New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1904-01-17
rs TO THE PASTOR'S WIFE.
What the World Expects Of Her
Average Day I'm Her Life.

rbere was published In a recent Sunday insus Of
The Tribuns q descriptive account OF typical
day of busy pastor. which set forth Ia amusing
yet withal pathetic detail certain Of the trials and
harassuents that, ell unsupported by the world
without beset the personal life OF the modern cler-
gynan. To-day another pen picture shall be un-
veiled-this time OF day out Of the life OF
clersyman's wife. The subject Of the sketch, be 1t
well understood is not the spouse of any sl6 0ooa
year favote Of fortune, with great social prestge
behind her and unlimited resources at her COM
uand, but the earnest true hearted helpmeet OF
mere average provincial minister possessed Of an
average income. occupying an average social posi-
ton and, In short, resembling in every purely mum
dane respect ninety-eight out of every hundred
other ministers wives Her home is situated In a
city OF fair size and Importance: her husband is a
man OF such attachments and resources as the
average modern theologian of good family and uni
versty training may reasonably be expected to
possess.
"a day out of my lfe?" she echoed when a Trb-
une reporter ventured her somewhat unusual
quest. "a mere average day. you say? Why
my dear. every day is so brimful Of work and
movement-not little of which is of a wholly IN
expected sort-that I afraid should find 1t
triAe difficult 20 single out any one day as really
typical of all the rest. Moreover, I fear''-this
with a faint little smile-"that you will find my
story rather a long and, perhaps. little
tedious. too, for my days work begins with my
earliest emergence from my bedroom, and often
does not end until the wee. sma' hours are I'M
comfortably near, if not actually with
"I begin the day with visit to the kitchen in
order that may convince myself that my maids
really up and at work; for did omit this duty
there would almost inevitably be annoying de-
lay about breakfast, which must be served runctu-
ally at g. If the children to get off to school
at the proper hour. Next I that the dining
room Is we'll aired and we'll heated, arrange the
breakfast table (this duty always prefer to per-
form myself Jane is rather inclined to be SLOW
enly). and then upstairs to how the chill
dren are progressing with their toilet and remind
them OF their prayers There FIVE OF my little
people, you know and OF them old enough
to be entirely Independent of mammals help; while
the only nursemaid 1 afford at present Is a
young slip Of girl. whose beautiful willingness Is
only equaled by her colossal inexperience.
at would be a very singular thing indeed II
there not by this time or more distressed
individuals wanting my helpr-or. possibly, my hus-
band's-and pathetically waiting for IL at the side
/ door. On this particular morning have not been
| long upstairs when: Please ma'amf calls Mary.
| the cook. up the back stairway Mrs. Joness re-
spects. and you please spare n bit o. bread
for the children's breakfasts? It's the little boy.
| ma'am, an he says they haven't bite in the
house 1 downstairs in hurry give the poor
little fellow loaf and milk ticket Issued by our
| own milkman, and promise to come and see his
| mother before noon. am no more than upstairs
| again when Jane the chambermaid. comes after
| me. with: IF you please. ma'ann. there's poor
| man at the side door, and he wants to know IL he
| can chop bit of wood for his breakfast Again
| go down TO investigate observe Phat the man is
| blue with cold and nearly starved bid Mary sivo
! him cup OF hot coffee and some bread and meat