Miss America; pen and camera sketches of the American girlBlack, Alexander
General
Miss America; pen and camera sketches of the American girl
Black, Alexander
Women -- United States; Women -- United States -- Social conditions
We have seen her bidding good-bye to the schoolma’am at a time when any
education was good enough for a girl,--good enough not only because
neither the kitchen nor the drawing-room exacted Greek, but because
heavier pabulum would utterly ruin her mental digestion; and we have
seen her at a later time when no education is too good for her, bidding
good-bye to an army of instructors at commencement time, radiant in her
cap and gown, the class song ringing pleasantly in her ears, the breath
of June in her life, with a crisp diploma to symbolize her triumphs.
In fact, we have seen the morality of educating her dismissed as a
settled question, and the matter of the quantity and quality left to
the perhaps not easy but at least final arbitrament of her individual
capacity.
[Illustration]
We have seen her yield up to strenuous and inventive man, one by one,
various and many offices once regarded as essentially domestic, and
even as bounding that debatable domain, her “sphere”; we have seen
the spinning wheel go into the garret and come down again years later,
pertly polished, with pink ribbons on the distaff and spindle; we have
seen the superseded milkmaid gathering bottled cream at the basement
door, the superseded seamstress wearing a man-made jacket; and all
without audible murmur at the displacement.
[Illustration]
We have seen the trained nurse succeed Sairy Gamp, many nostrums
disappearing gratefully in the transformation, and have found in
the new sisterhood of bedside saints a cheering sign of a finer
civilization, a prophecy of the future of medicine. We have seen the
amanuensis penning “Paradise Lost” and law briefs and grave history and
exhausting letters--the amanuensis celebrated in sentimental fiction
and unsentimental commerce, fulfil the promise of her own invaluable
service in the modern typewriter, whose little white fingers help move
the lever of the great mercantile machine, without whom modern trade
could scarcely stir, and whose taking away would rob all business life
of an inestimably sweetening influence.
We have seen her needle placed in the jaws of a machine, and have
seen her yoked with men in service to this iron master. We have
seen her leave the fireside armchair to climb the tall stool of
the counting-room and the railway station. We have seen the bodkin
displaced by the scalpel, the lace cap by the mortar-board, the apron
by the vestment. We have seen her emerge from the shadows of the
sanctuary to speak in the councils of the elders, we have seen her
hurry the breakfast dishes to go and vote.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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