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DOMESTIC ECONOMY.
We have learned something new, this week, — new to us, at
least, — that it 's really a bona fide disgrace for a young lady to
do house-work. Why, she may toil till her delicate fingers are
blistered in rolling nine-pins; she may walk over half the streets
in the city, or fatigue herself with music-lessons for which she
has not the slightest taste; but, if she would not lose caste, let
her avoid the kitchen, as she would a pestilence. No matter
how the beaded drops of sweat may stand on her mother's brow;
no matter how that mother's wearied head may throb, or her
tired limbs ache for repose! You may pity her, you may be
very sorry, — I don't know as that 's unfashionable, — but beware
how you lift her burden with the tips of your fingers!
No matter how bewitching may be that little close cap tied
over your rich hair, how neat and pretty the little white apron
which you are fastening over that gingham morning-dress, — take
them off, throw them away; for it 's “so unfashionable” to be
seen in the kitchen, and a fashionable acquaintance might chance
to enter, and discover you in those badges of the disgraceful occupation!
No matter how your heart aches to see that mother looking
so tired, no matter how your own enfeebled frame gives evidence
of a want of exercise; 't will never do to be unfashionable!
For exercise, you can go to a party, and dance half the night;
after all, your mother can but die, and the cold church-yard sod
will lie soft above that throbbing brow, and for earth's weary
ones there is a glorious rest in heaven!
We did n't know, till now, that “'t would n't do” to take practical
lessons in domestic economy; and we have some dim,
shadowy recollections of the theory of clear-starching and ironing,
and dusting parlors, that we shall very carefully conceal,
lest they should disgrace us forever in the eyes of fashionable
society. We used to think women — I beg Mrs. Grundy's
pardon, ladies — looked very lovely when they were trying to
lighten some dear one's toil, and flitting round, like a birdie in the
home-cage, with a gush of song trilling on their bright lips;
but, O dear! of course we must change our opinion now, since
we are taught that it is so dreadfully old-fashioned. Even the
Bible is getting now-a-days to be considered in some circles an
old-fashioned book, — very nice in its way, to be sure, but then so
old-fashioned, just suited to the days of spinning-wheels and
home-made linen.
Were it not for this, we might have suggested King Solomon's
picture of a good wife; but that, you know, is out of date now.
People are not expected to be wives, but brides and married
ladies.
Though, to be sure, we never could have learned all this alone,
unaided, we never should have invented the nice distinction by
which it becomes proper and fashionable for a father or brother
to toil in his counting-room like a very slave, but dreadfully
outré for a young lady to go in the neighborhood of a furnace or
frying-pan!
To be sure, had no one informed us, we should have thought it
the better way to strive to scatter fresh heart-flowers in the path
where dear feet must walk, and lighten the toil of one we loved,
by the help of fair, white hands; but, now that we have learnt
better, we are amazed to see what an ignorant little body we
were; and we take this opportunity to impress it on your minds,
fair readers, that you can violate the spirit of every commandment
in the decalogue with more impunity than you can in the
least degree venture to be unfashionable!
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