some ‘‘ chateau en Been iu 
 —homes of gay and joyous guests. 
 
 The cheerful son of the house! how dear he is, with his 
 bonny smile, his comic songs, his quips and quirks! How 
 he bids black care depart, and brings a smile to the lips 
 of the sad, overburdened father, the despondent mother, 
 
410 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 who has perhaps laid one of her lambs away in the 
 churchyard! How much the family lean on the buoyant 
 spirit! He never believes in the worst; he is no pessimist. 
 He believes in the best, thinks the sick will get well, the 
 bad reform, the traveler will arrive safe at his journey’s 
 end. He never foments a quarrel or touches on the fam- 
 ily weak spot. He has tact (all gay people are apt to 
 have it), and he avoids saying disagreeable things. His 
 fine temper makes him a sincere but adroit flatterer. He 
 finds everybody looking well, everybody in first-rate con- 
 dition. Rain does not wet him nor fire scorch. He is 
 the ‘‘ cheerful member.’”’ Even ill-health can not quell 
 that delightful laugh. He knits up ‘‘ the raveled sleeve 
 of care;’’ he is better than sleep; he is better than a din- 
 ner of twelve courses. His temperament is gracious, and 
 of the sweetest and sunniest; he is the brightest of all the 
 influences of home. 
 
 Growing out of gayety in good women comes another 
 grace, cordiality of manner. Who can separate the two? 
 Cordiality must come with a smile. Sometimes she is a 
 little grave, then we call her ‘‘ cheerfulness;”’ but, in her 
 best estate, cordiality and gayety are sworn friends. The ~ 
 cheerful, gay woman who can keep her family laughing, 
 who can laugh herself, has half conquered life by that 
 power. There is something to laugh at in the gloomiest 
 lot. We can steal sunbeams out of cucumbers, if we 
 choose. 
 
 One reason why gayety and cordiality are such virtues, 
 is that they are unegotistical. A person goes out of him- 
 self when he is gay; he retires within himself when he is 
 sullen, and when he is angry. Justice, verity, temper- 
 
THE CHEERFUL MEMBER. 411 
 
 ance, stableness, perseverance and patience are somewhat 
 egotistical virtues. They may not conduce to cheerful- 
 ness. The “‘professedly pious’”’ are not all cheerful, 
 although they should be. Sometimes wounded vanity 
 masquerades as repentance. 
 
 The cheerful member isa great physician. He cures 
 many a fancied disease; he lights up the darkest day; 
 with his song and laugh there is always company in the 
 house; he goes through life as a guest—for everybody 
 entertains him. 
 
 ‘Such a man creams off nature, leaving the sour and 
 the dregs for philosophy and reason to lap up.” 
 
 The cheerful person is master of all his talents, powers, 
 and faculties; his imagination is clear, his judgment 
 undisturbed, his temper is even and unruffled. He there- 
 fore is most useful in the world of action. He hasa ben- 
 eficent influence upon all with whom he converses, 
 bringing out their best gifts, and his attitude toward his 
 Maker is the best and highest, because it is that of con- 
 stant and habitual gratitude. 
 
 Of course, we can not but acknowledge that these for- 
 tunate gay people are born, and not made; we must 
 admire and copy them if we can. We can not all be like 
 them. 
 
 Arthur Help says: ‘‘Be cheerful, no matter what 
 reverse obstructs your pathway or what plague follows 
 you in your trail to annoy you. Do not allow despair to 
 unnerve your energies!’ This is good advice, but he 
 might as well tell us to be beautiful. We will be cheer- 
 ful of course, if we can! 
 
 We have learned from observation of others, and from 
 
412 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 experience ourselves, that wealth and external prosper- 
 ity have nothing to do with either gayety or cheerful- 
 ness. Wealth is a great blessing; rightly used, it is an 
 immense convenience. Where we have it not, it seems 
 to be the very thing we have most needed and wanted. 
 
 But we do not see the rich any more cheerful than the 
 poor. The very poor are exceedingly cheerful. The 
 happy man of the comedy had no shirt. 
 
 We are not, ourselves, if Heaven send us wealth, apt 
 to be more cheerful. We become afraid, covetous, 
 grasping, nervous, careful. We have something to lose 
 —which is always a bad position to be in. 
 
 It is not the rich young man who is the happiest. 
 Many dog-carts, T-carts, coaches and four, club windows, 
 good dinners, perpetual feasting, hunting-fields, and race- 
 courses, do not make a man happy. Would that they 
 did! For, then, some fortunate parent would buy happi- 
 ness for his son; and we have never heard of any million- 
 aire who could do that. 
 
 The happy fellow is he who goes whistling and singing 
 to his work; he never meets Ennui—has never been 
 introduced to him. 
 
 The old simile of the grindstones, which, if no grist is 
 put in between, will grind themselves, applies to the rich 
 man who has nothing to do. A man can buy fine houses, 
 followers, and flatterers, with money, good clothes also, 
 and choice wines, but he cannot buy cheerfulness. That 
 must be inherited or earned. 
 
 We look into the homes of the poor for cheerfulness. 
 The greatest man of antiquity was the poorest. Whata 
 warm sympathy, what glee, what happiness are there in 
 
THE CHEERFUL MEMBER. 413 
 
 the humble home, when talent, taste, and genius dwell 
 _ with poverty! Thatiron band which holds them together 
 so stanchly and so nearly—which excludes indulgence 
 and sensuality—has caught one guest not asked; it is 
 Gayety, and there is always room for him. Poverty has | 
 directed their activity into safe and right channels, and 
 made them strong and cheerful. 
 
 ‘The affectionate delight with which they greet the 
 return of each one after the early separations which 
 school or business requires, the foresight with which 
 during such absences they hive the honey which oppor- 
 tunity offers for the ear and the imagination of the 
 others, and the unrestrained glee with which they dis- 
 burden themselves of their early mental treasures when 
 the holidays bring them together’’—all this is to be 
 seen in the homes of the men to whom Heaven has 
 answered the prayer, ‘“‘Give me neither poverty nor 
 riches.’’ 
 
 The house of the rich man is spacious, often lonely. 
 The house of the poor man is crowded and inconvenient, 
 _ but it is cheerful. 
 
 ‘“The household gods of the poor man are of flesh and 
 blood, with no alloy of silver or gold or precious stones. 
 He has no property but in the affections of his own heart, 
 and, when they endear bare floors and walls, despite of 
 toil and scanty meals, that man has his love of home from 
 God, and his rude hut becomes a cheerful place.”’ 
 
—sCHAPTER XXXIV.& 
 
 Rducafién sands Mannerss of Qur « Girls, 
 
 E come now to the subject which 
 perhaps has little connection with 
 the nature of this work, but 
 * much to do with the welfare of 
 the state. We must consider the 
 two extremes which are now being 
 brought about by the emancipation of 
 young women. One is, their higher education, 
 > the other is, the growing ‘‘fastness”’ of manner. 
 One can scarcely imagine amenity of manner 
 without education, and yet we are forced to 
 observe that it can exist, as we see the manners 
 of highly educated and what are called strong- 
 minded women. Soft, gentle, and feminine 
 manners do not always accompany culture and 
 education. Indeed, pre-occupation in literary matters 
 used to be supposed to unfit a woman for being a grace- 
 ful member of society, but nows avons changé tout cela; 
 and we are now in the very midst of a well-dressed and 
 well-mannered set of women who work at their pen as 
 Penelope at her web. 7 
 
 The home influence is, however, still needed for those 
 414 
 
 KK 
 
 Feet as =a 
 
 SS 
 
EDUCATION AND MANNERS OF OUR GIRLS. 415 
 
 young daughters who begin early to live in books; and 
 neatness in dress and order should be insisted upon by 
 the mother of a bookish, studious girl. All students are 
 disposed to be slovenly, excepting an unusual class, who, 
 like the Count de Buffin, write in lace ruffles and diamond ‘ 
 rings. Books are apt to soil the hands, and libraries, 
 although they look clean, are prone to accumulate dust. 
 Ink is a very permeating material, and creeps up under 
 the middle finger-nail. To appear with such evidences 
 of guilt upon one would make the prettiest woman 
 unlovely. 
 
 The amenities of manner are not quite enough consid- 
 ered at some of our female colleges. With the college 
 course the young graduates are apt to copy masculine 
 manners, and we have heard of a class who cheered from 
 a boat their fellow-students at West Point. This is not 
 graceful, and to some minds would more than balance 
 the advantages of the severe course of study marked out 
 and pursued at college. A mother with gentle and lady- 
 
 like manners would, however, soon counteract these mas- 
 
 culine tendencies and overflow of youthful spirits. We 
 all detest a man who copies the feminine style of dress, 
 intonation and gesture. Why should a girl be any more 
 attractive who wears an ulster, a Derby hat, and who 
 strides, puts her hands in her pockets, and imitates her 
 brother’s style in walk and gesture? 7 
 However, to a girl who is absorbed in books, who is 
 reading, studying, and thinking, we can forgive much if 
 she only will come out a really cultivated woman. We 
 know that she will be a power in the state, an addition 
 to the better forces of our government; that she will be 
 
416. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 not only happy herself, but the cause of happiness in 
 others. The cultivated woman is a much more useful 
 factor in civilization than the vain, silly, and flippant 
 
 woman, although the latter may be prettier. But it isa 
 
 great pity that, having gone so far, she should not go 
 ' further, and come out a cultivated flower, instead of a 
 learned weed. 3 
 
 Far more reprehensible and destructive of all ameni- 
 ties, is the growing tendency to ‘‘ fastness,’’ an exotic 
 which we have imported from somewhere; probably from 
 the days of the Empire in Paris. 
 
 It seems hardly possible that the ‘‘fast’’ woman of the 
 present, whose fashion has been achieved by her ques- 
 tionable talk, her excessive dress, her doubtful manners, 
 can have grown out of the same soil that produced Pris- 
 cilla Mullins. The old Puritan Fathers would have 
 turned the helm of the Mayflower the other way if they 
 could have seen the product of one hundred years of 
 
 independence. Now all Europe rings with the stories of 
 - American women, young, beautiful, charmingly dressed, 
 who live away from their husbands, flirt with princes, 
 make themselves the common talk of all the nations, and 
 are delighted with their own notoriety. To educate 
 daughters to such a fate seems to recall the story of the 
 Harpies. Surely no mother can coolly contemplate it. 
 And the amenities of home should be so strict and so 
 guarded that this fate would be impossible. 
 
 In the first place, young girls should not be allowed to 
 walk in the crowded streets of a city alone; a companion, 
 a friend, a maid, should always be sent with them. Lady 
 Thornton said, after one year’s experience of Washing- 
 
EDUCATION AND MANNERS OF OUR GIRLS. 417 
 
 ton, ‘‘I must bring on a very strict English governess to 
 walk about with my girls.’’ And in the various games 
 so much in fashion now, such as skating and lawn-tennis, 
 there is no doubt as much necessity for a chaperon as in 
 attending balls and parties. Not alone that impropriety 
 is to be checked, but that manners may be cultivated. 
 A well-bred woman who is shocked at slang, and who 
 presents in her own person a constant picture of good 
 manners, is like the atmosphere, a presence which is 
 felt, and who unconsciously educates the young persons 
 about her. 
 
 ‘¢Thave never gotten over Aunt Lydia’s smile,”’ said a 
 soldier on the plains, who, amid the terrible life of camp 
 and the perils of Indian warfare, had never lost the 
 amenities of civilized life. ‘*‘ When a boy I used to look 
 up at the table, through along line of boisterous children 
 clamoring for food, and see my Aunt Lydia’s face. It 
 never lost its serenity, and when things were going very 
 wrong she had but to look at us and smile, to bring out 
 all right. She seemed to say with that silent smile, ‘Be 
 patient, be strong, be gentle, and all will come right.’ ”’ 
 
 The maiden aunt was a perpetual benediction in that 
 house, because of her manner; it was of course, the out- 
 crop of a fine, well-regulated, sweet character; but sup- 
 posing she had had the character with a disagreeable 
 manner? The result would have been lost. 
 
 We have all visited in families where the large flock of 
 children came forward to meet us with outstretched hand 
 and ready smile. We have seen them at table, peaceful 
 and quiet, waiting their turn. We have also visited in 
 other houses where we have found them discourteous, 
 
418 | WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 sullen, ill-mannered and noisy. Weknow that the latter 
 have all the talent, the good natural gifts, the originality, 
 and the honor of the former. We know that the parents 
 have just as much desire in the latter case to bring up 
 their children well, but where have they failed? They 
 have wanted firmness and an attention to the amenities. 
 
SAN 
 SAA 
 
 THE MODEL GIRL. 
 
—8CHAPTER XXXV.2- 
 
 The * [¥)odel * Girl. 
 
 S . 
 iS 
 b 
 
 AB> 
 
 AM so glad I have no daughters, 
 said a leader of society; ‘‘for what 
 should I do with them? I should 
 not wish to have them peculiar 
 girls, dressed differently from their 
 mates, or marked as either bookish 
 girls, or prudish girls, or non-dan- 
 . cing girls, or anything queer; and yet I could 
 Ss never permit them to go outon a coach, be 
 out to the small hours of the night with no 
 ~@ chaperon but a woman no older than them- 
 > selves. I could not allow them to dance with 
 notorious drunkards, men of evil life, gam- 
 blers, and betting men; I could not let them 
 dress as many girls do whom I know and like; 
 so I am sure it is fortunate for me that I have no daugh- 
 ters. I could not see them treat my friends as so many 
 of my friends’ daughters treat me—as if I were the scum 
 of the universe. I am glad I have no daughters; fora 
 modern daughter would kill me.”’ 
 Perhaps this lady but elaborated the troublesome prob- 
 lem which has tried the intellects of all observant women 
 —how to make the proper medium girl; not the ‘‘ fast ’’ 
 
 exa fs 
 Te st 
 
 =>. > 
 
 ed 
 
 ary = 
 Vo » 
 ee 2 
 
420 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 girl; still again, not the ‘‘slow’”’ dowdy girl; not the 
 exceptional girl, but the girl who shall be at once good 
 and successful—that is the question ¢ 
 
 The amenities of home, the culture of the fireside, the 
 - mingled duty and pleasure which come with a life which 
 has already its duties before its pleasures—this would 
 seem to make the model girl. The care and interest in 
 the younger sisters and brothers; a comprehension and a 
 sympathy with her mother’s trials; a devotion to her 
 - hard-worked father; a desire to spare him one burden 
 more, to learn the music he loves, to play to him of an 
 evening; to be not only the admired belle of the ball- - 
 room, but also the dearest treasure of home; to help 
 along the boys with their lessons, to enter into those trials 
 of which they will not speak; to take the fractious baby 
 from the patient or impatient nurse’s arms, and to toss it 
 in her own strong young hands and smile upon it with 
 her own pearly teeth and red lips; to take what comes to 
 her of gayety and society as an outside thing, not as the 
 whole of life; to be not heart-broken if one invitation fail, 
 or if one dress is unbecoming; to be cheerful and watch- 
 ful; to be fashionable enough, but neither fast nor furi- 
 ous; to be cultivated and not ablue-stocking; to be artis- 
 tic, but not eccentric or slovenly; to be a lovely woman 
 whom men love, and yet neither coquette nor flirt—such 
 would seem to be the model girl. 
 
 And it is home and its amenities which must make her. 
 rzhool cannot do it; society cannot and will not do it; 
 books will not do it, although they will help. : 
 
 And here we have much to say on the books which 
 should surround a girl. We must seek, and watch, and 
 
THE MODEL GIRL. } 421 
 
 try to find the best books for our girls. But we can no 
 more prevent a bad French novel from falling into their 
 hands than we can prevent the ivy which may poison 
 them, from springing up in the hedge. The best advice 
 we can give, is to let a girl read as she pleases in a well- 
 selected library; often reading with her, recommending 
 certain books, and forming her taste as much as possible; 
 _ then leaving her to herself, to pick out the books she 
 likes. Nothing will be so sure to give a girl a desire to 
 read a book as to forbid it, and we are now so fortunate 
 in the crowd of really good novels and most unexceptional 
 magazines which lie on our tables that we are almost 
 sure that her choice will be a good one; for she can find 
 so much more good than bad. 
 
 It is unwise to forbid girls to read novels. They are 
 to-day the best reading. Fiction, too, is natural to the 
 youthful mind. It is absurd to suppose that Heaven 
 gave us our imagination and rosy dreams for nothing. 
 They are the drapery of fact, and are intended to soften 
 for us the dreary outlines of duty. No girl was ever 
 injured, if she were worth saving, by a little novel-reading. 
 Indeed, the most ethical writers of the day have learned 
 that, if a fact is worth knowing, it had better be conveyed 
 in the agreeable form of a fiction. What girl would ever 
 learn so much of Florentine history in any other way as 
 she learns by reading ‘‘ Romola?’ What better picture 
 of the picturesque past than ‘‘The Last Days of Pom- 
 peli?’ Walter Scott’s novels are the veriest mine of 
 English and Scotch history; and we might go on indefi- 
 nitely. 
 
 As for studies for girls, it is always best to teach them 
 
422 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Latin, as a solid foundation forthe modern languages, if 
 for nothing else; as much arithmetic as they can stand; 
 _ and then go on to the higher education and the culture 
 which their mature minds demand, if they desire it and 
 are equal to it. | 
 
 But no mother should either compel or allow Hes 
 daughter to study to the detriment of her health. The 
 moment a girl’s body begins to‘suffer, then her mind 
 must be left free from intellectual labor. With some 
 women, brain-work is impossible. It produces all sorts 
 of diseases, and makes them at once a nervous wreck. 
 With other women intellectual labor is a necessity. It is 
 like exercise of the limbs. It makes them grow strong 
 and rosy. No woman who can study and write, and at 
 the same time eat and sleep, preserve her complexion and 
 her temper, need be afraid of intellectual labor. But a 
 mother must watch her young student closely, else in the 
 ardor of emulation amid the excitements of school she 
 may break down, and her health leave her in an hour. It 
 is the inexperienced girl who ruins her health by intel- 
 lectual labor. 
 
 To many a woman intellectual labor is, however, a 
 necessity. It carries off nervousness; it is a delightful 
 retreat from disappointment; it is a perfect armor against 
 ennut. What the convent life is to the devotee, what the 
 fashionable arena is to the belle, what the inner science 
 of politics is to the European women of ambition, literary 
 work is to certain intellectual women. So a mother need 
 not fear to encourage her daughter in it, if she sees 
 the strong SBS taste, and finds that her health will 
 bear it. 
 
THE MODEL GIRL. 423 
 
 But we fear that certain fashionable schools have 
 ruined the health of many a girl, particularly those where 
 the rooms are situated at the top of afour-story building, 
 as they generally are. A poor, panting, weary girl 
 mounts these cruel steps to begin the incomprehensibly 
 difficult service of a modern school. ‘‘Why do you 
 never go out at recess?’ said a teacher to one of her 
 pupils. ‘‘ Because it ‘hurts my heart so much to come 
 up the stairs,’’ said the poor girl. ‘‘Oh! but you should 
 take exercise,’’ said the teacher; ‘‘look at Louisa’s color!’ 
 
 ‘That teacher knew as much of pathology as she did of 
 
 - Hottentot; and the pupil thus advised lies to-day a 
 hopeless invalid on her bed. . 
 
 Z UK 
 ¢ 
 Bip 
 ‘ H ly VIN 4 Hy 
 PLY 
 
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 ity | > yi ] | Wy SSS 
 
 — 
 
=CHAPTER XXXVLe 
 
 The : Manners : of - Qur . JBeoys. 
 
 <) 
 y 
 
 WP « 
 = 
 1) 
 
 UT, if the amenities of home are thus — 
 
 hopefully to direct our daughters in 
 
 £ the right way, what will they do for 
 our sons ? 
 
 Of one thing we may be certain, 
 there is no royal road by which we 
 can make ‘‘good young men.’ The 
 
 | - age is a dissolute one. The story of 
 “<. temptation and indulgence is not new or fin- 
 c ished. The worst of it is that women feed and 
 .2 tempt the indulgence of the age. Women per- 
 mit a lack of respect. Even young men who 
 have been well brought up by their mothers, 
 become careless when associating with girls 
 who assume the manners and customs of 
 young men. And when it is added that some 
 , women in good society hold lax ideas, talk in 
 double entendre, and encourage instead of repressing 
 license, how can young men but be demoralized? 
 
 If women show disapproval of coarse ideas and offen- 
 sive habits, men drop those ideas and habits. A woman 
 is treated by men exactly as she elects to be treated. 
 There is a growing social blot in our society. Itis the 
 
THE MANNERS OF OUR BOYS. 495 
 
 complacency with which women bear contemptuous 
 treatment from men. It is the low order at which they 
 rate themselves, the rowdiness of their own conduct, the 
 forgiveness on the part of women of all masculine sins of 
 omission, that injures men’s manners irretrievably. 
 
 - Fast men and women, untrained boys and girls, people 
 without culture, are doing much to injure American 
 society. They are injuring the immense social force of 
 | good manners. Women should remember this part of 
 their duty. Men will not be chivalrous or deferential 
 unless women wish them to be. 
 
 The amenities of home are everything to a boy. With- 
 out them very few men can grow to be gentlemen. A 
 man’s religion is learned at his mother’s knee; and often 
 that powerful recollection is all that he cares for ona 
 subject which it is daily becoming more and more of a 
 fashion for men to ignore. His politeness and deference 
 are certainly learned there, ifanywhere. A mother must 
 remember that all hints which she gives her son, as to a 
 graceful and gentlemanly bearing, are so many powerful 
 aids to his advancement in the world. <A clergyman who 
 did not approve of dancing still sent his son to dancing- 
 school, because, as he said, he wished ‘‘him to learn to 
 enter a drawing-room without stumbling over the piano.” 
 
 The education of the body is a very important thing. 
 The joints of some poor boys are either too loosely or too 
 tightly hung, and they find it. difficult to either enter or 
 leave a room gracefully. ‘‘ Don’t you know how hard 
 it is for some people to get out of a room after their visit 
 is really over? One would think they had been built in 
 your parlor or study, and were waiting to be launched,’’ 
 
496 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 says Dr. Holmes. This is so true that one almost may 
 suggest that.it be a part of education to teach a boy how 
 to go away. The ‘business of salutation’’ and leave- 
 taking is really an important part of education. 
 
 One great argument for a military exercise is that it 
 teaches the stooping to stand up, the lagging to walk, the 
 awkward to be graceful, the shambling to step accu- 
 rately. Lord Macauley in his old age wished that he had 
 had a military training, as he ‘‘never had known which 
 foot to start with.”’ | 
 
 There are some persons born into the world graceful, 
 whose bodies always obey the brain. ~ There are far more 
 who have no such physical command. To those who 
 have it not, it must be taught. The amenities of home 
 should begin with the morning salutation, a graceful bow 
 from the boy to his mother, as he comes in to breakfast. 
 
 And table manners, what a large part they play in the 
 amenities of home! A mother should teach her boy to 
 avoid both greediness and indecision at table. He should 
 be taught to choose what he wants at once, and to eat 
 quietly, without unnecessary mumbling noise. Unless 
 she teaches him such care early, he will hiss at his soup 
 through life. She must teach him to hold his fork in his 
 right hand, and to eat with it, and to use his napkin prop- 
 erly. If Dr. Johnson had been taught these accomplish- 
 ments early, it would have been more agreeable for Mrs. 
 Thrale.. Teach your boy the grace of calmness. Let the 
 etiquette of the well-governed, well-ordered table be so 
 familiar to him that he will not be flustered if he upsets 
 a wine-glass, or utterly discomposed if a sneeze or a chok- 
 
THE MANNERS OF OUR BOYS. 427 
 
 ing fit require his sudden retreat behind his napkin, 
 when, after he leaves you, he essays to dine abroad. 
 
 Life in America is in a great hurry, and the breakfast 
 before school or business can not be in most families the 
 scene of much instruction. We are accused by foreign- 
 ers of bolting our food, and we are supposed to be dys- 
 peptic in consequence. It is no doubt true that we do 
 eat too fast and too much. Seneca tells us that ‘‘our 
 appetite is dismissed with small payment, if we only 
 give it what we owe it,’’ and not what an ungoverned 
 appetite craves. It is a debt which we should pay 
 slowly, and by installments. But, if breakfast is hur- 
 ried, dinner can be quiet and well ordered, be it ornate or 
 simple. ) 
 
 Nothing is better for the practice of the amenities of 
 home than a rigorous determination to dress for dinner. 
 This does not mean that we should be expensively or 
 showily dressed, but that every member of the family 
 should appear clean and brushed, and with some change 
 of garment. A few minutes in the dressing-room is not 
 too much of a task to even the busiest man, and he comes 
 down much refreshed fo his meal. 
 
 A lady hardly needs any urging on this point; but, if 
 any one does need urging, it is certainly worth men- 
 tioning. 
 
 Several years ago a growing family of boys and girls 
 were taken by their parents, who had experienced a 
 reverse of fortune, to the neighborhood of the oil-wells to 
 live. It was about the time they were growing up, and 
 their mother was in despair as she thought. of the lost 
 opportunities of her children. Nothing about them but 
 
428 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ignorance. No prospect, no schools, no anything. But 
 in the depth of her love she found inspiration. 
 
 Out of the wreck of her fortunes she had saved enough 
 to furnish parlor and dining room prettily, and to buy a 
 few handsome lamps. Books were therein plenty, for old 
 books sell for very little; so she had been able to save 
 that important factor of civilization. 
 
 Every evening her lamps were lighted and her dinner 
 spread as if for a feast; and every member of the family 
 was made to come in as neatly dressed as if it were a 
 party. The father and mother dressed carefully, and the 
 evening was enlivened by music and reading. 
 
 She attended to their education herself, although not 
 fitted for it by her own training. She did as well as she 
 could. She taught them to bow and to courtesy, to 
 dance, to draw, to paint, to play and sing; that is, she 
 started them in all these accomplishments. In five years, 
 when better fortunes brought them to the city again, they 
 were as well-bred as their city cousins, and all her friends 
 applauded her spirit. This was done, too, with only 
 the assistance of one servant, and sometimes with not 
 even that. 
 
 It required enormous courage, persistence, and belief 
 in the amenities of home. How many women, under such 
 doleful circumstances, would have sunk into slovenli- 
 ness and despair, and would have allowed their flock to 
 run wild, like the neighboring turkeys! 
 
 There is great hope for country children who are sur- 
 rounded by a certain prosperity and agreeable surround- 
 ings. They see more of their parents than city children 
 can; and perhaps the ideal home is always in the coun- 
 
THE MANNERS OF OUR BOYS. 429 
 
 try. Those small but cultivated New England villages, 
 those inland cities, those rural neighborhoods, where 
 nature helps the mother, where the natural companion- 
 ship of animals is possible for the boys, and the pony 
 comes to the door for the girls; where water is near for 
 boating and fishing, and in winter for the dear delights 
 of skating—such is the beautiful home around which the 
 memory will for ever cling. Theideal man can be reared 
 there, one would think—that ideal man whoin Richter 
 delighted to depict, one whose loving heart is the begin- 
 ning of knowledge. 
 
 We could paint the proper place for the ideal man to 
 be born in, if, alas! for all our theories, he did not occa- 
 sionally spring out of the slums, ascend from the lowest 
 deeps, and confute all our theories by being nature’s best 
 gem, without ancestry, without home, without help, 
 without culture. 
 
 The education of boys in cities is beset with difficulties; 
 for the fashionable education may lead to self-sufficiency 
 and conceit, with a disdain of the solid virtues; or it may 
 lead to effeminacy and foppishness—the worst faults of 
 an American. These two last faults are, however, not 
 fashionable or common faults in our day. There is a 
 sense of superiority engendered in the ‘‘smart young 
 man,’’ so called, which is very offensive. All snobs are 
 detestable; the American snob is preéminently detestable. 
 
 A young man of fashion in New York is apt to get him 
 a habitual sneer, which is not becoming, and to assume 
 an air of patronage, which is foolish. He has a love for 
 discussing evil things, which has a very poor effect on 
 his mind; he has no true ideas of courtesy or good-breed- 
 
430° .* WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ing; he is thoroughly selfish, and grows more and more 
 debased in his pleasures, as self-indulgence becomes the 
 law of his life. 
 
 His outward varnish of manner is so thin that it does 
 not disguise his inner worthlessness. It is like that var- 
 nish which discloses the true grain of the wood. Some 
 people of showy manners are thoroughly ill-bred at heart. 
 None of these men have the tradition of fine manners, 
 that old-world breeding of which we have spoken. They 
 would be then able to cover up their poverty; but. they 
 have not quite enough for that; and they truly believe— 
 these misguided youths—that a rich father, a fashionable 
 mother, an air of ineffable conceit, will carry them 
 through the world. It is astonishingly true that it goes 
 a great way, but not the whole way. 
 
 No youth, bred in a thoroughly virtuous and respecta- 
 ble family, grows up to be very much of a snob, let us 
 hope. Alas! he may become a drunkard, a gambler, a 
 failure. And then we come up standing against that great 
 cruel stone wall, that unanswered question, ‘‘ Why have 
 I wrought and prayed to no purpose?’ And who. shall 
 answer us? . 
 
 It is the one who sins least who is found out, and who 
 gets the most punishment. 
 
 There is a pathetic goodness about some great sinners 
 which they never lose. We love the poor fallen one 
 whom we try to save. Never are the amenities of home 
 more precious, more sacred, more touching, than when 
 they try to help the faltering, stumbling footstep; to hide 
 the disgrace, to shelter the guilty, to ignore, if possible, 
 the failing which easily besets the prodigal son; to wel- 
 
 =e 
 ( eae 
 
ae 
 
 THE MANNERS OF OUR BOYS. 431 
 
 come him back when society has discarded him; to be 
 patient with his pettishness, and to cover his faults with 
 the mantle of forgiveness; all these are too tragic, too 
 noble, too sacred for us to dilate upon. They are the 
 amenities of heaven. 
 
 Society makes no explanations and asks none, else we 
 might ask why some men and women are tolerated, and 
 why others are cast out? Why some young man who 
 had once forgotten himself after dinner is held up to 
 scorn, and why another is forgiven even through the 
 worst scandal? Why is injustice ever done? 
 
 Many a young man, having experienced injustice at 
 the hands of society, goes off and deliberately commits 
 moral suicide. The conduct of society is profoundly 
 illogical, and we cannot reform it. 
 
(HAPTER XXXYII@ 
 
 Als Profession * for * Qur Pr Joys. 
 
 fei, HANCELLOR Kent said, in his wise 
 Wall) way, that the citizen who did not give 
 his son a profession or a trade, was 
 _ wronging the state. Every one must 
 have something to do. Theidle man 
 is a dangerous man. It is a pity that 
 every boy cannot learn a profession and a trade. 
 In the troublous times which we have just 
 * gone through, we have seen how much better 
 it was to be a shoemaker than to bea lawyer. 
 The professional men nearly starved. 
 
 Madame de Genlis said that she knew sey- 
 enty trades, by any one of which she could have 
 earned a living. She taught the sons of Philip 
 Egalité to make shoes, pocket-books, brooms, 
 brushes, hats, coats, and all sorts of cabinet-work. She 
 taught them literature, science, and music; had them 
 instructed in watch-making and clock-making, and even 
 in the arts of killing and cutting up a sheep. They 
 found many of these resources valuable in exile; and it 
 is strange that it has not occurred to those who have 
 boys who are not princes, to do the same. <A boy could 
 learn to be a carpenter while preparing for college, and 
 
/ 
 
 A PROFESSION FOR OUR BOYS. 433 
 
 could study his Latin, Greek, and mathematics with a 
 better brain for the exercise. 
 
 It is to be regretted that gentlemen’s sons deem certain 
 trades beneath their notice. For all labor is honorable, 
 and all cannot succeed as lawyers, doctors, clergymen, 
 or merchants. There is great need of the handicraft so 
 honorably considered in the middle ages. Every gift 
 bestowed upon us by Providence, whether of mind or 
 body, is a talent to be grateful for. Arthur can write 
 verses; Jack can cut down a tree; Sam can reason; 
 Edmund can do a sum; Peter can measure and saw 
 boards; Henry can tame animalsand make all nature his 
 tributary; James likes to sit and work at some thought- 
 ful, sedentary task; Horatio is speculative, active, cour- 
 ageous—he aims at Wall street. Alas! they ald aim at 
 Wall street, that fairy street lined with gold. They go 
 there, most of them, to find only Peter Goldthwaite’s 
 ‘‘ treasure,’’ if, indeed, they do not find something worse. 
 
 In the forming of character, the father and mother 
 should try to make headway against this national mis- 
 take, that to rush headlong into money-making is the 
 end of life. A boy should be taught to respect the day 
 of small things; to work honestly for every dollar he 
 gets; and to let that dollar represent something given 
 back for the worth of it. It would be avery good thing 
 for all young men if there were a law that they should 
 enter no profession or business, until they had proved. 
 that they could earn their living by their hands. 
 
 Casimir Périer said, when accused of being an aristo- 
 erat: ‘‘My only aristocracy is the superiority which 
 industry, frugality, perseverance, and intelligence will 
 
434 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 insure to every man in a free state of society; and I 
 belong to those privileged classes of society to which you 
 may all belong in your turn. Our wealth isourown; we 
 
 have gained it by the sweat of our brows or by the labor © 
 
 of our minds. Our position in society is not conferred 
 upon us, but purchased by ourselves with our own intel- 
 lect, application, zeal and knowledge, patience and indus- 
 try. If you remain inferior to us, it is because you have 
 not the talent, the industry, the zeal or the sobriety, the 
 patience or the application, necessary to your advance- 
 ment. You wish to become rich as some do to become 
 wise, but there’is no royal road to wealth any more than 
 there is to knowledge.”’ 
 
 These are sentences which should be engraved on the 
 walls of every college and schoolhouse. Young men 
 should learn to look to patient labor as their lot in life. 
 The feverish and sudden success of a few, wrecks a 
 thousand yearly. : 
 
 ‘‘There is Charley, who has made his pile in Wall 
 street in six months. Why should I work all my life 
 for what he gains in half a year?’ asks visionary and lazy 
 Fred, not counting the thousand failures in Wall street, 
 including failures to be honest.- 
 
 There is, however, a growing taste for agriculture in 
 our country which is most hopeful. The earth owes us 
 all a living, and if we will ‘‘tickle her with a hoe she 
 will laugh with a harvest.’’ 
 
 There is now living in the State of New York a young 
 farmer who went from the ranks of a fashionable career 
 right into the fields. Inheriting a farm which was worth 
 nothing unless he worked it himself, he determined to 
 
 a 
 a 
 . 
 
A PROFESSION FOR OUR BOYS. 435 
 
 study scientific farming at an agricultural college in Eng- 
 Jand; and came home armed with useful knowledge and 
 with practical ideas. He had learned to be a very good 
 blacksmith, carpenter, saddler, and butcher —for a 
 farmer should know how to mend his farm-wagon, stitch 
 his harness, shoe his horse, and kill his calves—according 
 to the economical English fashion. 
 
 And he had great good luck, this young farmer, in 
 that he found a wife who, like himself, had been reared 
 in ‘Sour best society,’ but who was willing to leave all 
 for his sake, and to learn to pickle and preserve, to bake 
 and brew, to attend to the dairy, and to get up at five 
 o’clock in the morning to give her working husband his 
 breakfast, and he learned that, 
 
 ‘ He who by the plow would thrive, 
 Must either hold himself or drive.” 
 So this jolly farmer is always at it, and drives his team 
 afield himself at daybreak. 
 
 The old farmers wonder as they see this handsome 
 young fellow, beautifully dressed, on Sunday, driving 
 his pretty wife to church, that he can make more money 
 than they can. His butter is better, and brings more a 
 pound; his wheat is more carefully harvested; his bree1 
 of pigs is celebrated; his chickens are wonderful—for the 
 books tell him the best to buy. He has learning and 
 science to hitch to his cart, and they ‘‘ homeward from 
 the field’ bring him twice the crop that ignorance and 
 prejudice draw. 
 
 Above all, he is leading a happy, healthy, and inde- 
 pendent life. ‘To be sure, his hands are hard and some- 
 what less white than they were. But polo and cricket 
 
436 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 would have ruined his hands. His figure is erect, and his 
 face is ruddy. He has not lost his talent in the elegant 
 drawing room, but can still dance the German to admira- 
 tion. He is doing a great work and setting a good 
 example; for he is, as we Americans say, ‘‘ making it 
 pay.’? To be sure, he has a great taste for a farmer’s 
 life. No one should go into it who has not. But what 
 a certainty it is! Seed-time and harvest never fail. 
 Wall street sometimes does, 
 
 It would seem, while there is so much to be done in 
 America with her railroads, oil-wells, mines, farms, and 
 wheat-fields, her numerous industries and requirements, 
 _ that no man need be poor. Our sons can find something 
 to do, something to turn a hand to. 
 
 The teaching of home should be in this particular age 
 of the world to inculcate ‘‘ plain living and high think- 
 
 ing’? in our sons. That is what they need to be great 
 
 and good men, and useful citizens. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIIILS+ 
 
 The - Good. Wife. 
 
 U5, 
 
 fs AS 
 
 IFE, is said to be the most agreea- 
 ble and delightful name in nature. 
 A woman indeed ventures much 
 
 ~ when she assumes it, for it is to 
 
 Ie her the final throw for happiness 
 ’~ or unhappiness. Be she ever so good, 
 
 so gifted, so true, so noble, she may 
 
 marry a man who will disgrace her and make 
 her unhappy; she has no security whatever 
 against the most cruel fate. 
 
 And home must be her battle-ground. The 
 man has the world before him, where to 
 choose; therefore, an unhappy marriage is but 
 one bitter drop in his full cup. With the wife, 
 it is the whole draught. Let her weigh well the 
 dangers of the future; even with prudence she may not 
 escape misfortune. 
 
 It is well if she can always think her husband wise, 
 whether he is or not. Sheis a happy woman who can 
 make her husband always a hero. She is happiest who 
 is humblest, and who takes a pleasure in looking up. 
 Not that we would ignore or despise the moral beauty of 
 great courage in women or a proper belief in themselves. 
 
 ine NE Ze 
 me aoa 
 \\ 4 
 & 
 
 Vp 
 a 
 
 eer. at 
 
 Yr ¥y, . 
 
438 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 The rare heights which women have reached through 
 their struggles, and by means of their self-dependence 
 and courage, are to be regarded with awe and admiration. 
 
 The trouble is, that women have not quite the courage 
 of their opinions. They have a certain degree of courage, 
 and then they halt. This often puts a woman in a peril- 
 ous attitude of indecision. A woman may wish to keep 
 her manners at the true level of social restriction, and 
 yet she may have longings for a higher sphere. 
 
 This very ambition to be better, wiser, more free to 
 act out her own character, may in the attitude of wife 
 make her uneasy and uncomfortable. There are great 
 
 characters who are cheerful in a lonely adherence to the - 
 
 right. There are others which must have the sympathy 
 and love and admiration of those near them, or they 
 are miserable. ; | 
 
 They can not help this uneasiness, this belief that they 
 were born for other duties than the chronicling of small 
 beer, and yet they do not like to move out of the beaten 
 track, knowing very well that the people who govern the 
 world, and who are respected, are those who move in the 
 conventional track, shocking nobody—souls which find 
 their highest aspirations satisfied with the making of 
 afghans and the embroidery of tidies. 
 
 Women, however, are obliged, like men, to live out 
 their own natures, and to use their talents as men are. 
 Talent and spirit will not slumber or sleep. Irrespective 
 of ridicule and regardless of happiness, a great woman 
 must manifest her intellectual or moral supremacy. 
 Happy for the gifted woman, if there be a vital refine- 
 
 ne ee ee ae ae 
 
THE GOOD WIFE. 3 439 
 
 ment in her mind which keeps her from making her gifts 
 but illustrations of her weaknesses. 
 
 A good wife, if it ever occurs to her that her husband 
 is her inferior, conceals the fact religiously; many a 
 witty wife has put good stories into her husband’s lips— 
 a forgivable deceit. Women have the talent of ready 
 utterance to much greater perfection than men; they are 
 quicker-witted; they have more ready tact. A wife’s 
 mind has traveled over the whole journey, and started 
 home again, often before the husband has gone ten miles; 
 but she has (or should have) the sense to keep silent 
 until he has caught up with her. 
 
 No women are so detestable as those who make ‘‘ game”’ 
 of their husbands in public, who show them up to the 
 world, and exhibit their defects. If a husband speaks 
 bad grammar, his wife should ignore the fact, and bid 
 _ him discourse as if he were a nightingale. She honors 
 herself by concealing his defects. She degrades herself 
 if she lowers him. There are disinterestedness and self- 
 devotion in a woman’s character, sometimes, of which a 
 man seems incapable. She should show it all as a wife. 
 
 However badly wives behave in prosperity, the authors 
 and philosophers do give them credit for behaving well 
 in adversity. They show then that in the vainest and 
 most frivolous heart ‘‘ there is a spark of heavenly fire 
 which beams and blazes in the dark hours of adversity.’’ 
 
 “Women are in their natures far more gay and joyous 
 than men, whether it be that their blood is more refined, 
 their fibers more delicate, and their animal spirits more 
 light and volatile, or whether, as some have imagined, 
 
440 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 there may not be a kind of sex in the very soul. As 
 vivacity is the gift of women, so is gravity that of man.”’ 
 
 Women are very fond of admiration. They love flat- 
 tery and fine clothes, and grow frivolous, almost from 
 the very necessity of the case. The worst faults of 
 women are fed by the admiration of men, for the very 
 youngest girl is not long in seeing that her prettiest © 
 and most frivolous companion is assured of the highest 
 social success. 
 
 As a wife, she must sometimes observe that her hus- 
 band is attracted by the very faults which he most dep- 
 recates in her, and that, if his homage can be won from 
 her, it is by the exhibition of qualities which her own 
 self-respect would prevent her from exhibiting. 
 
 So, from first to last, a good wife has need of all her 
 virtue, all her strength, and all her good sense. She 
 must put a thousand disappointments and little injuries 
 and small injustices in her pocket. She may be very 
 much assured, if she keeps up an imperturbable | 
 good temper, serenity, and composure, that Monsieur 7 
 will be won back at last, and admire her more than he — 
 has done Madam Fugatif. 
 
 The good wife accepts her husband’s dictum as tothe 
 scale of splendor on which she shall arrange her house. j 
 She learns from him how much she shall spend; she | 
 helps him to economize; she even sometimes restricts his 
 too ardent fancy in the way of opera-boxes and pictures. 
 
 A wife of frugal mind is a great help to a man, if she be 
 not mean. <A miserly woman is a contradiction in terms, 
 
 wie ‘ 
 for women should be ‘‘ loving and giving.” 
 
 As a good wife, a woman brings up her children to 
 
' THE GOOD WIFE. 441 
 
 respect their father, to obey him, to accept his advice 
 rather than her own; to be the vice-regent in the house 
 is her chosen position. Never does she secretly, as some 
 bad wives do, plot against his known wishes. Religion, 
 politics, business, social position, oxpenditure, — she 
 allows him to decide all these things, if he wishes to do 
 so. Itis a man’s prerogative. 
 
 She reserves the right to think for herself; to, in a 
 measure, lead her own life, choose her own books, her 
 own amusements, and her own friends; and her home is 
 a much happier one if she brings into it some element 
 of variety, for, as we have said, each member of the 
 home should be an individual. | 
 
 Society is in the hands of the women almost exclu- 
 sively in this country. Most men like to see their wives 
 shine in society; it gratifies their pride. Good company, 
 lively conversation, brightening up the wits, makes a 
 wife twice as agreeable a companion. Society, too, is 
 the true sphere of many women; they are lost out of it. 
 Without carrying it too far, women are much better for 
 a social taste. They get moodyelse. In social life diffi- 
 culties are met and conquered, restraints of temper 
 become necessary, and striving to behave rightly in these 
 emergencies will help to fit a woman to behave rightly at 
 home. She is useful to others, and is improving herself. 
 If she is always at home, she is apt to become morbid 
 and introspective. 
 
 _ She should be at home when her husband wants her. 
 He is the first society which she should seek, nor should - 
 she ever accept with patience any indignity tohim. He 
 may not be as great an ornament to society as she is, no 
 
4492 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 matter; he must go with her, and to him she always 
 shows a most respectful observance. And she must not 
 break her heart if, after treating her like a goddess, he 
 comes down and treats her like a woman. It is not in 
 the nature of man to keep up on the highest stilts of 
 admiration and love all the time. She must accept his 
 more commonplace liking. 
 
 And let her preserve a disposition to be pleased, 
 not slighting the humble blessing of an every-day 
 good fellowship. 
 
 A good wife remembers her husband’s dignity, and is 
 more than ever careful not to compromise it. She is more 
 
 careful than when she was a girl, because then laughter, 
 
 playfulness, and coquetry were allowable; now, for every 
 fault of hers, husband and children must suffer. She can 
 not be too considerate of them. 
 
 A man of wit and sense, who looks upon his wife with 
 pleasure, confidence, and admiration, will have few com- 
 ments to make on the amount of pleasure she may take 
 in the company of other men. A jealous husband is a 
 tyrant, whom no propriety of conduct can appease. The 
 races of the Othellos, the Borgias, and the Cencis are not 
 extinct. A woman cannot supply all the failings of the 
 man who loves her and whom she loves, but it is her duty 
 to try to do so. 
 
 A good wife who is married to a great man—the 
 ‘* people’s idol,’’ a favorite clergyman, a noted orator, or 
 an Adonis—has a hard part to act. The world owns her 
 idol, and she has to accept the quota which the world 
 leaves. She has to see him adored by other women; to 
 know that, officially, he must accept the confidences of 
 
 x} . 
 eee. eee 
 
THE GOOD WIFE. gad eS 
 
 other women which do not come to her; she sees the 
 world seeking him first, and her perhaps not at all. This 
 is avery trying position. The wives of noted authors, 
 particularly in England, where the wife is not always 
 invited with her husband, have had some rather trying 
 experiences of this kind. Would that they eould all 
 behave as well as did Moore’s Bessy ! 
 
 It is the glory of woman that she was sent into the 
 
 world to live for others rather than herself, to live, yes, 
 and to die for them. Let her never forget that she was 
 sent here to make man better, to temper his greed, con- 
 trol his avarice, soften his temper, refine his grosser 
 nature, and teach him that there is something better than 
 success. These thoughts will come to help her in the 
 lonely hours when he is receiving homage and sheis not. 
 She may be apt to remember, too, that she has been his 
 inspiration, his guiding star, that but for her he would 
 not have been the poet, the orator, or the preacher. 
 _ There is said to be no burden on earth like the foolish 
 woman tied to the competent man, with the one excep- 
 tion of the false woman. No good wife would care to fill 
 either of these disagreeable alternatives. But many 
 women, otherwise good wives, have allowed wounded 
 vanity to come in and wreck the happiness of home. 
 
 More than one literary lion has cursed his celebrity 
 when it has brought to him the unhappiness of home. 
 It is said to have been one of the reasons of the separa. 
 tion of Mr. and Mrs. Dickens. 
 
 The wife may find that her ideal is made of clay, and 
 of very poor clay at that. But she only makes herself 
 ridiculous by showing up his faults to the world. What- 
 
444 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ever else he is, he is her husband, and there are but few 
 faults which he can commit of which she should speak. 
 A wife, who finds that as years go on she and her hus- 
 band are drifting farther and farther apart, is indeed 
 to be pitied. 
 
 As we grow old,’we shall need each other more and 
 more’ the faltering steps down the hill should be taken 
 hand in hand, and we should invoke all the amenities of 
 home and all its capabilities to draw us together again. 
 We should purify the current of earthly affection, which 
 is growing turbid by the water of life, remembering that 
 true dassion comes first, but true dove last. 
 
 ies 
 
 ‘ 
 be 
 
—s@HAPTER XXXIX.3- 
 
 The % Good a Rather, 
 
 ——_—________.. 
 
 T is one of the misfortunes of our 
 American way of living, that the 
 head of the house, the father—he 
 who is the support, the mainstay, 
 the highest central figure—should 
 be scarcely able to live with his 
 family at all. If he is a busy man, earning 
 their daily bread, he must leave them after a 
 hasty breakfast, to meet them again at a late 
 dinner with a chance of seeing them in the 
 “¥ evening; but, if a club man, or anxious for 
 ' the opportunity of going out in the evening 
 for improvement or change, he does not see 
 much of his family even then. The younger 
 ehildren get to regard him asa feature of Sun- 
 days, and perhaps associate him with the unpleasant 
 slavery of sitting still in church. A loving and kind 
 father will, of course, impress himself upon his family 
 and earn their affection and respect even in these brief 
 intervals; but it is too little for the proper emphasis of 
 an affection which should be almost the first in our hearts. 
 
 There must be something radically wrong in the 
 445 
 
 =F ( 
 
 aye } a (A A> 
 ig IWC Png G4 TS Ke_ | GZ 
 So Ca ots ge le 
 
446 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 arrangements of life when this can happen. LKither 
 women should enter more into the business of life or man 
 should work less, for a father is the natural teacher, 
 guardian, and companion of his family. We will, for the 
 moment, ignore the fact that he may desire the rest and 
 the comforts of the home which he supports but scarcely 
 enjoys; we will consider only the loss to his children of 
 his society. | 
 The father is, of course, the natural and the best com- 
 panion for his boys; to teach them to swim, to ride, to 
 master the common knowledge and accomplishments of 
 life, should be his pleasure. He should be their teacher 
 in the arts of gunnery and the noble science of the fish- 
 ing-rod. They ought to be able to remember him as the 
 story-teller and companion of their sports, the best guide, 
 and the most agreeable company that they will ever 
 know. How they hang on his lips as he tells them of his 
 own boyhood, his sufferings at the poorly fed boarding- 
 school, where he had to gather raw turnips in the field! 
 How they like to hear of the size of his first trout; how 
 magnificent he looks to them as he tells of his shooting 
 a deer! How much, as they grow older, they enjoy his 
 college stories! His early struggles and conquests give 
 them heart for the same strife and victory which they are 
 about to plunge into. 
 _ It is a very happy circumstance also for the grown 
 daughters if their father, after having petted them as 
 little girls, after helping to solve the difficult question in 
 arithmetic, after construing the Latin, and giving them 
 a little sweep of his strong penmanship, is still young and 
 
THE GOOD FATHER. ART 
 
 fresh enough to go out into society with them. A young- 
 minded papa is a great boon to a daughter. 
 
 But here again comes in a national mistake. Our best 
 men will rarely go to parties; they leave all that work to 
 the mamma. Fatigued they no doubt are by their hard 
 fight with the world, and society offers them no seat, 
 no welcome. | 
 
 When our middle-aged men will make a point of going 
 into society, then, and not till then, will they become a 
 part of it, and the women will find, what many of them 
 have already found, that they are much better worth 
 talking to than the boys. 
 
 A good father owes it to his wife and children to thus 
 keep pace with them in their amusements, not allowing 
 himself to get rusty, or to have an entirely different set 
 of ideas and occupations. They cannot enter into his 
 professional or business life. When he leaves after 
 breakfast, he becomes a mystery to them. But he can, 
 on his return, go with them to the theatre, the party, or 
 the concert, and should try to do so to make himself a 
 part of them. 
 
 They, in their turn, the sons and daughters, should 
 have every delicate attention, every agreeable accom- 
 plishment, ready to make home delightful to the father 
 who works for them. There is something pathetic in the 
 idea of the chained slave, chained to the oar, to whom all 
 look for money, clothing, food. If he is a millionaire, 
 all goes well, but if he isa struggling man, threatened 
 with ruin, knowing that so long as he lives he must pull 
 up the stony hill, the only reward when he reaches the 
 top, the going down the other side, it is sad enough. It 
 
448 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 is wonderful that so many bear it patiently, and accept 
 it as the inevitable doom! 
 
 What fireside can be made too easy for such a man ? 
 What good dinners, cheerful faces, what voices full of 
 obedience, should greet the hard-working, patient man! 
 His newspaper should be aired, his slippers ready, his 
 particular magazine in waiting. All the disagreeable 
 remarks about bills and the coal should be deferred until 
 after breakfast next morning—that moment conceded by 
 all for disagreeable communications. He should be for- 
 given if he is abstracted and silent. His cares may be 
 greater than he can bear, but he should be tenderly 
 moved to talk, and be merry, at least cheerful. 
 
 We all know families in which the mother and daugh- 
 ters are in conspiracy against the father, where he is 
 looked upon simply as a bank to be robbed, where the 
 buying of expensive dresses must go on, whether they 
 can be paid for or not, and where the asking for and 
 obtaining of money is all the need they have of him. 
 Henry James, Jr., has drawn the picture in ‘‘The Pen- 
 sion Beauregard,’ his companion-piece to ‘* Daisy Mil- 
 ler.’ Such rapacity and vulgarity are too common. 
 They belong to the abuses of home. 
 
 But we know many another home where there are 
 silent economies practiced, heart-breaking ones some- 
 times, rather than to ‘‘ask father for money;’’ where 
 each one feels a personal indebtedness to the hard-work- 
 ing head of the house, and where each one sighs for the 
 time when he or she can help along. 
 
 The household is the home of the man as well as of 
 the child. To it he should bring all that is best in him; 
 
THE GOOD FATHER. 449 
 
 his culture, if he has any, at least, his lofty, true 
 thoughts, his benevolence and refinement. He should 
 not, in getting rich, sacrifice himself. This is too greata 
 price to pay for bread and lodging, fine hangings and 
 fine clothes. A business man should take time to read, 
 else when he becomes a man of leisure, he will find that 
 he cannot read. He must bring into his household that 
 spirit which is understanding, health and _ self-help. 
 There was never a country which offered to the working 
 man, the business man, the true man, such opportunity 
 fora happy home as this. He can, in the first place, be 
 
 educated without money; he can go to work without it. 
 He can begin without patronage; the field is as open to 
 - the poor boy as to the rich one. It is character which 
 determines everything. 
 
 It is sad to be obliged to confess that many a home, 
 full of prosperity, full of rosy children, is still unhappy 
 because of some mistake of father or mother, or both, 
 some unruly tongue, some implacable temper! It seems 
 as if a demon stood at the door and warned happiness 
 away. Nothing can be urged in such a case but the old, 
 old remedy of good manners, manners which shall com- 
 pel an outward decency, and which will make one hesi- 
 tate to exhibit the shame of an open quarrel. To see 
 one’s parents quarrel is the most dreadful suffering, the 
 
 most acute mortification, to a family of children. 
 Many a marriage has commenced, like the morning, 
 red, and perished like a mushroom. Wherefore? Because 
 the married pair neglected to be as agreeable to each 
 other after their union as they were before it,’’ says that 
 intelligent old maid Fredrika Bremer. Old maids always 
 
450° WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 write well about marriage and the education of children. 
 Perhaps the looker-on is the best judge of the game. 
 
 The quarrels of married people who really love each 
 other, and which come from irritated temper, are soon 
 healed, and the daily life goes on without a sensible break 
 between them. But, for the sake of their home, these 
 dissensions should be avoided as much as possible. They 
 both lose dignity and place in the ideas of their family, 
 and the servants are not as apt to obey. 
 
 A father should never under any circumstances permit 
 his children to treat him with disrespect. They will 
 never forgive him for it even if he forgives. Nor should 
 he desert his post as captain of the ship. In those 
 unhappy families, where, as in the tragedy of ‘‘ King 
 Lear,’’ we see the result of power given away, thereis a 
 perpetual lesson of the folly of a father’s renunciation of 
 his power. Happy for him if in his group of daughters 
 there be one Cordelia to balance Regan and Goneril. 
 
 The wise father will so graduate his expenditure, if 
 living on an income, that his expected expenditure will 
 reach but two-thirds of his income, knowing well that the 
 unexpected will consume the other third. The trouble 
 is, in America, that no one knows exactly what his 
 income is. In England he can tell to the quarter of a 
 penny, even for his great-grandchildren. But here, where 
 by far the largest number live from hand to mouth, 
 thorough economy is almost impossible. Things look 
 well one year, and a hospitable table, good clothes, and 
 fine carriages are not impossible. Things look very much 
 less well the next year, and these now necessaries of life 
 become impossible; so the business of making one’s 
 
THE GOOD FATHER. 451 
 
 house a scene of consistent expenditure, without miserly 
 prudence or injudicious luxury, is a very difficult one. 
 Our exchequer resembles our climate—heavy rains or a 
 long drought. We do not know which to calculate upon. 
 
 All these facts work against a thoroughly understood 
 and possible economy. All that the good father can do 
 is to aim at making his children feel that home is the 
 happiest place in the world, as he and their mother 
 should aim at making it the best. 
 
From Lela [¥)ontex’ Slrts of [bcaufy. 
 
 FEMALE BEAUTY. 
 
 ‘** Look upon this face, 
 
 Examine every feature and proportion, 
 And you with me must grant this rare piece finish’d. 
 Nature, despairing e’er to make the like, 
 Brake suddenly the mould in which ’twas fashion’d;, 
 Yet, to increase your pity, and call on 
 Your justice with severity, this fair outside 
 Was but the cover of a fairer mind.” 
 
 —MASSINGER’s Parliament of Love. 
 
 T is a most difficult task to fix upon any 
 general and satisfactory standard of 
 
 female beauty, since forms and qualities the most 
 opposite and contradictory are looked upon by dif- ; 
 ferent nations, and by different individuals, as the ; 
 perfection of beauty. Some will have it thata 
 beautiful woman must be fair, while others conceive 5 
 nothing but brunettes to be handsome. A Chinese 
 belle must be fat, have small eyes, short nose, high 
 cheeks, and feet which are not longer than a man’s 
 finger. In the Labrador Islands no woman is beau- 
 tiful who has not black teeth and white hair. In Greenland 
 and some other northern countries, the women paint their faces. 
 
 blue, and some yellow. Some nations squeeze the heads of chil- 
 452 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 4538 
 
 dren between boards to make them square, while others prefer 
 the shape of a sugar-loaf as the highest type of beauty for that 
 important top-piece to the “human form divine.” So that there 
 is nothing truer than the old proverb, that “there is no account- 
 ing for tastes.” This difference of opinion with respect to 
 beauty in various countries is, however, principally confined to 
 color and form, and may, undoubtedly, be traced to national 
 habits and customs. Nor is it fair, perhaps, to oppose the tastes 
 of uncivilized people to the opinions of civilized nations. But 
 then it must not be overlooked that the standard of beauty in 
 civilized countries is by no means agreed upon. Neither the 
 buona roba of the Italians, nor the linda of the Spaniards, nor 
 the embonpoint of the French, can fully reach the mystical 
 standard of beauty to the eye of American taste. And if I were 
 to say that it consists of an indescribable combination of all 
 these, still you would go beyond even that, before you would 
 be content with the definition. Perhaps the best definition of 
 beauty ever given, was by a French poet, who called it a cer- 
 tain je ne sais quoi, or “I don’t know what!” 
 
 It is very fortunate, however, for the human race that all men 
 do not have exactly a correct taste in the matter of female 
 beauty, for if they had, a fatal degree of strife would be likely 
 to. ensue as to who should possess the few types of perfect 
 beauty. The old man who rejoiced that all did not see alike, as, 
 if they did, all would be after his wife, was not far out of the 
 way. 
 
 A HANDSOME FORM. 
 
 Those gloomy and ascetic beings who contemn the human 
 Dody as only a cumbersome lump of clay, as a piece of corrup- 
 tion, and as the charnel-house of the soul, insult their Maker, by 
 despising the most ingenious and beautiful piece of mechanism 
 
454 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 of His physical creation. God has displayed so much care and 
 love upon our bodies that He not only created them for useful- 
 ness, but He adorned them with loveliness. If it was not beneath 
 our Maker’s glory to frame them in beauty, it certainly cannot 
 be beneath us to respect and preserve the charms which we have 
 received from His loving hand. ‘To slight these gifts is to des- 
 pise the giver. He that has made the temple of our souls beau- 
 tiful, certainly would not have us neglect the means of preserving 
 that beauty. Every woman owes it not only to herself, but to 
 society, to be as beautiful and charming as she possibly can. 
 The popular cant about the beauty of the mind as something 
 which is inconsistent with, and in opposition to the beauty of 
 the body, is a superstition which cannot be for a moment enter- 
 tained by any sound and rational mind. To despise the temple 
 is to insult its occupant. The divine intelligence which has 
 planted the roses of beauty in the human cheeks, and lighted its 
 fires in the eyes, has also intrusted us with a mission to multiply 
 and increase these charms, as well as to develop and educate our 
 intellects. 
 
 Let every woman feel, then, that so far from doing wrong, 
 she is in the pleasant ways of duty when she is studying how to 
 develop and preserve the natural beauty of her body. 
 
 ‘*'There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: 
 If the ill spirit have so fair a house, 
 Good things will strive to dwell with it.” 
 —SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 HOW TO OBTAIN A HANDSOME FORM. 
 
 The foundation for a beautiful form must undoubtedly be 
 laid in infancy. That is, nothing should be done at that tender 
 age to obstruct the natural swell and growth of all the parts. 
 “ As the twig is bent, the tree’s inclined,” is quite as true of the 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 455 
 
 body as of the mind. Common sense teaches us that the young 
 fibres ought to be left, unincumbered by obstacles of art, to 
 shoot harmoniously into the shape that nature drew. But this 
 is a business for mothers to attend to. 
 
 It is important, however, that the girl should understand, as 
 soon as she comes to the years of discretion, or as soon as she is 
 old enough to realize the importance of beauty to a woman, that 
 she has, to a certain extent, the management of her own form 
 within her power. The first thing to be thought of is health, 
 for there can be no development of beauty in sickly fibres. 
 Plenty of exercise, in the open air, is the great recipe. Exercise, 
 not “philosophically and with religious gravity undertaken, but 
 the wild romping activities of a spirited girl who runs up and 
 down as though her veins were full of wine. Everything should 
 be done to give joy and vivacity to the spirits at this age, for 
 nothing so much aids in giving vigor and elasticity to the form 
 as these. A crushed, or sad, or moping spirit, allowed at this 
 tender age, when the shape is forming, is a fatal cause of a 
 flabby and moping body. A bent and stooping form is quite 
 sure to come of a bent and stooping spirit. If you would have 
 the shape “sway gracefully on the firmly poised waist ”—if you 
 would see the chest rise and swell in noble and healthy expan- 
 sion, send out the girl to constant and vigorous exercise in the 
 open air. 
 
 And, what is good for the girl is good for the woman too. 
 The same attention to the laws of health, and the same pursuit 
 of out-door exercise will help a lady to develop a handsome form 
 until she is twenty or twenty-five years old. “Many a rich lady 
 would give all her fortune to possess the expanded chest and 
 rounded arm of her kitchen girl. Well, she might have had 
 both, by the same amount of exercise and spare living.” And 
 she can do much to acquire them even yet. 
 
 There have been many instances of sedentary men, of shrunk 
 
456 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 and sickly forms, with deficient muscle and scraggy arms, who 
 by a change of business to a vigorous out-door exercise acquired 
 fine robust forms, with arms as powerful and muscular as Hercu- 
 les himself. I knew a young lady, who at twenty-two years of 
 age, in a great degree overcame the deformity of bad arms. In 
 every other respect she was a most bewitching beauty. But her 
 arms were distressingly thin and scraggy; and she determined 
 at whatever pains, to remedy the evil. She began by a strict 
 adherence to such a strong nutritious diet as was most favorable 
 to the creation of muscle. She walked every day several hours 
 in the open air, and never neglected the constant daily use of 
 the dumb-bells. Thus she kept on, exercising and drilling her- 
 self, for two years, when a visible improvement showed itself, in 
 the straightened and expanded chest; and in the fine hard swell 
 of muscle upon the once deformed arms. She had fought, and 
 she had conquered. Her perseverance was abundantly rewarded. 
 Let the lady, who is ambitious for such charms, be assured that, 
 if she has them not, they can be obtained on no lighter condi- 
 tions. 
 
 HOW TO ACQUIRE A BRIGHT AND SMOOTH SKIN. 
 
 The most perfect form will avail a woman little, unless it pos- 
 sess also that brightness which is the finishing touch and final 
 polish of a beautiful lady. What avails a plump and well- 
 rounded neck or shoulder if it is dim and dingy withal? What 
 charm can be found in the finest modeled arm if its skin is 
 coarse and rusty? A grater, even though moulded in the shape 
 of the most charming female arm, would possess small attrac- 
 tions toa man of taste and refinement. 
 
 I have to tell you, ladies—and the same must be said to the 
 gentlemen, too—that the great secret of acquiring a bright and 
 beautiful skin lies in three simple things—temperance, exercise, 
 and cleanliness, A young lady, were she as fair as Hebe, as 
 
- TOILET MEDICINES. 457 
 
 charming as Venus herself, would soon destroy it all by too high 
 living and late hours. “Take the ordinary fare of a fashionable 
 woman, and you have a style of living which is sufficient to 
 destroy the greatest beauty. It is not the quantity so much as 
 the quality of the dishes that produces the mischief. Take, for 
 instance, only strong coffee and hot bread and butter, and you 
 have a diet which is most destructive to beauty. The heated 
 grease, long indulged in, is sure to derange the stomach, and, by 
 creating or increasing bilious disorders, gradually overspreads 
 the fair skin with a wan or yellow hue. After this meal comes 
 the long fast. from nine in the morning till five or six in the 
 afternoon, when dinner is served, and the half-famished beauty 
 sits down to sate a keen appetite with peppered soups, fish, roast, 
 boiled, broiled, and fried meat; game, tarts, sweet-meats, ices, 
 fruits, etc., etc., etc. Howmust the constitution suffer in trying 
 to digest this melange! How does the heated complexion bear 
 witness to the combustion within! Let the fashionable lady keep 
 up this habit, and add the other one of late hours, and her own 
 looking-glass will tell her that ‘ we all do fade as the leaf.? The 
 firm texture of the rounded form gives way to a flabby softness, 
 or yields to a scraggy leanness, or shapeless fate. The once fair 
 skin assumes a pallid rigidity or bloated redness, which the 
 deluded victim would still regard as the roses of health and 
 beauty. And when she at last becomes aware of her condition, 
 to repair the ravages she flies to paddings, to give shape where 
 there is none; to stays, to compress into form the swelling chaos 
 of flesh; and to paints, to rectify the dingy complexion. But 
 vain are all these attempts. No; if dissipation, late hours, and 
 immoderation have once wrecked the fair vessel of female 
 charms, it is not in the power of Esculapius himself to right the 
 shattered bark, and make it ride the sea in gallant trim again.” 
 Cleanliness is a subject of indispensable consideration in the 
 pursuit of a beautiful skin. The frequent use of the tepid bath 
 
458 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. — 
 
 is the best cosmetic I can recommend to my readers in this con- 
 nection. By such ablutions, the accidental corporeal impurities: 
 are thrown off, cutaneous obstructions removed; and while the 
 surface of the body is preserved in its original brightness, many 
 threatening disorders are prevented. It is by this means that the 
 women of the Hast render their skins as soft and fair as those of 
 the tenderest babes. I wish to impress upon every beautiful 
 woman, and especially upon the one who leads a city life, that 
 she cannot long preserve the brightness of her charms with- 
 out a daily resort to this purifying agent. She should make the 
 bath as indispensable an article in her house as her looking-glass. 
 
 ARTIFICIAL MEANS. 
 
 Besides the rational and natural means of developing and pre- 
 serving the beauty of the skin, there are many artificial devices 
 by which a lady may keep up and show off her attractions to 
 great advantage, and for a long period. 
 
 As long ago as 1809, an odd and _ half-crazy old duke in Lon- 
 don, used to take a sweat in a hot-milk bath, which was found 
 to impart a remarkable whiteness and smoothness to his skin, 
 and the ladies very naturally caught the idea of using the milk- 
 bath as a means of beautifying the complexion. In another place 
 I have mentioned some ludicrous scenes which followed the habit 
 of milk-bathing in Paris. 
 
 But a far more rational, less expensive, and more scientific 
 bath for cleaning and beautifying the skin is that of tepid water 
 and bran, which is really a remarkable fine softener and purifier 
 of the surface of the body. 
 
 The ladies of ancient Greece and Rome, who were said to be 
 remarkable for the brightness and transparency of their skins, 
 used to rub themselves with a sponge, dampened with cold water, 
 and follow this process by rubbing hard with a dry napkin. 
 Rightly managed, the human skin is susceptible of a high polish. 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 459 
 
 Friction is never to be neglected by those who would shine in 
 the courts of beauty. 
 
 The following wash was in great use among the beauties of 
 the Spanish court, and gives a polished whiteness to the neck 
 and arms. 
 
 Infuse wheat-bran, well sifted, for four hours in white wine 
 vinegar; add to it five yolks of eggs and two grains of amber- 
 gris, and distill the whole. It should be carefully corked for 
 twelve or fifteen days, when it will be fit for use. 
 
 A lady may apply it every time she makes her toilet, and it 
 will be sure to add a fine polish and lustre to her skin. 
 
 The following wash is a great favorite with the ladies on the 
 continent of Europe, and cannot be used without the happiest 
 effects, while it is a delightful and refreshing perfume: 
 
 Distill two handfuls of jessamine flowers in a quart of rose- 
 water and a quart of orange-water. Strain through porous 
 paper, and add a scruple of musk and a scruple of ambergris. 
 
 There cannot: be a more agreeable wash for the skin. 
 
 BEAUTY OF ELASTICITY. 
 
 The most perfect form, and the most brilliant skin will avail 
 a woman little, unless she possess, also, that physical agility, or 
 elasticity, which is the soul of a beautiful form in woman. A 
 half-alive and sluggish body, however perfectly formed, is, to 
 say the most, but half beautiful. When you behold a woman 
 who is like a wood-nymph, with a form elastic in all its parts, 
 and a foot as light as that of the goddess, whose flying step 
 “scarcely brushed the unbending corn,” whose conscious limbs 
 and agile grace move in harmony with the light of her spark- 
 ling eyes, you may be sure that she carries all hearts before her. 
 There are women whose exquisite forms seem as flexible, wavy 
 and undulating as the graceful lilies of the field. The stiff and 
 prim city belle, incased in hoops and buckram, may well envy 
 
460 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 that agile, bouncing, country romp, who, with nature’s roses in 
 her cheeks, skips it like a fawn, and sends out a laugh as natural 
 and merry as the notes of song-birds in June. And she may be 
 sure that her husband or lover never looks upon such a specimen 
 of nature’s own beauty, but he quietly wishes in his heart that 
 his wife, or sweetheart, were like her. Let the city belle learn 
 a lesson from this. She can have the same charms on the same 
 conditions that the country lass has obtained them. But, by 
 high living, late hours, and all the other dissipations of fashion- 
 able city life—never! That country lass goes to bed with the 
 robin, and is up with the lark. Her life is after nature’s fashion, 
 and she is rewarded with nature’s most sprightly gifts. Whereas 
 this city belle goes to bed at indefinite midnight hours, and 
 crawls languidly out at mid-day, with a jaded body and a fever- 
 ish mind, to mope through the tedious rounds of daily dullness, 
 until night again rallies her faint and exhausted spirits. Her 
 life is by gaslight. 
 
 Most that I have said on the means of obtaining a bright and 
 handsome form, applies equally to this subject. But, there are 
 some artificial tricks which I have known beautiful ladies to resort 
 to for the purpose of giving elasticity and sprightliness to the 
 animal frame. The ladies of France and Italy, especially those 
 who are professionally, or as amateurs, engaged in exercises 
 which require great activity of the limbs, as dancing, or play.ng 
 on instruments, sometimes rub themselves, on retiring to bed, 
 with the following preparation: 
 
 Fat of the stag, or deer . , : Nate, 
 
 - Florence oil (or olive oil) . ‘ : + NG ree 
 Virgin wax. ‘ : : ; . 3 OZ 
 Musk 304 7 : f : : ; 1 grains: 
 White brandy. ; : 5 . $ pint. 
 Rose water . . : , : . 4 02. 
 
 a 
 ay oe 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. ae tAGl 
 
 Put the fat, oil and wax into a well glazed earthen vessel, and 
 let them simmer over a slow fire until they are assimilated; then 
 pour in the other ingredients, and let the whole gradually cool, 
 when it will be fit for use. There is no doubt but that this mix- 
 ture, frequently and thoroughly rubbed upon the body on going 
 to bed, will impart a remarkable degree of elasticity to the mus- 
 cles. In the morning, after this preparation has been used, the 
 body should be thoroughly wiped with a sponge, dampened with 
 eold water. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL FACE. 
 
 If it be true “that the face is the index of the mind,” the 
 recipe for a beautiful face must be something that reaches the 
 soul. What can be done for a human face, that has a sluggish, 
 sullen, arrogant, angry mind looking out of every feature? An 
 habitually ill-natured, discontented mind ploughs the face with 
 inevitable marks of its own vice. However well shaped, or 
 however bright its complexion, no such face can ever become 
 really beautiful. If a woman’s soul is without cultivation, with- 
 out taste, without refinement, without the sweetness of a happy 
 mind, not all the mysteries of art can ever make her face beauti- 
 ful. And, on the other hand, it is impossible to dim the bright- 
 ness of an elegant and polished intellect. The radiance of a 
 charming mind strikes through all deformity of features, and still 
 asserts its sway over the world of the affections. It has been my 
 privilege to see the most celebrated beauties that shine in all the 
 gilded courts of fashion throughout the world, from St. James’s 
 to St. Petersburgh, from Paris to Hindostan, and yet I have 
 found no art which can atone for an unpolished mind, and an 
 unlovely heart. That chastened and delightful activity of soul, 
 that spiritual energy which gives animation, grace, and living 
 light to the animal frame, is, after all, the real source of beauty 
 in a woman. It is that which gives eloquence to the language 
 
462 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 of her eyes, which sends the sweetest vermilion mantling to the 
 cheek, and lights up the whole personnel as if her very body 
 thought. That, ladies, is the ensign of beauty, and the herald 
 of charms, which are sure to fill the beholder with answering 
 emotion, and irrepressible delight. I never see a creature of such 
 lively and lovely animation, but I fall in love with her myself, 
 and only wish that I were a man, that I might marry her. 
 
 I cannot resist the temptation to close with a beautiful quota- 
 tion from an old Greek poet, which proves that common sense 
 on this subject of beauty is not by any means of recent date in 
 the world. . 
 
 ‘** Why tinge the cheek of youth? the snowy neck, 
 Why load with jewels? why anoint the hair? 
 Oh, lady, scorn these arts; but richly deck 
 Thy soul with virtues; thus for love prepare. 
 Lo, with what vermil tints the apple blooms! 
 Say, doth the rose the painter’s hand require? 
 Away, then, with cosmetics and perfumes! 
 
 The charms of nature most excite desire.” 
 
 HOW TO OBTAIN A BEAUTIFUL COMPLEXION, 
 
 Though it is true that a beautiful mind is the first thing requi- 
 site for a beautiful face, yet how much more charming will the 
 whole become through the aid of a fine complexion? It is not 
 easy to overrate the importance of complexion. The features 
 of a Juno with a dull skin would never fascinate. The forehead, 
 the nose, the lips, may all be faultless in size and shape; but 
 still, they can hardly look beautiful without the aid of a bright 
 complexion. Even the finest eyes lose more than half their 
 power, if they are surrounded by an inexpressive complexion. It 
 is in the coloring or complexion that the artist shows his great 
 skill in giving expression to the face. Overlooking entirely the 
 matter of vanity, it is a woman’s duty to use all the means in her 
 power to beautify and preserve her complexion. It is fitting 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. . 463 
 
 that the “index of the soul” should be kept as clean and bright 
 and beautiful as possible. 
 
 A stomach frequently crowded with greasy food, or with arti- 
 ficial stimulants of any kind, will in a short time spoil the 
 brightest complexion. All excesses tend to do the same thing. 
 Frequent ablution with pure cold water, followed by gentle and 
 very frequent rubbing with a dry napkin, is one of the best cos- 
 metics ever employed. 
 
 I knew many fashionable ladies in Paris who used to bind 
 their faces, every night on going to bed, with slices of raw beef, 
 which is said to keep the skin from wrinkles, while it gives a 
 youthful freshness and brilliancy to the complexion. I have no 
 doubt of its efficacy. The celebrated Madam Vestris used to 
 sleep every night with her face plastered up with a kind of paste 
 to ward off the threatening wrinkles, and keep her charming 
 complexion from fading. I will give the recipe for making the 
 Vestris’ Paste for the benefit of any of my readers whose look- 
 ing-glass warns them that the dimness and wrinkles of age are 
 extinguishing the roses of youth: 
 
 The whites of four eggs boiled in rose-water, half an ounce of 
 alum, half an ounce of oil of sweet almonds; beat the whole 
 together till it assumes the consistence of a paste. 
 
 The above, spread upon a silk or muslin mask, and worn at 
 night, will not only keep back the wrinkles and preserve the 
 complexion fair, but it is a great remedy where the skin becomes 
 too loosely attached to the muscles, as it gives firmness to the 
 parts. When I was last in Paris I was shown a recent inven- 
 tion of ready-made masks for the face, composed of fine thick 
 white silk, lined, or plastered, with some kind of lard or paste, 
 which is designed to beautify and preserve the complexion. I do 
 not know the component parts of this preparation; but I doubt 
 if it is any better than the recipe which was given to me by 
 MadameVestris, and which I have given above. 
 
464 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 The most remarkable wash for the face which I have ever 
 known, and which is said to have been known to the beauties of 
 the court of Charles IIL, is made of a simple tincture of benzoin 
 precipitated by water. All you have to do in: preparing it is to 
 take a small piece of the gum benzoin and boil it in spirits 
 of wine till it becomes arich tincture. Fifteen drops of this, 
 poured into a glass of water, will produce a mixture which will 
 look like milk, and emits a most agreeable perfume. 
 
 This delightful wash seems to have the effect of calling the 
 purple stream of the blood to the external fibres of the face, and 
 gives the cheeks a beautiful rosy color. If left on the face to 
 dry, it will render the skin clear and brilliant. It is also an 
 excellent remedy for spots, freckles, pimples, and eruptions, if 
 they have not been of long standing. 
 
 HABITS WHICH DESTROY THE COMPLEXION, 
 
 There are many disorders of the skin which are induced by 
 culpable ignorance, and which owe their origin entirely to 
 circumstances connected with fashion or habit. The frequent 
 and sudden changes in this country from heat to cold, by 
 abruptly exciting or repressing the secretions of the skin, 
 roughen its texture, injure its hue, and often deform it with 
 unseemly eruptions. And many of the fashions of dressing the 
 head are still more inimical to the complexion than the climate. 
 The habit the ladies have of going into the open air without a 
 hat, and often without a veil, is a ruinous one for the skin. 
 Indeed, the fashion of the ladies’ bonnets, which only cover a few 
 inches of the back of the head, is a great tax upon the beauty 
 of the complexion. In this climate, especially, the head and face 
 need protection from the atmosphere. Not only a woman’s 
 beauty, but her health requires that she should never step into 
 the open air, particularly in autumnal evenings, without a sufii- 
 cient covering to her head. And, if she regards the beauty of 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 465 
 
 her complexion, she must never go out into the hot sun without 
 her veil. : 
 
 The custom, common among ladies, of drying the perspiration 
 from their faces by powdering, or of cooling them when they 
 are hot, from exposure to the sun or dancing, by washing with 
 cold water, is most destructive to the complexion, and not unfre- 
 quently spreads a humor over the face which renders it hideous 
 forever. A little common sense ought to teach a woman that, 
 when she is overheated, she ought to allow herself to cool gradu- 
 ally; and, by all means, to avoid going into the air, or allowing 
 a draught through an open door, or window, to blow upon her 
 while she is thus heated. If she will not attend to these rules, 
 she will be fortunate, saying nothing about her beauty, if her life 
 does not pay the penalty of her thoughtlessness. 
 
 Ladies ought also to know that excessive heat is as bad as 
 excessive cold for the complexion, and often causes distempers 
 of the skin, which are difficult of cure. Look at the rough 
 and dingy face of the desert-wandering gipsy, and you behold 
 the effects of exposure to alternate heats and colds. 
 
 To remedy the rigidity of the muscles of the face, and to cure 
 any roughness which may be induced by daily exposure, the fol- 
 lowing wash may be applied with almost certain relief: 
 
 Mix two parts of white brandy with one part of rose-water, 
 and wash the face with it night and morning. 
 
 The brandy keeps up a gentle action of the skin, which is so 
 essential to its healthy appearance, also thoroughly cleanses the 
 surface, while the rose-water counteracts the drying nature of 
 the brandy, and leaves the skin in a natural, soft, and flexible 
 state. 
 
 At a trifling expense, a lady may provide herself with a delight- 
 ful wash for the face, which is a thousand times better than the 
 expensive lotions which she purchases at the apothecaries. 
 Besides, she has ate advantage of knowing what she is using, 
 
466 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 which is far from being the case where she buys the prepared 
 patent lotions. These preparations are generally put up by igno- 
 -rant quacks and pretenders; and I have known the most loath- 
 some, beauty-destroying, indolent ulcers to be produced by 
 the use of them. 
 
 The following is a recipe for makiioe Mother wash for the 
 face, which is a favorite with the ladies of France. . e 
 
 Take equal parts of the seeds of the melon pumpkin, gourd, 
 and cucumber, pounded till they are reduced to powder; add to 
 it sufficient fresh cream to dilute the flour, and then add milk 
 enough to reduce the whole to a thin paste. Add a grain of 
 musk, and a few drops of the oil of lemon, Anoint the face with 
 this, leave it on twenty or thirty minutes, or overnight if con- 
 venient, and wash off with warm water. It gives a remarkable 
 
 purity and brightness to the complexion. Pe 2 
 A fashionable beauty at St. Petersburgh gave me the following 
 
 recipe for a wash, which imparts a remarkable lustre to the face, 
 and is the greatest favorite of a Russian lady’s toilet. 
 
 Infuse a handful of well sifted wheat bran for four hours i ine 
 
 white wine vinegar; add to it five yolks of eggs and two grains 
 of musk, and distill the whole. Bottle it, keep carefully corked, 
 fifteen days, when it will be fit for use. Apply it over night, 
 and wash in the morning with tepid water. 
 
 Pimpernel Water is a sovereign wash with all the ladies all 
 over the continent of Europe, for whitening the complexion. 
 All they do to prepare it is simply to steep that wholesome 
 plant in pure rain water. It is such a favorite that it is regarded 
 as almost indispensable to a lady’s toilet, who is particularly 
 attentive to the brightness of her complexion. 
 
 PAINTS AND POWDEBS. 
 
 If Satan has ever had any direct agency in inducing woman to 
 spoil or deform her own beauty, it must have been in tempting 
 
 See Sn 
 
 oe an - a o 
 we ee A eee ee aed 
 
 , at aie Coa . 
 - ase ony Risin é Py 8 ee if ~ ie io oko m 
 —_ Vee en eee Pe ee ee on oh, 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 467 
 
 ther to use paints and enameling. Nothing so effectually writes 
 memento mori! on the cheek of beauty as this ridiculous and 
 culpable practice. Ladies ought to know that it is a sure spoiler 
 of the skin, and good taste ought to teach them that it is a 
 frightful distorter and deformer of the natural beauty of the 
 ‘human face divine.” The greatest charm of beauty is in the 
 | expression of a lovely face; in those divine flashes of joy, and 
 good nature, and love, which beam in the human countenance. 
 But what expression can there be in “a face bedaubed with 
 white paint and enameled? No flush of pleasure, no thrill ot 
 hope, no light of love can shine through the incrusted mould.” 
 Her face is as expressionless as that of a painted mummy. And 
 Jet no woman imagine that the men do not readily detect this 
 poisonous mask upon the skin. Many a time have I seen a gen- 
 tleman shrink from saluting a brilliant lady, as though it was a 
 death’s head he were compelled to kiss, The secret was, that 
 her face and lips were bedaubed with paints, All white paints 
 are not only destructive to the skin, but they are ruinous to the 
 health. I have known paralytic affections and premature death 
 to be traced to their use. But alas! I am afraid that there never 
 was a time when many of the gay and fashionable ot my sex did 
 not make themselves both contemptible and *idiculous by this dis- 
 gusting trick. The ancient ladies seem to have outdone even 
 modern belles in this painting business. The terrible old Juve- 
 nal draws the following picture of one of the flirts of his day: 
 
 But tell me yet; this thing, thus bedaubed and oiled, 
 Poulticed, plastered, baked by turns and boiled, 
 Thus with pomatums, ointments, lacquered o’er, 
 
 Is it a face, Usidius, or a sore? 
 
 But it is proper to remark, that what has been said against 
 ‘white paints and enamels, does not apply with equal force to the 
 use of rouge. Rouging still leaves the neck and arms, and more 
 
4068 WHAT CAN A WOMAN Do. 
 
 than three-quarters of the face totheir natural complexion, and 
 the language of the heart, expressed by the general complexion, 
 is not obstructed. A little vegetable rouge tinging the cheek of 
 » beautiful woman, who, trom ill health, or an anxious mind, 
 Joses her roses, may be excusable; and so transparent is the 
 texture of such rouge (if unadulterated with lead), that when 
 the blood does mount to the tace, it speaks through the slight 
 covering, and enhances the fading bloom. But even this allow- 
 able artificial aid must be used with the most delicate taste and 
 discretion. The tint on the cheek should always be fainter than 
 what nature’s pallet would have painted. A violently rouged 
 woman is a disgusting sight. The excessive red on the face 
 gives a coarseness to every feature, and a general fierceness to 
 the countenance, which transforms the elegant lady of fashion 
 into a vulgar harridan. But, in no case, can even rouge be used 
 by ladies who have passed the age of life when roses are natural 
 to the cheek. A rouged old woman isa horrible sight—a distor- 
 tion of nature’s harmony! 
 
 Excessive use of powder is also a vulgar trick. None but the 
 very finest powder should ever be used, and the lady should be 
 especially careful that sufficient is not left upon the face to be 
 
 noticeable to the eye of a gentleman. She must be very partic- 
 
 ular that particles of it are not left visible about the base of the 
 nose, and in the hollow of the chin. Ladies sometimes catch up 
 their powder and rub it on in a hurry, without even stopping to 
 look in the glass, and go into company with their faces looking 
 as though they just came out of a meal-bag. It is a ridiculous 
 sight, and ladies may be sure it is disgusting to gentlemen. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL EYES. 
 
 The eyes have been called the “ windows of the soul,” and all 
 
 shat I have said in another part of this book of the influ- 4 
 
 SRE Gen PE en PGi, 
 Ne ne Ok eee ea a a 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 469 
 
 ence of the passions on the beauty or deformity of the 
 face, applies with peculiar force in this place. Nowhere will 
 _ ill-nature and bad passions show themselves so glancingly as 
 in the eyes. Whenever we would find out what the soul is, we 
 look straightway into its “windows.” If they close upon us, or 
 turn away, we are forced to conclude that all is not right within. 
 On the other hand, where we see frank, happy, laughing eyes, 
 we naturally believe that amiability, sincerity and truth are in 
 the heart. Jt is not so much the color or the size of the eyes, as 
 it is their expression that makes them beautiful. 
 
 There is no more wretched deformity to a woman than a cer- 
 tain unnatural and studied languishing of the eyes, which vain 
 and silly women sometimes affect. I have read that when Sir 
 Peter Lely painted a celebrated belle who had the sweet pecul- 
 iarity of along and languishing eye, no fashionable lady for a 
 long time appeared in public who did not affect the soft sleepi- 
 ness and tender slow moving look of Sir Peter’s picture. The 
 result, of course, was, that queer leers and squints everywhere 
 met a gentleman’s gaze in the distorted faces of thefair. There 
 is no one of the beautiful organs of woman that needs to be left 
 so entirely to the unconstrained art of nature as the eye. Let 
 woman believe that all the tricks played with the eyes are 
 absurd and ruinous to beauty. It once happened in Turkey that 
 the monarch expressed his great admiration for “ large and dark- 
 lashed eyes.” From that hour, all the fair slaves on whom 
 nature had not bestowed “the wild stag-eye in sable ringlets 
 rolling ” set to work to supply the deficiency with circles of anti- 
 mony. Thousands of beautiful women must have frightfully 
 distorted themselves. There is, invariably, a lovely harmony 
 between the color of the eye and its fringes and the complex- 
 ion of a woman, which cannot be broken up by art without 
 an insult to nature. The fair complexion is generally accom- 
 panied with blue eyes, light hair, and light eyebrows and eye- 
 
47U WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 lashes. The delicacy of one feature is preserved, in effect and 
 beauty, by the corresponding softness of the other. But, take 
 this fair creature, and draw a black line over her softly tinctured. 
 eyes, stain their beamy fringes with a sombre hue, and how 
 frightfully have you mutilated nature! On the other hand, a 
 brunette with light eyebrows, would be a caricature of a beauti- 
 ful woman. If a woman has the misfortune from disease, or 
 otherwise, to have deficient eyebrows, she may delicately supply 
 the want, as far as she can, with artificial penciling; but in 
 doing this, she must scrupulously follow nature and make the 
 color of her penciling to correspond with her complexion. The 
 eastern women, many of whom have large dark eyes, have great 
 skill in penciling the eye so as to add to its natural power; but 
 I have ‘witnessed ridiculous failures in such tricks, even there. 
 The Turkish and Circassian women use henna for penciling the 
 eyes. Among the Arabs of the desert, the women blacken the 
 edge of their eyelids with a black powder, and draw a line 
 round the eye with it, to make the organ appear large. Large 
 black eyes are the standard of beauty among nearly all eastern 
 women. 
 
 The Spanish ladies have a custom of squeezing orange juice 
 into their eyes to make them brilliant. The operation's a little 
 painful for a moment, but there is no doubt that it does cleanse 
 the eye and impart to it, temporarily, a remarkable brightness. 
 But the best receipt for bright eyes is to keep good hours. Just 
 enough regular and natural sleep is the great enkindler of 
 “ woman’s most charming light.” 
 
 Let me warn ladies against the use of white veils. Scarcely 
 anything can strain and jade and injure the eye more than this 
 practice. There is reason to believe that the sight sometimes 
 becomes permanently injured by them. 
 
 ta a 
 
 It is within the power of almost every lady to have long and 4 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 471 
 
 strong eye-lashes by simply chipping, with scissors, the points 
 of the hair once in five or six weeks. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL MOUTH AND LIPS. 
 
 The beauty of the mouth and lips has been a rapturous theme 
 for lovers and poets ever since the world began. Old Hafez, the 
 great poet of Persia, sang perpetually of 
 
 ‘* Lips that outblush the ruby’s red, 
 With luscious dews of sweetness fed.” 
 
 Even Milton’s stern lyre was tuned to sweetest song about 
 “The vermil-tinctured lip.” 
 
 And Petrarch seems to have found no charm in the divine Laura 
 greater than her “beautiful and angelical mouth.” ~ La bella 
 bocca angelica!” he exclaims. And so Dante found inexpressible 
 delight in the charming mouth of Beatrice, especially when it 
 said “yes.” “Thus,” says he, “it is my remembrance of that 
 mouth of hers which spurs me on ever, since there is nothing 
 which I would not give to hear her say, with a perfect good will, 
 a ‘yes,” Yes, it is the sentiment or emotion that lingers about 
 the mouth that constitutes much of its beauty. A mouth per- 
 petually contracted as though it were about to say no, or curled 
 up with passions of sarcasm and ill-nature, cannot be beautiful, 
 even though its lips were chiseled like Diana’s, and stained with 
 the red of choicest cherries. The mouth, indeed, is scarcely less 
 expressive than the eyes, and therefore woman must not forget 
 that its chief beauty consists in the expression. If a lady is 
 anxious to have her mouth look particularly charming for some 
 particular occasion, she will do well to fill her thoughts with 
 some very delightful subject. And let her not forget that the 
 muscles of the mouth and face are, like the rest of human 
 nature, “creatures of habit;” and long use in the language of 
 
is 
 
 472 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 amiability and happiness gives that expressive organ its greatest 
 charm. An old Persian poet sings to his beloved : 
 “ The language anger prompts I bear; 
 If kind thy speech, I bless my fair; 
 But, is it fit that words of gall 
 From lovely lips, like thine, should fall?” 
 
 Let every woman at once understand that paint can do nothing 
 for the mouth and lips. The advantage gained by the artificial 
 red is a thousand times more than lost by the sure destruction 
 of that delicate charm associated with the idea of “nature’s 
 dewy lip.” There can be no dew ona painted lip. And there 
 is no man who does not shrink back with disgust from the idea 
 of kissing a pair of painted lips. Nor let any woman deceive 
 herself with the idea that the men do not instantly detect paint 
 on the lips. 
 
 Ruby lips are generally the result and the ensign of perfect 
 health. But, still, those who are entirely well do not always 
 enjoy the possession of cherry lips. Where this is the case, the 
 tincture of benzoin, as before described, and which has none of E 
 the properties of paint may be used with beneficial effects. I 
 need not remind the ladies that clean white teeth are indispen- 4 
 sable toa beautiful mouth. The lady who neglects to brush her 
 
 teeth with pure cold water after every meal not only loses the j 
 benefit of the natural whiteness of her teeth, but she renders her- q 
 self liable to have the disgusting evil of an impure breath. The : 
 best tooth-powder I know of is made as follows: 4s 
 Prepared chalk a : ; 6 02, : 
 Cassia powder ; : : 4 oz. 4 
 
 Orris-root : * : 1 04%. 
 
 These should be thoroughly mixed, and used oncea day with 
 a firm brush. 
 
 A simple mixture of charcoal and cream of tartar is an excel- 
 lent tooth-powder. 
 
 Sea ee ee 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 473 
 
 To be sure of a sweet and clean-looking mouth, a lady should 
 take her looking-glass after each meal, and with a fine tooth-pick 
 gently remove the particles of food, or any matter, which may 
 be discovered about the roots of the teeth, or in the interstices. 
 To ensure the great charm of a beautiful mouth requires unre- 
 mitting attention to the health of the teeth and gums. ‘To keep 
 the gums red and firm, frequent friction with the brush will be 
 necessary. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL HAND. 
 
 A beautiful hand performs a great mission in the life of a 
 belle. Indeed, the hand has a language of its own, which is 
 often most intelligible when the tongue and every other part of 
 the human body is compelled to be mute. When timid lovers 
 have never dared to open their mouths to each other, their hands 
 will get together and express all the passion that glows within. 
 Or, often when two lovers are annoyed by the presence of a rigid 
 mother, or guardian, they secretly squeeze each other’s hands, 
 which says, loud enough for their hearts to hear, “ what a pity 
 we are not alone!” And, when parting in the presence of the 
 crowd, how much is said, how much is promised in that gentle 
 pressure of the hands! When a lady lets her fingers softly lin- 
 ger in the palm of a gentleman, what else does it say but, “ you 
 have my heart already.” 
 
 But besides this secret and potent language of the hand, it is 
 a great ornament as a thing of beauty. The great Petrarch 
 confesses that Laura’s “beautiful hand made captive his heart;” 
 and there is no woman who is not conscious of the power she 
 has in the possession of a charming hand. 
 
 The Spanish ladies take, if possible, more pains with their 
 hands than with their faces. There is no end of the tricks to 
 which they resort to render this organ delicate and beautiful. 
 Some of these devices are not only painful, but exceedingly 
 
474 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ridiculous, For instance, I have known some of them to sleep 
 every night with their hands held up to the bed-posts by pulleys, 
 hoping by that means to render them pale and delicate. Both 
 Spanish and French women—those at least who are very partic- 
 ular to make the most of these charms—are in the habit of 
 sleeping in gloves which are lined or plastered over with a kind 
 of pomade to improve the delicacy and complexion of their 
 hands. This paste is generally made of the following ingredi- 
 ents. 
 
 Take half a pound of soft soap, a gill of salad oil, an ounce of 
 mutton tallow, and boil them until they are thoroughly mixed. 
 After the boiling has ceased, but before it is cold, add one gill 
 of spirits of wine, and a grain of musk. 
 
 If any lady wishes to try this she can buy a pair of gloves 
 three or four sizes larger than the hand, rip them open and 
 spread on a thin layer of the paste, and then sew the gloves up 
 again. There is no doubt that by wearing them every night 
 they will give smoothness and a fine complexion to the hands. 
 Those who have the means, can send to Paris and purchase them 
 ready made. But I am not aware that they have been imported — 
 to this country. It will not surprise me, however, to learn that. 
 they have been, for fashionable ladies are remarkably quick at 
 finding out the tricks which the belles elsewhere resort to for 
 the purpose of beautifying themselves. Sleeping in simple white 
 kid gloves will make the skin of the hand white and soft. Of 
 course, no lady who wishes to be particular about her hands, 
 will ever go out into the air without her gloves. 
 
 It requires almost as much labor and attention to keep the 
 hands in order as it does to preserve the beauty of the face; 
 taking care of the nails, alone, is an art which few women under- 
 stand, for eight out of ten of even fashionable ladies always 
 appear with their nails neither tastefully trimmed nor otherwise 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 470 
 
 in good condition. The nail, properly managed, will be smooth, 
 transparent and nearly rose-colored. 
 
 If the hands are inclined to be rough and to chap, the follow- 
 ing wash will remedy the evil. , 
 
 Lemon juice. : : : 3 OZ. 
 White wine vinegar. 3 : 3 OZ. 
 White brandy . ; ; : 4 pint. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL FOOT AND ANKLE. 
 
 When was the time that the poets did not sing of the charms 
 
 of a “nimble foot,” or of 
 **The fairy foot 
 Which shines like snow, and falls on earth as mute.” 
 
 Virgil tells us that, 
 “« By her gentle walk, the queen of love is known,” 
 
 and that “ gentle walk” will rarely, if ever, be found connectea 
 with a heavy and ill-shaped foot and ankle. We know it is nat- 
 ural for the mind to associate every other charm with that of a 
 graceful step. Thus Milton sung— 
 
 “Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eyes, 
 In every gesture dignity and love.” 
 
 The pains which some nations take to ensure a smalt foot 
 amounts to a torture which ought to be called by no other name 
 than the art of deforming. In China, especially, this thing is ° 
 carried to such an extent that the women’s feet are entirely 
 spoiled. In Spain, however, the art is practiced with astonishing 
 success in causing beautifully small feet. I have known ladies 
 there, who were past twenty years of age, to sleep every night 
 with bandages on their feet and ankles drawn as tight as they 
 could be and not stop the circulation. There is nothing that a 
 Spanish beauty is more proud of, than a small and beautiful foot 
 
476 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 and ankle, and nowhere do you find more of those charms than 
 in Spain. 
 
 A great cause of thick ankles among women of the cities, 
 who are fashionably and genteelly brought up, is a want of exer- 
 cise and sitting indolently in over-heated rooms. Such habits are 
 quite sure to produce slight swelling of the ankles, and cause a 
 chronic flabbiness of the muscles. You might as well expect to 
 see a rose-bush spring, bud and bloom, in a closely-pent oven, as 
 to anticipate fine and healthy proportions from a long continu- 
 ance of such habits. Let every lady be assured that there is no 
 part of her body which will suffer more from want of proper 
 exercise than her feet and ankles. 
 
 But woman’s chief art, in making the most out of this portion 
 of her charms, must consist in properly and tastefully dressing 
 them. Let her start with the maxim that she had better wear a 
 bad bonnet, than a bad shoe. Let her believe that an ill-fitting 
 dress will not do so much towards breaking the charm of her 
 beauty in the mind ot a man, as a loose and soiled stocking. 
 
 _ The celebrated Madam Vestris used to have her white satin 
 boots sewed on her feet every morning, in order that they should 
 perfectly fit the exquisite shape of her foot. Of course, they 
 had to be ripped off at night, and the same pair could never be 
 worn but once. 
 
 If a lady has not a naturally beautiful foot, her care is direct- 
 
 ed to the means of preventing attention from being called to it, 
 For this reason she dresses it as neatly, but as soberly as possi- 
 ble. Her hope is in a plain black shoe, and she especially 
 eschews all gay colors, and all ornaments, which would be sure 
 to attract the eye to a spot of which she cannot be proud. 
 Indeed, bright-colored shoes are in bad taste for anybody, except 
 on certain brilliant occasions, where fancy dresses are worn. 
 Above all things, every lady of taste avoids an ornamented 
 stocking. Stocking with open-wove, ornamented insteps, denote 
 
 a fe 
 
TOILET MEDICINES, 477 
 
 a vulgar taste, and, instead of displaying a fine proportion, con- 
 fuse the contour of a pretty foot. But, where the ankle is 
 rather large, or square, a pretty, unobtrusive net clock, of the 
 same color as the stocking, will be a useful device, and induce 
 the beholder to believe in the perfect symmetry of the parts. 
 
 Though a woman is to be fully conscious of the charm of a 
 pretty foot and ankle, yet she must not seem to be so. Nothing 
 will draw the laugh on her so quick as a manifestly designed 
 exhibition of these parts. It is, no doubt, a very difficult thing 
 for a lady who has a fine foot to keep it from creeping forth 
 into sight beneath the dress; but, let her be sure that the charm 
 is gone the moment the beholder detects it. is done designedly. 
 If men are not modest themselves, they will never forgive a 
 woman if she is not. 
 
 Before leaving this subject, I must not forget to speak of the 
 importance to a lady of a genteel and sprightly walk. The 
 practiced eye detects the quality of a woman’s mind and heart 
 in her step. Nor is this an idle fancy, for the reason.that every 
 situation of the soul, every internal movement, has its regular 
 progression, in the external action of the body. We may say, 
 as Seneca makes the wife of Hercules say of Lychas,— 
 
 ‘‘His mind is like his walk.” 
 
 An indistinct, shuffling, irregular, sluggish, and slovenly walk is 
 a tolerably sure sign of corresponding attributes of the soul. 
 There is a remarkable charm in a walk characterized by blended 
 dignity and vivacity. It leaves upon the beholder a lasting 
 impression of those attributes of mind which most surely awakev 
 esteem and admiration. 
 
 Je ae Dea BE BY OL OT. 
 
 One of thé most powerful auxiliaries of beauty is a fine, wel) 
 trained voice. Indeed, one of the most fascinating women J 
 
478 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ever knew had scarcely any other charm to recommend her. She 
 was a young countess in Berlin, who had dull eyes, a rough skin, 
 with dingy complexion, coarse dull hair, and dumpy form. But she 
 had an exquisite voice, which charmed everybody who heard it. 
 Ugly as she was, she was called “the syren,” from the fascinat- 
 ing sweetness of her voice. And with an infallible instinct that 
 she had but a single charm, she had cultivated that until she had 
 brought it to the utmost perfection. Words fell like charmed 
 music from her lips, And then, besides the discipline she had 
 given her voice, she had made herself master of the art of con- 
 versation. In this respect, every woman’s education is sadly 
 neglected. Had I a daughter, the first thing I should teach her, 
 in the way of artificial accomplishments, would be, that to con- 
 verse charmingly is a far greater accomplishment to a lady than 
 music and dancing. A woman who can converse well is always 
 sure to command respect and admiration in any society. By this 
 I, of course, don’t mean a vicious abundance of words, and rapid 
 volubility of tongue, for these are things which my sex some- 
 times too easily acquire. Good conversation does not mean the 
 art of talking, but the art of talking well. How few ladies have 
 it! How few have ever been taught that good talking is as 
 much an art as good singing? How few know that the voice 
 can be as much improved for the art of conversation, as it can 
 for the art of singing? It is the voice, after all, more than 
 
 words, that gives the finest and clearest expression to the pas- — 
 
 sions and sentiments of the soul. The most correct and elegant 
 language loses all its beauty with a bad or ill-trained voice. The 
 exhilaration of mirth, the profound sighs of sadness, the ten- 
 derness of love, the trembling interrupted sobbing of grief, all 
 depend upon the voice for their effect upon the character and 
 the heart. A bad talker is as great a bore as a bad singer or a 
 bad reader. Indeed, to be charming in conversation, implies a 
 perfect knowledge of the rare and difficult art of reading. I call 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 479 
 
 it rare and difficult, not only from the nature of the art itself, 
 but also from the great lack of competent teachers. There are 
 a thousand good teachers of the art of singing, where there is 
 one of the art of reading. The teachers of elocution are gener- 
 ally decayed actors or professors, who are worse than incompe- 
 tent, for they, in nine cases out of ten, get their pupils into 
 pedantic, affected, and unnatural habits, which are a thousand 
 times worse than the natural awkwardness. The best advice I 
 can give a lady on this subject is—unless she knows a teacher 
 who has an exquisite voice and style—to practice herself in read- 
 ing aloud, and training her voice to express thé most happy and 
 delightful ideas by soft and appropriate tones. She may think 
 herself happy if she acquire perfection in this exquisite art by 
 two years of unwearied pains and study. And she may be sure 
 that the accomplishment is cheaply bought at whatever expense. 
 
 BEAUTY OF DEPORTMENT. 
 
 It is essential that every lady should understand that the most 
 beautiful and well dressed woman will fail to be charming unless 
 all her other attractions are set off with a graceful and fascinat- 
 ing deportment. <A pretty face may be seen everywhere, beau- 
 tiful and gorgeous dresses are common enough, but how seldom 
 do we meet with a really beautiful and enchanting demeanor! 
 It was this charm of deportment which suggested to the French 
 cardinal the expression of “the native paradise of angels.” The 
 first thing to be said on the art of deportment is, that what is 
 becoming at one age would be most improper and ridiculous at 
 another. For a young girl, for instance, to sit as grave and 
 stiff as “her grandmother cut in alabaster,” would be ridiculous 
 enough, but not so much so, as for an old woman to assume the 
 romping merriment of girlhood. She would deservedly draw 
 only contempt and laughter upon herself. 
 
AR) WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 Not only woman’s age must be consulted, but her manners 
 ought to harmonize with her shape and size, and the whole con- 
 tour of her style. A deportment which would become a short and 
 thick-set woman would never do for one of a tall and slender 
 figure with a long neck and contracted waist. The woman of 
 larger proportions may safely affect the majestic gait and air; 
 but how absurd it would be for a tall and slender figure to stiffen 
 her joints, throw back her head, and march off with a military 
 air? The character of these light forms corresponds with their 
 resemblances in the vegetable world. The poplar, the willow, 
 and the graceful lily, bend their gentle heads at every passing 
 breeze, and their flexible and tender arms toss in the wind with 
 motions of grace and beauty. Such is the woman of delicate 
 proportions. She must enter a room either with the buoyant 
 step of a young nymph, if youth is her passport to sportiveness; 
 or, if she is advanced nearer the meridian of life, she may glide 
 in with that ease of manner which gives play to all the graceful 
 motions of her undulating form. For her to crane up her neck 
 
 would change its swan-like bend into the scraggy throat of an | 
 
 ostrich. All her movements should be of an easy and flexible 
 character. Her mode of salutation should be rather a bow than 
 a courtesy, and when she sits, she should model her attitude 
 after the style of half-recumbent ease, rather than according to 
 the rules of the boarding-school governesses, who marshal their 
 pupils on their chairs like a file of drilled recruits. The unas- 
 suming, easy, graceful air belongs to the slender beauty, and 
 the moderated, majestic mien to a greater embonpoint 
 
 But the least affectation or exaggeration in either of these 
 styles would only end in bringing the woman into contempt. 
 The only safety is for a lady to be governed by those infallible 
 ideas of moderated taste and delicacy, in which the sweetest 
 charms of modesty are entrenched. 
 
 Indeed, a modest mien always makes a woman charming. 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 481 
 
 Modesty is to woman what the mantle of green is to nature—its 
 ornament and highest beauty. What a miracle-working charm 
 there is in a blush—what softness and majesty in natural sim- 
 plicity, without which pomp is contemptible, and elegance 
 itself ungraceful. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the highest incitement to love is 
 in modesty. So well do wise women of the world know this, 
 that they take infinite pains to learn to wear the semblance of 
 it, with the same tact, and with the same motive, that they 
 array themselves in attractive apparel. They have taken a les- 
 son from Sir John Reynolds, who says “men are like certain 
 animals, who will feed only when there is but little proven- 
 der, and that got at with difficulty through the bars of a rack; 
 but refuse to touch it when there is an abundance before them.” 
 It is certainly important that all women should understand this, 
 and it is no more than fair that they should practice upon it, 
 since men always treat them with disingenuous untruthfulness in 
 this matter. Men may amuse themselves with a noisy, loud- 
 laughing, loquacious girl; it is the quiet, subdued, modest, and 
 seemingly bashful deportment which is the one that stands the 
 fairest chance of carrying off their hearts. 
 
 BEAUTY OF DRESS. 
 
 The great majority of my sex understand the art of dress no 
 further than that “fine feathers make fine birds;” and hence the 
 women dress more or less in bad taste. Washington Irving says, 
 “in all ages the gentle sex have shown a disposition to infringe 
 a little upon the laws of decorum, in order to betray a lurking 
 beauty, or an innocent love of finery.” 
 
 This is certainly stating the thing very modestly; but, seeing 
 Mr. Irving is a bachelor, it is perhaps going as far as he has any 
 
 right to do in Be direction. It is the “love of finery,” however, 
 
489 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 which is the great source of the corruption of female taste in 
 dress. It is this which loads “ the lovely form of woman ” with- 
 out adorning it. 
 
 The first thing to be done in instructing a woman to dress 
 well, is to impress upon her that profusion is not grace. A lady 
 may empty a merchant’s counter upon her person, and yet pro- 
 duce no other effect than to give herself the appearance of a 
 porter’s baggage-wagon, loaded with all manner of trinkets. 
 
 A lady who dresses in such a manner as to attract attention to 
 her dress is always badly dressed. A well-chosen dress so har- 
 monizes with the figure and the general natural style of the lady 
 as to leave the dress itself measurably unobserved. The object 
 of dress should be to show off an elegant woman, and not an ele- 
 gantly dressed woman. And therefore, in simplicity, and a cer- 
 tain adaptation to your figure and complexion, all the secret of 
 good dressing lies. 
 
 But as beauty of form and complexion varies in different 
 women, and is still more various in different ages, so the styles 
 in dress should assume characters corresponding with all these 
 circumstances. Woman may take a lesson on dress from the 
 garments which nature puts on at the various seasons of the 
 year. In the spring of youth, when all is lovely and gay, and 
 the soft green, sparkling in freshness, bedecks the earth, 
 the light and transparent robes, of brilliant colors, may 
 adorn “the limbs of beauty.” Especially if the maid possess 
 the airy form of Hebe, a light flowing drapery is best suited to 
 show the loveliness of her charms. This simple garb leaves to 
 beauty all her empire. Let no furbelows, no heavy ornaments, 
 load the figure, or distract the attention in its admiration of the 
 lovely outlines. 
 
 The young woman of graver mien and more majestic form 
 should select her apparel with reference to her different style of 
 
 beauty. Her robes should always be long, and more ample than ~ % 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 483 
 
 those of her gayer sister. Their substance should be thicker and 
 of a more sober color. White is considered becoming to all 
 characters; but when colors are to be worn, the lady of majestic 
 style should choose the fuller shades of purple, crimson, scarlet, 
 or black. 
 
 The best school to teach a woman taste in dress is the Panthe- 
 on of ancient Rome. First, behold the lovely Hebe; her robes 
 are like the air, her motion is on the zephyr’s wing. That may 
 be woman’s style until she is twenty. ‘Then comes the beautiful 
 Diana. The chaste dignity of womanhood and intelligence per- 
 vades the whole form, and the very drapery which enfolds it, 
 harmonizes with the modest elegance, the buoyant strength of 
 ripened health, which give elasticity and grace to every limb. 
 That is woman from twenty to thirty. Then comes Juno, or 
 Minerva, standing forth in the combined power of beauty and 
 wisdom. ‘At this period she gradually lays aside the flowers 
 of youth, and arrays herself in the majesty of. sobriety, or in the 
 
 sober beauty of simplicity. Long ought to be the reign of this 
 - commanding epoch of woman’s age, for from thirty to fifty she 
 may most respectably maintain her station on the throne of 
 matron excellence,” and still be lawfully admired as a beautiful 
 woman. But beyond this age, it becomes her to lay aside all 
 such pretensions, and, by her “mantle of grey,” gravefully 
 acknowledge her entrance into the “vale of years.” What can 
 be more disgusting than a painted and bepowdered old woman, 
 just “trembling on the brink of the grave, and yet a candidate 
 for the flattery of men?” 
 
 Not only is it true that there is a propriety in adapting a lady’s 
 dress to the different seasons of her life, and the peculiar char- 
 acter of her figure, but there is a very great propriety in adapt- 
 ing the costliness of her dress to her pecuniary position in life. 
 I know that in America all artificial distinctions of classes are 
 happily laid aside; but the necessities which attach to pecuniary 
 
484 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 disabilities are not, and never can be overcome. ‘Though it may 
 
 be the right of every woman to dress as expensively as she can 
 afford, yet is it good taste, is it consistent with her own self- 
 respect, for the wife, or the daughter of a poor man to dress 
 expensively, and imitate all the wasteful extravagances of the 
 rich? Let every such woman be forewarned that she cannot do it 
 without drawing upon herself the inevitable suspicion that must 
 cause a husband and a father to blush, even though the purple 
 tinge never visits her own cheek. Though she may be innocent, 
 it is still bad taste to affect expenditures beyond her known 
 means or income. There is a fitness, and an inexpressible 
 charm, in the sight of a woman who adapts her neat and modest. 
 attire to the-circumstances of her life. a 
 
 BEAUTY OF ORNAMENTS. 
 
 On this subject, the rule is, as laid down by a time-honored 
 maxim, that “beauty unadorned, is adorned the most.” As a 
 general remark, we may say, that to a beautiful woman, orna- 
 ments are unnecessary, and to one who is not beautiful, they are 
 unavailing. But still, as gems and ornaments are handsome in 
 themselves, a beautiful young woman, “if she chooses to share 
 her empire with the jeweler and florist, may, not inelegantly, 
 decorate her neck, arms, and head with something like a string 
 
 of pearls and a band of flowers.” 
 
 A young lady, however, of fair complexion, and slender figure ~ 
 
 can find no adornment in gems, as they are too heavy for her 
 style of beauty. Her ornaments can rarely exceed the natural or 
 artificial flowers of the most delicate kind—such as the violet, 
 the snow-drop, the myrtle, the primrose, or the lily of the valley. 
 The garments of ayoung beauty of this style should be of white, 
 or. of the most tender shades of ‘green, pink, blue and lilac. 
 These, when judiciously selected, or mingled, array the graceful 
 
 S 
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TOILET MEDICINES. 485 | 
 
 wearer like another Iris, “ breathing youth and loveliness.” As 
 a general thing, all ornaments detract from the exceeding charms 
 of such beauty. 
 
 All ornaments for the head are, to say the least, a dangerous 
 experiment. If a lady’s hair is very beautiful and abundant, it 
 will be difficult to select an ornament that can add anything to 
 its charms; and if it is coarse and harsh, and of a bad color, she 
 surely will not commit the blunder of attracting attention to it 
 by gems and ornaments. So, if her neck and bosom be of a 
 pearly whiteness, and fashioned after “ nature’s most enchanting 
 mould,” what ornament can add to their fascination? And if they 
 are naturally dingy and brown, and lack the delicate outline of 
 symmetrical beauty, why should she needlessly attract attention 
 to her deformity by a sparkling necklace, or a string of pearls! 
 
 So, too, of her hands; if the fingers are long and bony, or lack 
 the delicate taper and “‘pearl-tipped nails,” why will she attract 
 all eyes to her misfortune, with the glitter of rings and diamonds? 
 A single diamond on a beautiful hand, or some light and rich 
 bracelet on an arm which is charming enough to bear constant 
 inspection, may not be inappropriate; but a profusion of these 
 ornaments is always in bad taste, and a sure sign of vulgarity, 
 or of deficient education. 
 
 IMPORTANCE OF HAIR AS AN ORNAMENT. 
 
 Without a fine head of hair no woman can be really beautiful. 
 A combination of perfect features, united in one person, would 
 all go for naught without that crowning excellence of beautiful 
 hair. Take the handsomest woman that ever lived—one with the 
 finest eyes, a perfect nose, and expanding forehead, a charming 
 face, and pair of lips that beat the ripest and reddest cherries of 
 summer—and shave her head, and what a fright would she be! 
 ‘The dogs would bark at, and run from her in the street. 
 
486 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 We ought, then, to be constantly impressed with the import- 
 ance of hair as a chief ornament in beauty. It is every person’s 
 business to be informed of the means of developing and presery- 
 ing a luxurious growth of this handmaid of human charms. 
 
 And it is in the power of almost every person to have a good 
 head of hair. But, by many, such a gift can be enjoyed only 
 by great pains and constant attention to the laws of its growth 
 and preservation. Hair left to take care of itself will revenge 
 itself by making its possessor either common looking, or a mon- 
 ster of ugliness. Let the woman who is ambitious to be beauti- 
 ful not forget this. 
 
 HOW TO OBTAIN A GOOD HEAD OF HAIR, 
 
 The foundation of a good head of hair ought undoubtedly to 
 be laid in infancy. At this tender age, and through all the 
 
 years of childhood, it should be worn short, be frequently cut, 
 
 and never allowed to go a day without a thorough brushing. It 
 should also, every morning, be washed at the roots with cold 
 water. A damp sponge, rubbed thoroughly upon the scalp, will 
 be sufficient. The practice of combing the heads of children too 
 
 frequently with a fine tooth comb is a bad one, as the points of - 
 
 the teeth are quite sure to scratch and irritate the scalp, and are 
 almost sure to produce scurf or dandruff. Indeed, these rules, 
 except as to the length of the hair, are quiteas applicable to 
 adults as children. The ladies of my acquaintance, who have 
 been most,celebrated for the beauty of their hair, usually made 
 a practice of thoroughly cleansing its roots every morning with 
 the damp sponge. Nor would they venture to neglect the fre- 
 quent use of the brush. Indeed, the coarsest, most refractory, 
 and snarly locks can be subdued, and made comparatively soft 
 and glossy by the use of the brush alone. Constant brushing is 
 
 the first rule to subdue coarse and brittle hair. And the morn- | 
 
 4 
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 4 
 
 a ae a a # 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 487 
 
 ing is the best time for an extended application of the brush, 
 because the hair is naturally more supple then than at any other 
 time. This practice, thoroughly persevered in, will gradually 
 tame down the porcupine head, unless there is some scurfy dis- 
 ease of the scalp, in which case the following wash will be 
 found a quite sure remedy :— 
 
 Salts of tartar . : : 3 drachms, 
 Tincture of cantharides . ‘ 15 drops. 
 Spirits of camphor ; : 15 drops. 
 Lemon juice , - : 4 pint. 
 
 In preparing this wash, the salts should be dissolved in the 
 lemon juice, till the effervescence ceases, and then add the other 
 ingredients; and, after letting the whole remain exposed to the 
 air for half an hour, it may be perfumed ‘and bottled for use. 
 This is one of the best and most harmless washes for the hair 1 
 have ever known. I am certain that a lady or gentleman has 
 but to try it to be convinced of its efficacy. But let me impress 
 upon you the importance of brushing as a cardinal means of 
 beautifying the hair. Brush not one minute, but ten—not once a 
 day, but two, or three, or four times a day. 
 
 Two brushes are indispensable forthe toilet-—one for the rough 
 use of cleaning the hair, and the otherfor polishing it. A black 
 brush should be used for the former, and a white one for the 
 latter. Ladies need not be told that washing spoils brushes. The 
 way to clean them is to rub them thoroughly with bran, which 
 removes all the grease, and leaves the bristles stiff and firm as 
 ever. When the bristles of a brush become too limber for use, 
 they may be hardened again by dipping them in one part of 
 spirits of ammonia, and two of water. This will also thoroughly 
 cleanse them from all greasy substances. 
 
 TO PREVENT THE HAIR FROM FALLING OFF. 
 
 A remedy for weak and falling hair has been sought for by 
 
488 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 beautiful women, and by men too, with as much avidity as ever 
 the mad enthusiast sought for the philosopher’s stone. I have 
 known ladies who did nothing but to hunt recipes for baldness. 
 The knowledge of all their friends, especially if they were phy- 
 sicians, was laid under perpetual contribution for light on the 
 great subject of hair. I knew an old countess in Paris—or who 
 was at least fearfully growing old—who became really a mono- 
 maniac on this subject; she used to rattle on about the “ bulbs of 
 the hair,” the “apex of the hair,” and talk as learnedly as a 
 whole college of doctors of the various theories of the nature of 
 thé disease and the remedy. Some quack had recommended her 
 to use caustic alkalies of soda or potash—which by the way I 
 have known to be advised by physicians who ought to know 
 better—which completely did the business for her head, for 
 they not only destroyed the reproductive power, but also the 
 color of what hair they left upon her head. So that this unhappy 
 countess was not only hopelessly gray, but she was growing 
 balder day by day, notwithstanding half a bushel of recipes 
 which she had wrung from the skill of a hundred doctors. 
 
 It is well known that Baron Dupuytren obtained a world-wide 
 fame for a pomade which actually overcame the evil of baldness 
 in thousands of cases where it was applied. A celebrated physi- 
 cian in London gave to an intimate friend of mine the following 
 recipe, which he assured her was really the famous pomade of 
 Baron Dupuytren. My friend found such advantage in its use, 
 that I was induced to copy it, and add it to my cabinet of curious 
 recipes. 
 
 Boxwood shavings . ; ; 6 oz. 
 — Proof spirit . ; ‘ : 12 oz. 
 Spirits of rosemary . ; : 2 02. 
 Spirits of nutmegs . ¢ 7 $ 02. 
 
 The boxwood shavings should be left to steep in the spirits, 
 at a temperature of 60 degrees for fourteen days, and then the 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 489 
 
 fiquid should be strained off, and the other ingredients mixed. 
 The scalp to be thoroughly washed, or rubbed with this every 
 night and morning. 
 
 TO PREVENT THE HAIR FROM TURNING GRAY. 
 
 No woman must rely on compounds and powders to prevent 
 ther hair from turning gray. Temperance, moderation in all 
 things, and frequent washings with pure cold water, are the best 
 recipes I can give her to prevent her hair from becoming prema- 
 turely gray. It is certain that perpetual care, great anxiety, or 
 prolonged -grief will hasten white hairs. History has made us 
 familiar with instances where sudden passion, or grief, or fright, 
 have turned the head instantly gray. Sickness, we know, often 
 does it. But, so far as I know, physiologists have failed to 
 explain the reason of this change. We know that the hair is a 
 hollow tube, containing a fluid which gives it its color—that red 
 hair is occasioned by a red fluid, and so all the varieties of color 
 are owing to the variety of the color of this fluid. Nothing, 
 therefore can prevent the hair from turning white but the 
 avoidance of all the causes which produce premature old age, or 
 occasion local obstruction and disease of the hair itself. I have 
 reason to believe that the injudicious use of the curling-irons, 
 long kept up, will hasten this disease. The unnatural heat 
 destroys the animal nature of the hair, and is liable to produce 
 a disease of its coloring fluid. 
 
 An old and retired actress with whom I had met at Gibraltar, 
 and who had a fine head of hair, far better preserved than the 
 rest of her charms, was confident that she had warded off the 
 approach of gray hair by using the following preparation when- 
 ever she dressed her head: 
 
 Oxide of bismuth . - ‘ 4 drs. 
 Spermaceti . ; ‘ : 4 drs. 
 Pure hog’s lard. ; , 4 02. 
 
490 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 The lard and spermaceti should be melted together, and whem 
 they begin to cool, stir in the bismuth. It may be perfumed to: 
 your liking. 
 
 HOW TO SOFTEN AND BEAUTIFY THE HAIR. 
 
 There is no greater mistake than the profuse use of greases for’ 
 the purpose of softening the hair. They obstruct the pores, the: 
 free action of which is so necessary for the health of the hair.. 
 No substance should be employed which cannot be readily: 
 
 ‘absorbed by the vessels. These preparations make the hair dry 
 and harsh, unless perpetually loaded with an offensive and dis- 
 gusting amount of grease. 
 
 There was a celebrated beauty at Munich who had one of the 
 handsomest heads of hair I ever beheld, and she used regularly 
 to wash her head every morning with the following: 
 
 Beat up the white of four eggs into a froth, and rub that thor- 
 oughly in close to the roots of the hair. Leave it to dry on. 
 Then wash the head and hair clean with a mixture of equal parts 
 of rum and rose-water. 
 
 This will be found one of the best cleansers and brighteners of 
 the hair that was ever used. 
 
 There is a celebrated wash called “ Honey Water,” known to 
 fashionable ladies all over Europe, which is made as follows: 
 
 Essence of Ambergris . . 4 pee a | 
 Musk : : : pb eas 
 ere: Bergamot . : : 0 Stee. 
 Oil of Cloves , é : : . 15 drops. 
 Orange-flower water . . ; . 4°02. 
 Spirits of wine . : “% ; . 5 02, 
 Distilled water . : 4 : . 402. 
 
 All these ingredients should be mixed together, and left about 
 fourteen days; then the whole to be filtered through porous paper 
 and bottled for use. 
 
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TOILET MEDICINES. 491 
 
 This is a good hair-wash and an excellent perfume. 
 
 But let the man or woman who is ambitious to have handsome: 
 hair, forget not that frequent and thorough brushing is worth 
 all the oils and pomades that were ever invented. 
 
 TO REMOVE SUPERFLUOUS HAIR. 
 
 It sometimes happens that feminine beauty is a little marred. 
 by an unfeminine growth of hairon the upper lip, or on the neck. 
 and arms, and sometimes on the chin. I have known several. 
 unfortunate ladies to produce ulcers and dangerous sores by 
 compounds which they used for the purpose of removing these: 
 blemishes. Caustic preparations of lime, arsenic, and potash 
 have been used for this purpose, with the above results. 
 
 But the following safe method has been used with perfect. 
 success: 
 
 Spread on a piece of leather, equal parts of galbanum and pitch 
 plaster, and lay it on the culprit hairs as smoothly as possible, 
 and then, after letting it remain about three minutes, pull it off 
 suddenly, and it will be quite sure to bring out the hair by the 
 roots, and they will not grow again. The pain of this operation 
 is much less than the cauterizing remedy, and is, besides, more: 
 successful. I have seen poor victims sit all day pulling these: 
 aggressive hairs with tweezers, which is a fruitless task, for they 
 almost invariably break off the hair at the neck, instead of pull- 
 ing it out by the roots. But the most ridiculous mistake which 
 women make in this business is removing the superfluous hair 
 with a razor, for that promotes the unnatural growth, and, even 
 though the shaving were done every day, the blue or black roots. 
 of the hair show further than the hair itself. 
 
 HOW TO COLOR GRAY HAIR. 
 
 A great many compounds, which are of a character most des- 
 tructive to the hair, are sold in the shape of hair-dyes, against- 
 
492 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 ‘which ladies cannot be too frequently warned. These, for the 
 most part, are composed of such things as poisonous mineral 
 acids, nitrate and oxide of silver, caustic alkalies, limes lith- 
 arge and arsenic. The way these color the hair is simply by 
 burning it, and they are very liable to produce a disease of the 
 hair which increases ten-fold the speed of growing gray. 
 
 An old physician and chemist at Lisbon gave a charming Par- 
 isian lady of my acquaintance, whose hair was turning gray, on 
 one side of her head, after a severe sickness, a recipe for a hair- 
 . dye, which proved to be of astonishing efficacy in coloring the 
 faded hair a beautiful and natural black. The following is the 
 recipe for making it. 
 
 Gallic acid . ‘ ; ‘ 10 grs. 
 
 Acetic acid . : : ‘ 1 02. 
 Tincutre of sesqui-chloride of iron 1 02. 
 
 Dissolve the gallic acid in the tincture of sesqui-chloride of iron, 
 and then add the acetic acid. Before using this preparation, the 
 hair should be thoroughly washed with soap and water. A great 
 and desirable peculiarity of this dye, is, that it can be so applied 
 as to color the hair either black or the lighter shade of brown. 
 If black is the color desired, the preparation should be applied 
 while the hair is moist, and for brown it should not be used till 
 the hair is perfectly dry. The way to apply the compound is to 
 dip the points of a fine tooth comb into it until the interstices 
 are filled with the fluid, then gently draw the comb through the 
 ‘hair, commencing at the roots, till the dye has perceptibly taken 
 effect. When the hair is entirely dry, oil and brush it as usual. 
 
 HABITS WHICH DESTROY BEAUTIFUL HAIR. 
 
 The habit of frequently shampooing the hair, or washing it 
 ‘with soap and water, is destructive toits beauty. Soap, if often 
 used, will be likely to change the color of the hair to a faded 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 493: 
 
 yellowish hue, even if it does not produce a greater misfortune. 
 The best way to remove dust, or the effects of an indiscreet use 
 of oils or pomades from the hair, is to give it a thorough brush- 
 ing. Or asmall quantity of white soap may be dissolved in 
 spirits of wine, and used without deleterious effects. But, by all 
 means, shun strong soap, and such alkaline lyes as are used in. 
 shampooing; for these lyes are capable of dissolving the hair if 
 long left in them, and their use is invariably deleterious. | 
 
 Washing the hair even with cold water and leaving it to dry 
 in curls, as is the custom of some, after the example of Lord 
 Byron, renders it harsh and coarse. Whenever the hair is washed 
 it should be thoroughly dried with towels, and then be well 
 brushed. 
 
 BLEMISHES TO BEAUTY. 
 
 There are a great many accidental blemishes to beauty, such: 
 as pimples, black specks, freckles, tan, and yellow spots, which 
 may be removed by proper remedies faithfully applied. 
 
 To Remove Pimples.—There are many kinds of pimples, some 
 of which partake almost of the nature of ulcers, which require 
 medical treatment; but the small red pimple, which is most com- 
 mon, may be removed by applying the following twice a day: 
 
 Sulphur water : ; : 1 oz. 
 Acetated liquor of ammonia ; . $02. 
 Liquor of potassa  . ; : ter: 
 White wine vinegar . 7 - 2 04. 
 Distilled water ; : ; 2 OZ. 
 
 These pimples are sometimes cured by frequent washing in 
 warm water, and prolonged friction with a coarse towel. The 
 cause of these pimples is obstruction of the skin, and imperfect: 
 circulation. 
 
 To Remove Black Specks or “ Fleshworms.”—Sometimes little 
 black specks appear about the base of the nose, or on the fore- 
 
A494 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
 head, or in the hollow of the chin, which are called “ fleshworms,” 
 and are occasioned by coagulated lymph that obstructs the pores 
 of the skin. They may be squeezed out by pressing the skin, 
 and ignorant people suppose them to be little worms. They are 
 permanently removed by washing with warm water, and severe 
 friction with a towel, and then applying a little of the following 
 preparation: 
 
 Liquor of potassa ; ; Broz, 
 Cologne . ; ; : ee es 
 White brandy . : ; - 402, 
 
 The warm water and friction alone are sometimes sufficient. 
 
 To Remove Freckles.—The most celebrated compound ever 
 used for the removal of freckles, was called ‘‘ Unction de Main- 
 tenon,” after the celebrated Madame de Maintenon. It is made 
 .as follows: 
 
 Venice soap . : ‘, os 1 oz. 
 Lemon juice . 5 : 4 OZ. 
 Oil of bitter almonds. ae * + 02. 
 Deliquidated oil of tartar .  . t OZ. 
 Oilofrhodium .. ; ; 3 drops. 
 
 First dissolve the soap in the lemon juice, then add the two 
 ils, and place the whole in the sun till it acquires the consist- 
 ence of ointment, and then add the oil of rhodium. Anoint the 
 freckly face at night with this unction, and wash in the morning 
 with pure water, or, if convenient, with a mixture of elder-flower 
 and rose-water. 
 
 To Remove Tan.—An excellent wash to remove tan is called 
 “‘Créme de l’Enclos,” and is thus made: 
 
 Newmilk . ; : a + pint. 
 Lemon juice . ‘ : ‘ 4 02. 
 White brandy : < ; 4 OZ. 
 
 Boil the whole and skim it clear from all scum. Use it night 
 and morning. 
 
TOILET MEDICINES. 495 
 
 A famous preparation with the Spanish ladies for removing 
 the effects of the sun and making the complexion bright, is com- 
 posed simply of equal parts of lemon juice and the white of 
 eggs. ‘The whole is beat together in a varnished earthen pot, 
 and set over a slow fire, and stirred with a wooden spoon till it 
 acquires the consistence of soft pomatum. This compound is 
 called “ Pommade de Seville.” If the face is well washed with 
 rice-water before it is applied, it will remove freckles, and give 
 a fine lustre to the complexion. 
 
 To Cure Chapped Lips.—A certain cure for chapped lips, 
 used by the French ladies, is called “Beaume 4 1’ Antique,” and 
 ‘Is thus made: 
 
 Oil of roses . 4 F 5 4 OZ, 
 White wax . A A : 1 oz. 
 Spermaceti . ; ‘ : 4 OZ. 
 
 ‘They should be melted in a glass vessel, and stirred with a 
 wooden spoon till thoroughly mixed, and then poured into a 
 glass or china cup for use. 
 
 To Remove Yellow Spots.—Sometimes yellow spots of various 
 ‘sizes appear under the skin of the neck and face, and prove the 
 most annoying blemishes to beauty. I have known them to be 
 effectually removed by rubbing them with the flower of sulphur 
 until they disappeared. The following wash is also a safe 
 ‘remedy: 
 
 Strong sulphur water . , os Os 
 Lemon juice : ; : soil Oe! 
 Cinnamon water 2 : in 2; Ore. 
 
 Wash with this three or four times a day. Sometimes these 
 ‘spots indicate a difficulty in the stomach which may require 
 medical advice. 
 
 To Remove and Prevent Wrinkles.—There is a curious recipe 
 walled “ Aura and Cephalus,” which is of Grecian origin, as its 
 
496 WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO. 
 
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 name would indicate, and is said to have been most efficacious im 
 removing and preventing premature wrinkles from the faces of 
 the Athenian ladies. . 
 
 Put some powder of best myrrh upon an iron plate, sufficiently — 
 heated to melt the gum gently, and when it liquefies, cover your 
 head with a napkin, and hold your face over the myrrh at a. 
 proper distance to receive the fumes without inconvenience, I 
 will observe, however, that if this experiment produces any 
 symptoms of headache, it better be discontinued at once. 
 
 But an easy and natural way of warding off wrinkles is fre- 
 quent ablution, followed by prolonged friction with a dry nap- 
 kin. If a lady is a little advanced towards the period when 
 wrinkles are naturally expected to make their appearanee, she: 
 should use tepid water instead of cold, in her ablutions. 
 
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