After-the-War Servant Problems How the Great Conflict ended the Golden Days of Service in the Houses of the Elect
Tweedledum and Tweedledee aka chauffeur and footman GILDING THE LILYIn the good old ante-bellum days, scenes like this were every-day occurrences in the life of Mr. J. Wallingford Smith,—inventor and sole owner of Smith’s Slenderizing Stays—They Lace on the Side. Mr. Smith simply could not call it a day unless at least five male menials were involved in the process of getting him dressed. All his puttings on and takings off were personally attended to by these motherly creatures. And then, just as everything was going nicely, the world had to get mixed up in that dreadful war, so that poor Mr. Smith now has to adjust his jewelry without a corps of specially trained liveried attendants. Panic! Misery! The servants have been conscripted into the army TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEEPortrait impression—from memory—of Mr. and Mrs. J. Wallingford Smith, motoring in their third-best Rolls-Royce, just about two weeks before the Kaiser turned on the war. Note the attendant chauffeur and footman—Mr. and Mrs. Smith wouldn’t dream of going out without two men on the box. But things aren’t what they used to be. The chauffeur and footman now own their own motors—after two years in the provision business. Servants marching off as soldiers WHY BOYS LEAVE HOMEThis scene, almost too terrible to look upon, is absolutely true—it’s not one of those faked war pictures at all. It reveals the hideous, dreadful privations, that the war brought upon some of us. It shows the bitter anguish of the J. Wallingford Smiths as they watched a battalion of their footmen, chauffeurs, butlers, valets gardeners, coachmen, grooms, house detectives, and resident photographers departing for the Saar Valley. How silent and lonely the house has seemed, the past year, without these brave youths! Stripling acting as mobile coat rack The maid in a more becoming uniform TIGER! TIGER!Conscription was the mother of invention—Mrs. Smith recently conceived the brilliant idea of engaging a mere stripling to understudy for the footman who was removed by the war. Someone simply has to carry the family ermines around—you can’t expect a lone lady to do it all by herself. The accompanying picture graphically portrays the new footman in action—playing the part of a movable human coat-room. THE ULTIMATE STRAWAnd now, even Mrs. Smith’s maid has gone and done it—she decided to remain permanently in the Woman’s Motor Corps. The uniform is so much more becoming than those trying maid’s costumes. She is pictured with her latest and very best Young Man. CASUALS OF THE AVENUEFate seems to be against the unhappy Smiths—it’s not even on speaking terms with them. Even that good idea of Mrs. Smith’s about engaging a child footman didn’t work out. The boy wonder was really too immature—he couldn’t overhear even the simplest stories without blushing—so Mrs. Smith had to resort to a maid to accompany her around the city. But, judging from her expression, she is a trifle dismayed by the number and ardor of Mrs. Smith’s casual acquaintances. Mrs. Smith, her maid and her casual (male) acquaintances |