Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1877-02-08
{From our local contributor.)
The Song Of the scrnbbers.

| Swish, swish, swish, swish,a sprinkle
Of sand, small deluge of water, then
swish swish, swish swish, swish swish.
There is some music in it, isn't there
There must be, or some women would
not, year in and year out, week in and
week out, cling so constantly to the
scrub-broom. Indeed such is the tyranny
this household implement, in the hands
of its owners, exerts, that convenience,
health, happiness, the circumstances of
friends, all that is worthy of being
regarded in the home circle, succumbs
to it. Let the scrubber feel well or i'll,
that porch must be scrubbed; it is her
custom to do it on certain day, and be
done it must. The proyerbial spring
mud may lay around in all its insight
illness, ready to adhere to every
passing foot, and then be transferred
to door step and porch,-its all the
same to her, she could neither eat her
meals, nor sleep quietly, if she had not
gone through the regular routine, with
broom, bucket and wat er. A sunny,
glorious day in midwinter may come,
giving foreshadow Of spring. tempting
one to visit relations or nelghbors, to
stir abroad, to drink it in, alas! it
tempts in vain though the sun shines
over head, is there not mud under foot?
Mud that requires ceaseless watching,
lest there be a track on the oil cloth,
the spotiess doorsill, Or even the boards
in the yard. Why even election days,
i'll which every patriotic woman should
take some interest, have no charms for
these. if they fall on the washing or the
scrubbing day.
And while they scrub the days go by
TO return no more. Go by, taking with
them the lost opportunities for the
Improvement of their own minds, and
those of their own families. For the
care of the house and its belongings,
they will neglect the immortal element Of
it. inmates. What responsibility is
here laid aside for things of less moment,
and what a reckoning there will be.
when the time comes for the rendering
up of our talents. My friends these
things should not be. Burst the bonds
of this tyrant, who day by day forces
You to attempt perfection Of cleanliness
which you can never attain; which makes
YOU look with different eyes from other
people. on each atom Of dust and
grease spot around you, causing you
actually to think you are cleaning dirt,
when to other eyes, all is clean and
neat. Let not your husbands sit lonely
in the house, while you scrub away at
nothing; is it any wonder he tarries
long at the store and shop, if not at the
grog shop, when he knows he will wait
in vain fer sight Of you sitting at rest
At the fireside? Do all that is needful for
the health and comfort Of your families,
in the way Of keeping the house clean,
but no more once day at least, il
possible let your family feel you are
freed from active toll; it will be
compliment to your husband, relief to
your children. Have you a pleasant
home. and comfortable surroundings
enjoy them. If you have a pretty
parlor, sit in it sometimes it was not
given you to CLEAN, but to use. Gather
your loved ones around you. read your
books, and look at your pictures, sit in
your easy chairs. and be thankful, thus
making some return to God, for all his
benefits toward you. So shall you
build up happy home here on the
earth. that place the nearest to heaven.
Is it not worth the effort? And will it
not be more blessed IN that great day to
hear Her children arise up, and call
her blessed, her husband also. and be
praiseth her." than ''These things We
ought to have done, and not to have
left the others undone!
No ''stitch, stitch, stitch,'' in Hoods
melancholy ''Song Of the Shirt" was
ever more painfully suggestive, than the
oft recurring never ending, swish, swish.
swish, Of the scrubbers.
s---
She emerged from the GENE terry.