The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1877-04-27
HoUsE-OLBANIEG.

AO ODA-OA1AN1AOs
This season of semi-annual confusion
and discomfort is again upon Us. House
wives who must oversee, if not, as in
many instances, do most of the hard
work, rise early on Monday morning
from slumbers disturbed by visions of
defaced picture frames, lace curtains
torn by careless handling at the laun-
dry, crOckery broken, and everything
misplaced, and tying an ancient veil
over unkempt locks, make preparations
for the onslaught upon dusty carpets,
dimmed windows, dilapidated furniture,
add begrimed paint.
The children are early invested with
clean aprons and dinner pals and sent
to school; pdter famiLlias is suggest
lively interrOgated concerning the prox-
unity of lunch-hOuse to his place of
business, and the coast being thus
cleared of hindrances to progress, the
work begins. In an incredibly short
space of time the contents of the house
are transported to the yard, lovely green
sward and delicate shrubbery alike
bending beneath the weight of heavy
articles hastily thrown out at open doors
and windows. Odors redolent of soap
and sitting with dust and vapor take
possession of every room. The vigorous
sound of the vigorously applied scrub
bing brush and the brisk whisk of the
broom blends with the not very musical
voice of the mistress, the quick cry with
which the house cat announces her
knowledge of the fact that hot water is
about, and the disconsolate yelp of the
dog as he, with dropping caudal append
age, moves from place to place in the
vain attempt to escape discomfort and
punishment. Briskly the work goes on;
all hands are employed. Windows are
detached from their castings and sub
jected to a scrubbing that removes the
last trace of the last fly of the last sea-
son. Mirrors are made to look bright,
even while rejecting the uncouth dress
of the renovator, as with skirts pinned
up, arms bare, hands the color of boiled
Holsters, hair tucked away in a soiled
napkin, and face streaming with per-
spiratiOn, she vigorously applies the
towel. All day the contest goes on, and
at nightfall the household paraphernalia
is dumped into clean rooms to await the
rearranging process on the morrow, and
the family are disposed of for the night
upon "shake-downs" in various corners,
amid many mutterings of discomfort at
the discomforts they are obliged to en-
dure. Another day dawns and draws to
a close and the tired and nervous mother
and house-keeper stands viewing with
as much satisfaction as her weary body
and tired spirit will permit the changes
that these two days have wrought.
True, there are some little discourage
ments; those picture frames were rubbed
almost too vigorously for the good looks
of the gilt borders, and water was used
almost too freely for the benefit of the
engravings some astonishing rents
were either washed or ironed in the lace
curtains which the most deft and care
ful darning cannot quite conceal; the
mate to that lovely Sewers vase has
been broken; the hanging basket, which
had been the beauty of the sitting-room
all winter, was overturned and the deli
cate vine spoiled-but everything is
clean. Not even the mutterings of the
"head of the house, over the expenses
necessary to meet the new demands, nor
his assumption of an herculean part in
the labors that took place entirely in
his absence, can alter this fact, and heI
chief enemies, dust and cobwebs, being
for the time dethroned in her dwelling
the "Mistress of the Manse" betakes
herself to sleep, "Eerchance to dream" o.
her semi-annual conquest.