St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1888-05-17
STRAWS.

Lucy White Palmer, in COngregdtiondlist.
Miss Gerry was sweeping the din
ng room. 1t was afternoon, to be sure,
but what of that The dining room
needed sweeping, the morning had
been too crowded with necessary duties
for her to do it then, and the next day,
she foresaw, would be as crowded. So
with apron over her trim gown, sweep
ng cap covering the neatly dressed
hair, and gloves ON the hands which,
very sensibly, she did not like to
rOughen, Miss Gerry was sweeping in
the afternoon. The door-bell rang.
She peeped out and exclaimed, ooh,
iear it's the Churchillsi To think
that the most aristOcratic people in
town should catch me sweeping in the
afternoon Mother, show them into
the parlOr, and tell them I'll be there
presently"
And away flew Miss Gerry. Did she
take off cap, apron and gloves, and ap-
pear her own neat self without apollo
gies 7 By no means. She donned as
quickly as possible her dantiest, most
aesthetic afternoon costume, with
which the idea of a broom, by no
stretch of the imagination, could be
connected. Then she appeared, with
abundant excuses.
"Ah, dear Mrs. Churchill, and you,
too, my dear Miss Minnal So sorry to
keep you waitingl Do excuse me!
The truth is, | was lying down when
you came just little sieSta, you know.
Rather lazy habit, | fear, but so re-
reshingi Oh, don't apologize for dis
turbing me! Really, it was high time
was up l am ashamed L was not"
All, Miss Gerry, were you ashamed
of nothing else, as you glibly told that
lie, that you might appear fashionable
to your fashionable friends7
In one of our New England cities
ives Mrs. Wilding. She is rich, she is
fashionable, and she has three daugh-
ters. Before each of those girls has
been held up always the one grand OBJ
ject of the feminine life, viz, to secure
a husband who shall be desirable"
g., rich and in society. For that eli
gible part, that not impossible he,
when she sees in every creature en-
lOwed with coat and a silver-headed
cane, does each of those girls dress,
pose, walk, talk, and order her whole
life. ga good match" is the ideal of
heaven which the mother holds up be-
fore her daughters. ga poor match" is
purgatOry. No match at all-let no
unskillful pen try to depict the woes of
the unhappy maiden whom that fate
shall OVertake What heather moth
er can more faithfully endeavOr to
make and keep her daughter the toy
and slave of the other sex, than does
this civilized woman, whose daintily
glOved fingers last Sunday dropped in
d to the church plate her mite toward
the higher education of women in Tur-
key, and the freeing of the sex in India9
And now, what kind of wives and
mothers do these girls makeR Let one
of them answer for herself. l heard
her one day talking in street car, and
she made no secret of her views. A la
dy acquaintance entered, and the two
elegantly dressed women exchanged
greetings, followed by profound Obser-
vatiOns upon the weather. Then came
an animated discussion of the "styles, y
and mention of the newest society
novel. Finally the new conner, glanc-
ing at beautiful boy of six, who was
absorbed in looking out of the Cal
window, said, "Is that your child, Mrs
GOlde n
eyes"
"What pretty boy! Have you any
others 2"
Goodness, mol / should hope not y
'.Why 7"
"Dear me one is quite enough I'm
sure / didn't want that one SO don't
talk to me of any more"
'DOn't you and your husband like
childrenR Z"
ooh, my husbaudl He's wild over
them. He would almost give his eyes
for another; but l don't want any
Ill L.
divorce me and marry some one else il
he wants to, but | won't have my house
filed with crying children, spelling my
pretty things, getting in my way, up
setting my plans, and being nuisances
generally. Clarence is well enough
now that he has got up out of baby
hood but one is enough"
Here L left the car, carrying will
me, through all the busy and varied
scenes of the day, n sharp heart pair
at the thought of the divine mystery o
motherhood SO carelessly sneered at
its holy trusts ruthlessly scorned, anC
trampled under foot. ''The hand tina
rocks the cradle rules the world" Ala
for the poor old world, if it's ruling i
to lie in such hands as these
1t was once my lot to board for few
mOulus III a OeduIHuI CITY. Every
pleasant day l wheeled my baby out
On the broad, shady sidewalks whicl
81 we frequented | used to meet many
other baby carriages, their little occu
pants in charge of girls with snow,
caps and aprons. Hardly a day passed
NJ that was not accOsted by some of thes
girls, and always, after the first gener
al chat, would come the questions
"Where do you live 7" ''Say, who d
yer work for 7" "WhOse baby's that 7
The stare of incredulOus astOnish
ment which always greeted my quie
answer, "He is my own baby" wa
very funny.
''She says it's her own baby, and sh
amt wOrkin' out for no one % over
heard one of them tell another, IN
tone of perplexed amazement.
"Why did you take me for a nurs
girl Why shouldn't it be my Ow
baby I"
"Why, nothing, Only-well the ladie
Z round here don't ever wheel their Ow
babies out" she answered.
"Well, | am lady, and | wheel m
own baby out" | remarked briefly.
That afternoon one of the ladies VIII
never wheeled her own baby out wen
by with little shaggy poodle in he
arms.
l. 81 l.