West-Jersey pioneer., 1866-01-13
WORK FOR WOMEN.

lings, and bread and butter and tea, and
cotton and calico must somehow be pro-
vided, and SO must many another little re-
quisite essential to the due keeping to-
gether Of soul and body. Now, how is it
to be done?
"What is the use ?" Oh, how often,
sick at heart and discouraged, and all but
despairing, the poor struggler against life's
time and tide pauses to ask herself this
question. This rising in the morning of
day of disheartening toll; this going to
a nightly pillow of unrestful dreams; this
perpetual strife and pain that people call
life---is it worth the effort Z Does it pay,
mentally or corporeally, to live as too
many women live?
A bold and daring question to ask, but
we can very easily comprehend the frame
Of mind that suggests such query
An existence that drags on from day to
day, with not one forward step, is enough
to crush the elasticity out of caoutchouc
itself. Instead of wondering at the list of
suicides, that are becoming appallingly
frequent, one is tempted rather to marvel
that more women do not take this dread
full escape-valve from labyrinth of daily
increasing trials and troubles And it is
high time we looked the fact boldly in the
face.
1t is not that women are afraid Of work
in the abstract Afraid |! In that res
pect they are courageous as Chevalier
Bayard himself Look at any American
housewives perpetual treadmill of wash
tub, kitchen fire, and work basket! Look
at the amount of labor performed by the
wives and daughters Of our inland far
mers. They will work---aye, and work
willingly, until they are ready to drop
from sheer exhaustion. They have no
more idea of sparing themselves than if
they were machines of iron and STEEL
And the consequence too often is that our
women at thirty are old, and faded, and
broken down.
No, it is not work, properly balanced
and duly adjusted, that wears people out.
If woman can only feel that she is doing
something, that she is progressing, be it
ever SO slowly, the sting or bitterness van
ishes from the most servile labor. "Some-
thing accomplished, something done"-
that is what every native yearns for. Ii
at the end of weary, struggling year a
woman finds that she has made no advance,
socially or pecuniarily, that she is only
three hundred and sixty-fve days farther
toward the dreary twilight Of existence,
does anybody blame her for crying out, in
the language of Hebrew Rebekah, "What
good shall my life do me %
that we are not talking to people who walk
on velvet.carpets, and wear cashmere, ane
whose idea of work means worsted ant
wax flowers We are not addressing those
who are provided with the wherewitha
both to eat and to drink, and work, sim
ply because the industrial instinct is strong
within them. We are talking to those
who must either work or starve. Unfor
tunately, there are no asylums in this
country for lorlorn widows, and solitary
old maids, and women whose husbands
arc worse than dead. Something they
must do, or perish-and what shall it be!
Our advice is this:
Leave dressmaking, and sewing, anc
copying, and embroidery to those wht
have not courage to diverge from the higf
road Of heavy work and light wages
There are always enough timid souls tt
seize on the scanty crumbs of this sort
Competition may be the life of trade, bu
it is the death of womankind. If yo,
must work, work to some purpose. Fint
something that will pay-something tha
will not grind the vitality out of you, ant
leave you at the years end just precisel.
where you we're before. Don't take it fo
granted that all cheerfulness and sunshin
must die out Of life simply because it be
comes necessary for you to make an effor
to live You may as well consult you
comfort and health as to sacrifice them.
"If | were man, would be farmer,
says the overtasked creature, with an cage
instructive yearning for green hills ant
fresh winds, and air that is not entirely
devoid Of oxygen. Very weH-why no
be farmer all the same, although 20,
happen to be a woman? Are not Govern
ment lands offered to you literally fo
nothing? Does Uncle Sam-bless th'
dear, warm hearted old fellow-make an,
exception to the fact that you wear bon
net and shawl? You cannot afford tt
hire men ? Then do the work yourself
Look at the German woman, rosy-cheeket
and brown browed, toiling all day long il
the great market-gardens that surround
New York Do they look as if manua
labor disagreed with them Is it an.
harder to drop corn, or plant potatoes, o
hoe turnips, than it is to stand all da,
before washtub or over an ironing-table
We opine not Or, be more enterprisins
j still plants vineyard-a boy ten year
old can put few hundred grape-cutting
into the ground, and woman Of fort,
surely ought not to shrink from the at
tempt Once fairly started, you need no
trouble about getting auxiliaries-the.
will come themselves. Dew and SUNSHINE
will help you, spring rains and summe
heats will work tirelessly in your behalf
Natures whole generous heart will b.
beating for your benefit. Only be care
full to locate within market distance 0
some considerably-sized place, and tn
FIRST you know, whole army of green
draped servitors will be holding out help
ing tcndril-hands to your need. w
know lady who, visiting a friend, brough
home half dozen trion,phe dgond straw
berry plants, and set them out in sum,
spot, where an old corn6eld had ono
waved its silken tassels. Well, the littl
runners wandered hithcr and yon, strik
ing network Of roots wherever the fanc,
pleased them. A little judicious trim
ming, half an hour now aud then with
spade or hoe, due protection with Stra,
in the dead Of wintcr-for this was anon
the sterile hills Of bleak New England :
and the third year there was such q snow
sprinkling Of blossoms, such scarle
wreath of luscious fruit as your OLD
/ | f,shsoro1 &c I'll