People of the Whirlpool: From The Experience Book of a Commuter's WifeWright, Mabel Osgood
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People of the Whirlpool: From The Experience Book of a Commuter's Wife
Wright, Mabel Osgood
Diary fiction; Epistolary fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
All winter I have noticed that great local interest has been taken in the
fashion journals that treat of house decoration and etiquette, and on one
occasion, when making a call at one of our most comfortable farms, I
found the worthy Deacon's wife poring over an ornamental volume, entitled
"Hints to those about to enter Society."
After she had welcomed me and asked me to "lay off" my things, she
hesitated a moment, and then, opening the book where her fat finger was
keeping the place, she laid it on my lap, saying in a whisper: "Would you
tell me if that is true, Mrs. Evan? Lurella says you hobnob some with the
Bluff folks, and I wanted to make sure before we break it to pa."
The sentence to which she pointed read, "No gentleman will ever come
to the table without a collar, or be seen on porch or street in his
shirt sleeves." Here, indeed, was a difficulty and a difference. How
should I explain?
I compromised feebly and advised her not to worry the Deacon about what
the Bluff people did or the book said, for it need not apply to the Cross
Roads farmers.
"I'm reel glad you don't hold it necessary fer pa," she said with a sigh
of relief; "he'd take it so hard, eatin' gettin' him all het up anyhow.
Now between ourselves, Mrs. Evan, don't you think writ out manners is
terrible confusin' and contradictin'? I wouldn't hev Lurella hear me say
so, she's so set on keepin' up with things, but she's over to town this
afternoon.
"I've been readin' for myself some, and observin' too. The Bluff folks
that plays grass hockey, all over what was Bijah Woods's farm, men and
girls both, has their sleeves pushed up as if they were going at a day's
wash, and their collars open and hanging to the hind button, which to my
mind looks shiftlesser than doin' without. I do hear also that those same
girls when they git in to dinner takes off their waists altogether and
sets down to eat all stripped off to a scrap of an underbody. That's
true, for pa saw it when he was takin' cream over to Ponsonby's; the
windows was open on the piazza, and he couldn't refrain from peekin',
though I hope you'll not repeat. Of course they may feel dreadful sweaty
after chasin' round in the sun all day, though I wouldn't hold such
sudden coolin' wholesome; but why if women so doin' should they insist on
men folks wearin' collars, say I?"
I told the dear soul that I had never quite been able to understand the
_reason why_ of many of these things, and that my ways were also quite
different from those of the Bluff people; for though father and Evan had
been brought up to wear collars, I had never yet stripped to my underbody
at dinner time.
Thus emboldened, she beckoned me mysteriously toward the best parlour,
saying as she went, "Lurella seen the picture of a Turkey room in the
pattern book, and as she's goin' to have a social this spring, she's
fixed a corner of it into our north room."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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