Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1886-04-01
ONE SORT O. HOUSEKE 5PIN'.

=
sence me and Saral Ann commenced
housekeapin'. We'ye alters lived right
here where we do this day, and guess |
we'll continner To stay here under the |
old roof until some day when one or |
pother OF us III hev to go, and the old |
church he'll III toll and the marrow
heusr" the poets tell about will open |
its door, and one or pOther Nv us III hev |
to 90 in, and the door it'll be closed,
and we'll go to our long time rest.
Mebbe it won't be 80 very long apart
we'll go, cause did you ever notice,
how the old folks who hev lived and
loved together for menny year, go "a
way sometimes almost tOgether-even
the DarkRiver don't seperate 'em long,
they loved each other so.
And now friends, do you want ter
know why begun this letter SO, and
why Sarah Ann and me heV alters got
on so well together 2 Well, it won't
take long ter tell. It's because we've
both of us he'd a little kommon-sense
(if do say it), and Sarah Ann hev US
ed hers in housekeepin', aud I've tried
to use mine in prOvidin' things as kom
fortable-like es could and 'lowin' her
to do the housekeepu' part herself
'bOut es she wanted ter.
I'v9 lived long enough to diskiver
some things, and one is that there's
two kinds of housekeepin'--sensible
and foolish. The sensible kiud hes
things neat. and orderly and pleasant
about the house, jist as matter of
course. 1t don't take emmy frettin' an
foamin' to hev it so-it sort o. has it.
self thet way. Aud the foolish kind is
where the woman goes about the house
with double. barrelec microscope, as
iU was, lookin' fur the least appearance
Of dirt, and with dust-rag in one hand
and a dust broom in the other she goes
around MAXIM herself and everybody
else miserable. She meets the children
when they come from school, with a
smile? Not much-if it's muddy, or
dusty or even sunny !-11Don't you
come in here with those muddy feet
onto my clean carpets" is the first
thing said, even il they come into the
most back door in the house and the
clean carpet is nutain' but an old rag
helm loom full of holes and greasy.
Such woman never goes nowhere,
never has emmy time The stove wants
blacNin', the kniyeS want scourin,' the
chaInOerS waits sweepin', the cellar
wants cleanin' the winders wants
washin' or the mopb)ards wants scrub
bin. She can't leaye the dish-cloth
and the dust-rag long enough 10 go to
missionary meetin', and es fur emmy
charitable or neighborly work she does
outside-it don't amodut to a thimble-
full, don't get time. She's housekeep.
in slave bound down with dish rags
and busters till she can't move, aud
she's so nice and neat she makes enny
ordinary person feel like miserable
slattern if she calls on her and sits
tion.
or course believe in hevin' things
neat AID nice, but not over neat and
over-nice. believe in no slovenly sort
o. housekeepin', but | don't bleeye in
woman's maxim ID eternal drudge of
herself. What sort of earthly good dus
it do /? Amt there nothin' higher i'm
livin' than keepin' the dust off of
things ? Ain't there emmy duties that
a woman owes to her family, and to
society, too, that she should attend to,
or should she narrow down her mind
to the scrubbin' of the four walls sur
roundin her ? 1t don't take long for
sensible, kommon sense woman to an
swer these questions. But there's
menny a woman who'll read these lines
that's doin' the very thing I'm object
in against, and because she's doin' it
Is why write, hopin' that this year
will see change in her method of
housekeepin'.
I've read this over to Sarah Ann, Mr..
Editor, and she agrees with me- prob
ably largely becatse she knows, as L
do, that her housekeepin' is of the SEN
| Sible kind UNCLE HEZEKIAH