The Council Bluffs nonpareil. [volume] (Council Bluffs [Iowa]) 1857-1867, 1858-05-22
VoI LIMO L. WHOLE NO. 56 sssaar I s@5 7s.9i s
From Chamhers' Miscellany.
THE wAsHER- WOMAN OF PARIS.

From Chamhers' Miscellany.
THE EWASHEK-WONaAN OF PARIS.
Every nation possesses preiudices respect.
ing its neighbors. A prejudice Is an opinion
formed without having IN the first place &c.
quired a sufficient bola Of facts whereou to
form correct judgments The French en-
terta,n some 20, strange prejudioes respecting
the English; they consider them to be gen.
orally coarse, overbearing, money making,
and sensual people, without taste or dilecacy
Of feeling. The English, with equal injus-
tice and ignorance of facts, are in the habit
OF considering the French, universally, to be
silly, frivilous and deceitful, with the addi-
tional misfortune Of being very poor and
very idle. Anxious to correct all such
wrong Impressions, which tend to foster
national animosities, we shall tell . little
story respecting young French woman,
whose character for industry, good sense,
and benevolence, whilst no way singular in
her own country. could not be excelled in
ours.
The name of our humble heroine was
Blanche Raymond, and her occupation was
that of o washer-woman in one Of the large
barges which are moored, for the conven-
ience Of her claso, within the margin Of the
Seine. At the boats Of this kind, all the
laundry washing of Paris is performed
the clear water of the river as it runs past,
with piece Of soap, and mallet to beat
the clothes, being the sole means Of purif-
cation. The labor is considerable, and the
payment small, yet no women are more
cheerful than these laundresses. Exposed
at all seasons to perpetual damp, which
saturates their garments, and prematurely
stiffens their limbs, they still preserve their
national vivacity, which finds vent in many
song; and, in spirit of cordial friendship,
sympathise with each other in prosperity Or
adversely. Earning on an average little
more than two francs, or twenty pence daily,
they nevertheless agree to set aside rather
more than two pence out of that sum to-
wards fund for unseen calamities, and,
above all, to prevent any of their number,
who may be laid aside by illness, from being
reduced to seek other relief. The greater
part Of them are married women with fami-
lies.
Unromantic as is the occupation of these
women, yet incidents often occur among
them, as in every other class of society,
however humble, of the most interesting and
pathetic kind. This was we'll illustrated in
the life of our heroine, Blanche Raymond.
Blanche was no more than twenty three
years of age, endowed with fine, open,
smiling countenance, great strength of body,
and uncommon cleverness of hand. She
had lost her mother some time before, and
being now the only stay of her old blind
father, superanuated laborer on the quay,
she had to work double-tides for their Joint
support; though the old man, by earning a
few pence daily by weaving nets, was saved
the feeling of being altogether burden on
his child.
There was q nobleness in Blanche's con-
duct toward her poor old father, that mount
ed like brilliant star above the ordinary
circumstances of her condition. After pre-
pairing her fathers breakfast, at the lodg-
ings opposite the stairs in the quay leading
O'Clock every morning, came home at noon
to give the poor blind man his dinner, and
then back to work the rest of the day
Returning at the close to her humble hearth
where cleanliness and comfort reigned, she
would take out her old father for an hours
walk on the quay, and keep him merry by
recounting all the gossip of the boat; not
forgetting the attempts at Irritation carried
merino manufactory, whose pressing ma
chimes Immediately adjoined the elaundresses'
bark, and who never failed, in going to and
fro twenty times day, to fling passing
compliment at the belle blanchissuese
(pretty laundress). The cheerful old man
would re-echo the Gght-hearted laugh with
which those tales were told; but following
them up with soberer counsels of experience
over the closing meal of the day, then fall
gently asleep amid the cares and caresses of
the most dutful of daughters.
Three years had rolled away since her
mothers death, and Blanche, happily en-
crossed between her occupation abroad and
her flial duties at home, had found no leis-
ure to listen to tales of love. There was,
however, among the young merino- dressers,
tall, handsome fellow named Victor, on
whose open counteBanee were written dis
positions corresponding to those of his fair
neighbor, whom, instead of annoying with
idle familiarities, he gradually won upon, by
respectable civility towards herself, and still
more by kind inquiries after her good old
father.
By degrees he took upon him to watch the
time when she might be toiling, heavily la
den, up the steep slippery steps; and by
coming just behind her, would slyly ease her
of more than half her burden. On parting
at the door of one of the great public laun-
dry establishments (where the work begun
on the river is afterwards completed he
would leave her with the hopeful salutation.
in which more was meant than met the car,
of, sGood- bye, Blanche, till we meet again
Such persevering attentions could hardly
be paid with indifference; and Blanche was
of too kindly nature to remain unmoved
by them. But while she capdidly ackuowl-
edged the impression they had made on her
heart, and it was one which she would carry
to the grave, she with equal honesty declar-
cd that she could allow no attachment to
another to come between her and her devo-
tedness to her blind father. "And why
should it, dear Blanche?" was the young
mans rejoinder; tssurely two Of US can do
more for his happiness than one. lost my
own father when a child, and it will be quite
a pleasure to me to have some one lean call
50. In marrying, you will give the old man
the most dutiful of sons"
"Ah, but I should give myself master,
who would claim and engross the greatest
part of my love, for know should so love
you, Victor And if we had family, the
poor dear old man would come to have but
the third place in my heart, after having it
all to himself 50. long! He would in1 it out,
blind as he is, though he would never COM
plain; butt would make him miserable. No,
no; don't talk to me of marrying as long as
he lives, or tempt me with the thoughts Of a
happiness which have quite enoughto do to
forego. Let poor Blanche fulfil the task
God has given her to perform; and don't
lure her by your honied words to forget her
most sacred duty''
Poor Blanche might well say she had
enough to do to maintain her dutiful resolu.
ton, between the gentle opportunities of
her betrothed, and the general chorus of