Trials and Confessions of a HousekeeperArthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
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Trials and Confessions of a Housekeeper
Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
Home economics -- Fiction; Housekeeping -- Fiction; Housewives -- Fiction
But the third, an inveterate little romp, unconscious of shame, is
curveting about in the most abandoned manner, utterly indifferent to
the fact she has--not, indeed, "a rag to her back"--for she is _all_
rags! One hour's play before my descent has utterly abolished all
traces of my industry, so far as she is concerned.
I expostulate--at first more in sorrow than in anger--but as Mr.
Smith's face expands into a broad laugh, it becomes more anger than
sorrow. The child on the stool looks as if she would laugh, if she
_dared_. Lifting her up suddenly, I discover that the whole front
breadth of her frock is burned--past redemption.
I say nothing--what _can_ I say? I have not words equal to the
emergency. And the boy--boys _are_ such copies of their fathers! He
actually forgets all embarrassment, and breaks out into a hearty
laugh. I jerk him forward.
Horror on horrors! The unveiling of the Bavarian statue, of which I
read an account in the newspapers the other day, is nothing to it.
The jamb, it appears, has supported something besides the mantle
shelf; for when I draw the young Smith forward, deprived of the
friendly aid of the wall, his teguments drop to the floor, and _he_
stands unveiled! One fell swoop at rude play has destroyed all my
little innumerable stitches; and I am just where I was before I
threaded a needle the night before!
Now I appeal to any body--any woman with the least experience, if
this is not all _too bad_! And yet my husband insists that I have no
need to be continually worrying myself with the needle. It _is_ true
that each of the children has four or five changes of clothes, which
they might wear--but what is the use of their having things to "put
right on--and tear right out!" I like to be prudent and saving. It
was only the other day that Mr. Smith came in early, and found me
busy; and commenced a regular oration. He said that every child in
the house has a better wardrobe than he; and so he went on, and
counted all off to me. He says--and men think they know _so
much_--that if children have clothes they should wear them; and when
they are worn out, provide more, and not try to keep as many
half-worn suits in repair, as there are new suits in a queen's
wardrobe. But he likes, as well as any man, to see his children look
neat, whatever he may say. And yet he pretends that children should
have clothes so made that they can convert themselves into horses,
and treat each other to rides without rending to pieces! And he
protests that it is all nonsense to undertake to keep children
dressed in the fashion! Truly I am tempted to say to the men as Job
did to his friends: "No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom
shall die with you!"
Such plagues as they are sometimes! But I could not help laughing
after all, when, as I said before, he was lecturing me. The table
was covered with work, done and in progress. He went on till out of
breath. I answered:
"Now you know the children have not a rag to their backs!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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