, 1882-06-16

details or cookery nut To NE aOle TO
keep the domestic machinery we'll
oiled and in constant motion was, TO
us. like an unknown language. And
so, now, without any adequate knowl-
edge of work and its responsibilities,
We found ourselves with a mountain
of difficulties to surmount, and pretty
work we made of il for few days,
too. 1t was not very hard to get
through supper, for, thanks to moth
er's provident hands, there was plenty
prepared for that meal But when,
next morning, We found the bread was
ont, the cookies all gone, and not a
single stray pie for dinner, our trouble
began began to broaden and deepen
with every passing moment, as we be
came painfully aware that making
bread and pastry was branch Of ed
ucational knowledge We had not found
in our text books at school and when,
about ten o'clock, father, blissfully ig
norant of our innocence of the culiLa
ry art, sent up a sirloin roast, and the
news that gentleman would come
home with him to dinner, and fifteen
minutes after the washerwoman
brought home the clothes for us to
iron. | was ready to melt into tears,
while Kate was so cross it was dan
gerous to speak to her.
Oh, that weary, weary day But
just the beginning of the many OF like
character that followed it !! How we
longed for mothers skillful hands to
straighten out the tangled threads
our awkward fingers had managed to
produce. There was always some
thing to be done, from early morn till
late at night, SO that no sooner did
we fancy ourselves free for half an
hour, than some duty undone would
stare us in the face, or the children
would come in with clamoring stom-
achs and gossipy tongues, so that, in
few days, L became addicted to
chronic fretfulness, Kate was a VERT
able scold, while John scowled over
the miserable meals, Ross teased us
in every vulnerable point, and poor,
patient father pitied our ofttimes in
hrmities and ate what was set before
him for conscience sake.
1t went on this way for upwards of
a fortnight, when after a very trying
day, we took our books and sat down
for quiet evening but, alas for our
hopes Only ten minutes Of peace,
and an ominous ahem from father
caused us to look up.
do you know, girls" he asked
timidly, whether mother mended
my pants before she went away l
should like them to put on in the
morning. She generally did her
mending every week, belive."
There !" burst out Kate, shutting
her book with a bang, while /, casting
one desponding look at the fascinat-
ing pages OF david Copperfeld, {"
arose and went to take glance at the
mending basket.
1t was full to the brim shirts,
socks, little ginham coats with the
pockets torn down, and buttons
pulled half off with shreds of cloth
hanging to them ; fathers pants, and
Nellie's school dress with rent clear
across the front. With doleful sigh
l lifted the basket, and without a
word, we sat down to the unwelcome
task. Nine, ten o'clock came and
went, and the basket was not half
empited of its contents. Father, John,
Ross and Nellie gaped and stretched,
and, one by one, followed the children
off to bed. Eleven, and still we sat,
silent and grim as ghosts, solemnly
stitching away at the endless rents.
"Cad, " said Kate, at last, Jerking
out the words as if she hated them,
how do you like it 2"
Like what :" l asked in aston
ishment.
"This life of slavery. This hum
drum, everlasting, ick-to-it, unsat-
isfactory existence. With not a speck
of spice in the way of variety about
it. Just over and over, round and
round, until we seek our rest low in
the ground"
"Oh, Kate !" 1 exclaimed, almost
shocked, mot so bad as that not
nearly SO bad as that"
"Yes, worse than that with many.
very many, Cad Rouncewell. My
plain opinion, very plainly expressed,
is that women are fools"
"Why Kater'
Don't why Kate me. Just look
at this mending-basket. 1t has been
filled and emptied, year after year (:
filed by our carelessness, and emp
tied by our mothers slavish toll. and
we, great, healthy, er-grown girls.
sat calmly by and saw her do it. And
She weak, unselfsh woman that she
is, hadn't snap enough about her to
rap us over the head with her thimble
for our ugliness."
opened my mouth to say some
thing, but she made dab at me with
her needle and | desisted.
Don't expostulateg' she exclaimed,
Il hate it. Look at yourself as YOU
are, and as you have been ever since
you was born, little useless bit Of
furniture, and see if you don't look