And, from things convenient, they went to things pleasant, that “’twould be so nice to have!” Among these were mentioned canary-birds, a melodeon, a magazine, Madame Demorest’s Monthly, a set of handsome furniture, lots of pictures, a window built out for keeping plants through the winter, a bathing-room, a set of furs, a whole barrel of lemons and oranges, a lavender-colored poplin dress; and one of the company would like to take a little journey.
I observed that these conveniences and pleasures were spoken of in a jesting, almost sarcastic tone, as if the likelihood of obtaining them were about equal to that of obtaining the crown-jewels of England. In regard to the first, the conveniences, “My husband can’t afford it,” was a phrase used so often, as to set me to thinking, and that quite seriously. These domestic phrases all have a bearing on my present studies.
“Can’t afford it!” Now, it is a question well worth considering, what are the things to be afforded.
In the first place, what is our most precious possession, the best worth having, the best worth saving? Why, life, to be sure! “All that a man hath will he give for his life.” “Any thing to save life” is a remark frequently heard.
The next point that I wish to make is, that a woman who overworks sacrifices her life. I have heard women speak of being so tired they could not sleep, but lay all night with “nerves a-trembling,” and rose in the morning unrefreshed. Now, no human being can live long in such a condition as that. Well, then, if overwork kills, whatever saves work saves life. Life is the most precious possession: therefore, money spent in saving work is money well spent; and the answer to our question is, that conveniences are the things to be afforded.
But men, that is, many men, do not consider the subject in this light. Apparently, those women were right in saying that a man “don’t understand” how “tried” a woman is with not having things convenient. Apparently, men “don’t understand” that such words as “backache,” “headache,” “nervous,” “trembling,” mean wearing out.
I recollect several cases in which a husband let himself be importuned for some “convenience,” week after week, and granted it at last with the bearing of a person doing an inestimable favor; as if he were an outside party, having no interest in the affair at all. I believe, that if Mr. Fennel should provide Mrs. Fennel with “stationary tubs, with pipes to let the water in and out,”—tubs, mind, in which to wash his own clothes,—he would consider himself entitled to her everlasting gratitude. At any rate, I see that whenever a washerwoman is hired, the money to pay her comes hard, as hard as lifting the tubs does to Mrs. Fennel and Martha.
I have a friend, who, after his wife really had been injured by bringing water from a well, did at last, by reason of her importunity, put a pump in the sink. And, ever since that great job was accomplished, whenever she asks for any thing which can possibly be done without, “that pump” serves as an excuse for refusing. Yes, and probably “that pump” will be made to throw cold water on dress, carpet, magazine, or melodeon for many a year to come.
Now, my friend was interested in “that pump” just as much as his wife, only she never had allowed him to find it out. If, when the pailful he brought in the morning—and which he “didn’t understand” why it should not last all day—was used up, if then she had let the dinner stop cooking, why, that would have made him “understand.” But, instead of doing this, she went to the well herself, knowing that he would “expect his dinner, whatever,” to quote Mrs. Melendy.