CHAPTER XXXVI
CARETAKERS AND GOVERNESSES
Because of her versatile adaptability to the management of details, woman, all through the ages, has willingly and happily sacrificed herself upon the altar of service. It is not in the province of this chapter to go into the details of the tribal life of the early hordes and clans that came from the north and from the east to establish civilization in the cities of Rome and Britain—space forbids. In this chapter we wish to hold up a picture to the mother, a picture which may speak volumes to her soul; one which perhaps she may ruthlessly throw away—nevertheless, we propose to exhibit it.
HOMEMAKING VS. HOUSEKEEPING
A newspaper woman in my office recently told me a story of a mother who finished her high-school education, took some work in a university, and who yielded to the earnest pleas of her lover-classmate through grammar school, high school and college—and married him. To this happy family there came a number of beautiful children. The mother willingly, lovingly, cared for them during their helpless infancy—made their clothes, managed their meals, opened the door for them as they came home from school, met them with a cheery story, listened to their problems, helped them with their lessons—but all through it, first, last and all the time, she also managed the entire home. She dusted the furniture, changed the curtains, looked after the linen, mended the clothes, and even pressed the trousers of her "rapidly rising" husband that he might go out into his "club life" and enjoy the evenings with his associates. The duties of the day so wearied her, and the night vigils with the sick child,—looking after the little coughs, the uncovered shoulders, getting the drinks of water and performing a dozen other details—that she was too weary to accompany her husband to the dance, to the theater, to the social gathering or to ladies' night at the club; and so, in the course of a dozen years, the mother had grown old, and quite naturally she had grown "home centered." Her world's horizon was the walls of her home. She was happy and quite contented in her children's smiles, in the cheery "how do you do" of her husband, in the fact that that gravy was good or that steak was fried to the king's taste.
She was happy and contented until one day when the awakening blow came. In the attic she and her thirteen-year-old son, who was just entering high school, were looking through an old chest when she drew forth some examination reports and some old school cards—holding them up side by side. One set of the cards bore the father's name and the other set the mother's maiden name. In great surprise the boy exclaimed, "Why, mother, I never knew you studied algebra and Latin; why, mother, I never knew you were educated." Her eyes were immediately opened, the scales fell off, she was awakened to the fact that her own son was coming to regard his mother as somewhat inferior, in intellectual attainments, to the father—that she was considered in that home as a mere domestic. True, the steak had been broiled well, the pudding was exquisite, the children's clothes were always in order, the husband's trousers were always beautifully pressed, his ties were cleaned as well as a cleaner could clean them; but where did she stand in her boy's mind and where was she in her husband's mind?
"Do you notice how trim and nice Mrs. Smith always looks? Her clothes are always in the latest style, and she combs her hair so becomingly." Such remarks as this from the well-meaning husband cut keenly, and it is well that they do, for often it is only such remarks that wake up our "home mother."
Dear reader, I want you to ponder this story. I wish to say to the mother who has started out upon a career in life, who has prepared herself for teaching school, for a business career, for story writing, for millinery, for lecturing, or has perhaps graduated in a domestic science course, that she makes the mistake of her life in settling down, just because she has taken another's name, to be perfectly satisfied with becoming the household domestic, the household mender, the household cook.