XII.
MEDITATIONS ON THE NURSE-MAID.
"The trouble with these household problems which vex women so much is that we do not give our minds to them sufficiently," said earnest little Mrs. Blythe. "Now I mean to give my mind to this nurse-maid problem, and work it out."
It is high time that somebody did. And it is not only on my own account: this is something which affects us all,—all who have nurse-maids, that is. I suppose the mothers without nurse-maids have their problems, too; but I must consider mine now.
Now what is the matter with the nurse-maid? She does not suit me. She has palpable faults and deficiencies. I want a better nurse-maid. So far I have trusted to the law of supply and demand to produce her, but it does not seem to work. I demand her, just as I have demanded a better housemaid for some time; but the supply is not forthcoming. So now I mean to think it out, and see if I cannot find a way to the invention, discovery, or manufacture of a better nurse-maid. And I mean to be very clear and logical in my thinking about it, so as to come out in the end with proof. I want to prove what is the matter with the nurse-maid and how to make her better.
In the first place, what are my objections to the nurse-maid now? She is careless and irresponsible. She is ignorant. She is ill-mannered. She is often deceitful. I can't trust her.
Now it doesn't seem right that my child should be placed in the care of an ignorant, ill-mannered, careless, and irresponsible person,—even if not also untrustworthy,—does it? And it does not relieve me of the care as it ought. I have to take care of the child and the nurse-maid, too. What I want is a careful, responsible, wise, well-mannered, honourable young girl. She ought to have special training, too. It is really dreadful the way these ignorant girls undertake to care for children. We need schools—training schools—and diplomas. They could have practice classes on the children of the poor—or in institutions; and yet that idea does not quite suit me, either. My child is very individual and peculiar, and I don't believe that practising on poor children would fit a nurse-maid to take care of my child. But nice people would not want their children to be practised on. They would have to take the poor ones: it would do them good, anyway. They get no care now: their mothers are shockingly ignorant and neglectful.
But, after all, I don't have to arrange the training schools. I only know that she ought to have special training, and it ought to be practical as well as theoretical; and that means practising on some children somewhere, somehow. And they certainly would have to be poor, because rich people would not let their children go to be practised on. Maybe the poor people would not, either. Then it would have to be orphans, I guess, combining nurse-training schools with orphan asylums, and foundlings, too.
Well, now these nurse-maids would go to these training schools to improve themselves, would they! Come to think of it, they only go to nursing because they need the pay; and, even if the training schools were free, they'd have to wait longer for their money. And, if they got no more with training than without, they would not go, I'm afraid. We should certainly have to pay them more trained than untrained. That is perfectly logical, I'm sure. And, of course, that would be an obstacle. If the training schools were not free, we should have to pay them more yet,—enough to make it worth while to study the business of caring for children. A short course might do,—six months or a year.
I've heard my mother say that she knew something about taking care of children by the time Charley was born. But that was,—well, I was eight, and I'm the third,—that was about twelve years. Oh, but she wasn't in a training school! That would teach them faster. There would be more children to practise on. Let me see: if it took my mother twelve years to learn by practising on five children (Charley was the fifth,—four children), how many children would it take to learn on in one year? I'll get John to do that for me: I'm not good at figures. Besides, it's different,—altogether different; for my mother was a mother, so she knew how, to begin with, and nurse-maids are not. So—to be strictly logical—it ought to take nurse-maids longer, I'm afraid. The training schools will have to be free: I'm pretty sure of that. And that means public or private endowment. We might as well think it all out clearly.