DOMESTIC QUALITIES

A Good Housekeeper and Home-maker.—If the young wife carries out the suggestions made on the preceding pages and thereby contributes her part to establishing the material success of the co-partnership, will she profit in any other way?

She will have become a good housekeeper and home-maker.

Housekeeping is an acquired art, home-making is a moral quality, an instinct. Housekeeping conducted as an art is superfluous. Home-making is a triumph under any circumstances. There are many good housekeepers; there are few competent home-makers. Housekeeping may easily be overdone; home-making can never be overdone. A beautiful house is not necessarily a beautiful home. Housekeeping should be conducted with a view to home-making and never for any other reason. Sometimes we see housekeeping brought to its highest perfection by the same woman who never did understand the simplest rudiments of home-making. The woman who becomes the victim of the housekeeping mania never realizes it; it is an insidious art.

There can be no doubt that a well-kept house is a thing of beauty. So also is a marble statue, but it is cold and bloodless.

The young wife must strive to combine the two faculties. She should be an efficient housekeeper in a happy, comfortable home.

What Constitutes an Efficient Housekeeper?—An efficient housekeeper is one who has acquired the knowledge necessary to perform all the duties of housekeeping, and who executes these duties efficiently, with the least possible expenditure of time and labor.

It is an absolute fact that most young wives begin housekeeping with the crudest ideas as to what housekeeping means. It has been pointed out many times, that many mothers bring their daughters up without instructing them in the elementary principles of keeping house. It is nevertheless necessary to repeat this statement over and over again, and to point out the enormity of the injustice done. Even if a daughter is fortunate enough to marry a man who is capable of supplying all the help necessary, a wife should know enough to intelligently discern if the work is properly done. If she does not understand the rudiments of housekeeping, and has no help, her inefficiency may be directly responsible for breaking up the home.

Preparation and Selection of Meals.—Thoroughness and simplicity are the two essentials to a satisfactory meal. If the articles are thoroughly cooked and the selection simple, there is no chance for trouble. A breakfast of fruit, a thoroughly cooked cereal with cream, a boiled egg and toasted bread and butter, is simple and is adequate. Freshly prepared hot biscuits sound good, but, unless you know your oven and have had a lot of experience, they are apt to result disastrously. Even if you are an expert, don't make them. They are very bad for digestion.

For dinner, lots of thoroughly cooked vegetables, a small piece of steak or two lamb chops, bread (at least one day old), and good butter, a baked apple, stewed prunes, or rice, boiled for three hours, is enough for any one. Have your meals on time. Be sure the table cloth and napkins are clean, and your dishes hot. Establish the habit of being cheerful at meals, of eating slowly, and of coming to the table with a clean, fresh dress.

Washing Dishes.—While your husband is reading the evening paper, wash your dishes. Washing dishes is an art. Few young wives acquire it. The secret is, a big basin, lots of hot water, lots of soap, and a desire to wash them clean. If you wash them clean, don't smear them over by drying them with a greasy dishcloth. Wash your dishrag and drying towel every day, and hang them up to dry in the sun.

Pots and Pans.—How they are neglected! If you have any pride as a housekeeper, be clean. Hot water, soap, a cleansing powder and a little effort, and your pots and pans will be a credit to you. Have a system. Take time. Keep your kitchen tidy. Don't let work accumulate from meal to meal or from day to day. It is astonishing how lazy and dirty some women are. We have seen young women on the street, dressed tidily and smartly, and we have gone into the homes of these women and have been disgusted and nauseated with their general appearance. There is absolutely no excuse for this, and a young wife who gets into the habit of being indifferent is a disgrace to her sex. She cannot hope for success or happiness.

Dusting and Cleaning.—Every home should be thoroughly cleaned once a week. A certain day should be selected for the purpose. A certain system should be followed. After it has been done a number of times, you will devise ways and means of doing it quicker, easier and better. New methods will suggest themselves from time to time, so, by planning and systematizing, you will get rid of the drudgery part, and there will be a constant incentive present to beat your past record. You must get rid of the feeling that it is uninteresting drudgery and slavery. A woman who looks upon her work in that light is not deserving of any better fate, and she will not get much further. If you are one of these perverse individuals who resent advice; if you object to being told the truth; if you do not want to profit by experience; if you are satisfied as you are, don't waste your precious time reading books. No author can tell you how to get something for nothing; no teacher can instruct others in anything. He can only awaken thought and arouse impulses. The law of life is harmony. An individual who wastes God's precious time in grumbling and fretting is the most pitiful object in the universe. Try to appreciate that you are part of the divine problem, regarding the conduct of which certain implacable laws have been formulated. To obey these laws means continued life, health, strength, power and success; to disobey them means weakness, sickness, incapacity, unhappiness, discontent and premature death.

Some people learn quickly how to conserve strength, how to systematize, how to be cheerful and hopeful and to radiate thankfulness. From a selfish standpoint this is the only method that pays. Some people will not see the point. They will put it aside by some such sophistry as: "Oh! it does not apply to me." It does, nevertheless, and probably at a later date, when the chance of achievement has withered, they will see the point through the mist of regret.

Work cheerfully, therefore, and be thorough. Don't overdo it. Fussiness is objectionable, useless and unhealthy, because it is a constant drain on nerve energy. Some women are dust-chasers. They are eternally poking into corners with a feather duster. They chase dust from one room to another and back again, and the sight of a few grains on the piano makes them sick. Dust with a moist cloth and when your dusting is over leave it and forget it. Don't buy a feather duster.

Don't get the anti-sunshine fad. Let the sun in. Don't pull your shades down to save the parlor carpet. Your husband would probably sooner buy another than pay for a funeral.

Air your rooms always, night as well as day. You cannot overdo it. Buy mosquito screens, keep the flies out, but let the air in.

The Ideal Home.—It is difficult to describe an ideal home, but we know one the moment we are in it. Its atmosphere instinctively breathes the personality of the home-maker. Its individuality distinctly differentiates it from the ordinary impersonal home. Its housekeeping dress is inviting; its furnishings harmonious; and it exhales repose, and comfort, and peace. When we meet its mistress we are welcomed in a low, gentle, cordial tone of voice, and in a manner which radiates honesty and unaffected simplicity. We discover the source of the unusual atmosphere. It is herself, the wife, the mother, the home-maker. She is the mystery of the ideal home. Each day her divine art grows more perfect because her heart is consecrated to the work. She may not be surrounded with material splendor. The miracle is in the soul she possesses. Love is the magic wand she yields. She loves her home, her children, her husband. She is the queen mother in the paradise she creates.

We have seen that a good housekeeper may not be a home-maker. Every home-maker, on the other hand, is a good housekeeper. The ideal home could not exist unless presided over by a home-maker. A home-maker necessarily implies being a good mother; but a good housekeeper, who is not a good mother, will never be a home-maker.

A good housekeeper will keep house for the art's sake and will resent any domestic event which upsets her housekeeping sense of decorum, even though the event may have splendid home-making possibilities. The mother with the home-making instincts will invite, and aid, and will conceive events, which, though they upset her housekeeping routine, will contribute to the happiness and edification of the home circle. The housekeeper's sense of duty ends when a good dinner is served; the home-maker's real duty and incidentally her pleasure begins, when dinner is on the table.

The Medical Essentials of a Good Meal Are: Pure food, judiciously selected for two reasons. First, that there may be an adequate daily variety—in order to stimulate the individual taste and appetite; second, that the food supplies may be adapted, in nourishing equivalents, to the work and age of the diner. The food must be thoroughly cooked, eaten slowly, and masticated with care and deliberation. Every meal should be served and eaten when cooked and ready. Food should never be allowed to stand when cooked to the proper degree. Overdone food is not desirable. The dishes should be heated to the proper degree; the table linen, napkins, etc., clean and fresh; and the family should all eat at the same time.

A meal should never be hurried. Interesting conversation is, therefore, a necessary and a commendable feature while dining. There is less desire or tendency to hasten through a meal when one is interested or is being entertained. The intervals between courses will be welcomed rather than resented under these circumstances, and the appetite will be keener and the enjoyment greater.

The wife and mother, who is the home-maker and consequently responsible for the esprit de corps of the family, will direct, suggest, and guide the conversation into profitable and interesting channels. By thus supplying the atmosphere necessary to the efficient eating of a meal, the digestion and the assimilation of the food will adequately take care of itself. Overeating is never a part of any meal and should be religiously avoided.

What Makes the Home.—We know it isn't the house we live in that makes the home. Many have lived in humble dwellings and have carried all through life the memory of home as a sacred legacy. Wealth does not make a home, nor culture, nor any of the intellectual attainments for which we may strive unceasingly. We may have all these and yet not know the joy of "home." "Home" conveys to every heart the same tender memories. To have known the blessings of a "home" is to be fortified for life's battles. No one can deny its importance in humanizing mankind. A boy who has never known what it was to have a home, whose substitute for the home associations was an "institutional mother," may have all the necessary potential qualities for success, but he will be forever deprived of the inspiration that memory of home kindles in every human soul.

The secret of the sources of home is its atmosphere. The atmosphere of home is the sum total of the kinship and sympathy radiated by its members. It is a tangible something which is capable of being felt, which is capable of inspiration and which is capable of being carried away into the years beyond, exerting a helpful influence over the milestones of worry, and trouble, and defeat; and it is always a fragrant, soothing, energizing influence. Every human heart needs the memory of a home and the presence of a friend at all times and in all places.

We must contribute our share to form the right kind of home-making "atmosphere." The two qualities which are essential to this task are sympathy and peace. Each contributor must be more than a negative unit in the home. It is not enough to simply desire peace—a deaf mute could fill that part. We must desire to please and we must be an active agency working for harmony and peace. If there is in our heart enough sincere affection for brother and sister, father and mother, the desire to please will be the bond of sympathy that will weather every temperamental storm. If we are eager to do something to lighten the load of another, eager to sacrifice self, to cheer and counsel and inspire, to leave unsaid some unkind word, to forget our own troubles in the larger trouble of a friend, we are home-builders. We must control our moods in the home, we must submerge the instinct of selfishness, of impatience, of pride, and of obstinacy. We must not be opinionated, we can many times conform to the opinion of others in trivial matters and preserve peace; we thereby minister to the happiness of others, because to give happiness is the surest way to be happy. Temper is the sting that poisons many homes. Its possessor is an impossible associate and will defeat the work of the angels in the effort to make homes.

Working for Something.—At various times we have emphasized the necessity of having definite plans, of "knowing exactly what you want," of "beginning wedded life with ideals"; in other words, we believe that to combine the maximum efficiency with the greatest degree of happiness it is necessary for all of us to "work for something."

It is not necessary to prove that the average human life is uninteresting; most of us know that. As a matter of fact the average existence is a monotonous, hopeless dreary stretch of time, dotted at more or less frequent intervals with physical pain and suffering, and with mental sorrow and anguish.

While this is undeniably a true epitome of the average life to-day, it is not to be accepted as the only possible average existence. Every agency that is working for the betterment of the conditions which surround life is helping to elevate the status of the average individual. As individuals, the question whether our life will conform to the average, or be individualized, rests with ourselves.

The ordinary average housewife's existence is slavery in its loneliest and most wretched form. Its utter hopelessness is its most depressing feature. If we could hope for some glint of sunshine, some day in the future when conditions would change, some circumstance which would give us the opportunity which we have never had, some test of our womanhood,—anything to relieve the crushing, hopeless inertia of the daily routine,—we imagine we could go on again, hoping that things would permanently change eventually. Don't "hope things will change." Change them! Don't get in a mental rut; don't be an "average" housewife. If you really can't do anything else, if things are so abjectly hopeless that there is no other way out, if your path is leading to nowhere, start a rebellion. When the smoke has cleared away you may see a new path to follow, and it may lead to somewhere. It is not necessary to do this often, because the fault is usually our own, and not that of environment or conditions, or our husbands. All we need to do is to think things over, and begin something, and all the other conditions will take care of themselves. The moment we step outside the humdrum path of existence, the moment we are curious enough to do this, there is hope for us. A little mental fresh air will dissipate a good many brain fogs. The instant we begin "working for something" definite, we cease to follow in the procession of the average helpless and hopeless citizen. So to the young housewife we would strongly suggest that she "think things over" and decide what she is going to work for.

Now, what will it be? Of course it will be different with each housewife. With many it will be "a home of our own." It may only be a piano for the children, or it may wisely be more insurance. Possibly you live in the country, and you long for the social and other advantages of the city. You may be a city wife and may long for a farm in the glorious country. It may be a trip to Europe; or a college education for the boy; or a musical career for the daughter. It does not matter what it is, the "it" is the thing itself, and, having found it, the world for you has changed. The lonesomeness, and the hopelessness, and the wretchedness of life have disappeared. There is always in the future the "it"; no matter how dark and gloomy the road may be, it is illuminated at the far end with the realized "it." It is the bearing of the burden of life that makes a wife, and when we have "something to work for" we begin to live. Love is the explanation. We don't want the home for ourselves. We want it for those we love, we want those we love in the atmosphere, which I, as mother, will make in "our home." It is the elemental mother that speaks,—the motherhood spirit that pours out eternally in self-sacrifice and keeps no debit account. It is the cry of the primal mother that echoes through all the ages and which has kept the race sane and safe and hopeful. Having something to work for supplies the element necessary to cheerfulness. In the darkest moments, when everything seems to go wrong, the thought that we can look forward to a time when a great change is coming, when we will move to the new home, when we go to the farm or the city as the case may be, or when John will finish his college course and start out as a lawyer,—when the strain of skimping and making ends meet is over we feel that the struggle will let up and we can rest in peace for a little while. It is sharing these burdens that counts, and brings out the best elements of human nature. The struggle of making ends meet draws the young couple closer together, and adds that touch of divinity that is essential to confidence and love. It strengthens character, curbs the tendency to unnecessary expenditure of money and time, and teaches frugality and patience. The incentive to win out is ever present, and it is the anchor that means final satisfaction and success.

Try to see the point. Work for something,—something worth while, and when you have once begun never turn back. "Nothing-succeeds like success."

Rest and Recreation—A young couple should find time for rest and recreation as well as for work. This part of the domestic problem should be carefully and systematically utilized, and just as faithfully carried out as any other part. Both husband and wife should participate in these hours of enjoyment, and the husband should assiduously try to make of these respites periods of real mutual benefit. No matter in what station of life one may be, it is always possible to find congenial means of passing many happy and profitable hours together, if the spirit of companionship and mutual interest is kept alive. It is the incessant strain upon the nervous system that constitutes the real danger of home life. The struggle to make ends meet; to keep the children neat and well fed; to look respectable; to provide clothing and education; to nurse the sick; to tolerate gossipy neighbors; to put up with ugly tempers; to meet the constant drain of society, business, politics and religion,—the wonder is that so few remain outside the lunatic asylums.

There are certain inevitable daily happenings in the life of every housewife that must be tolerated though they are not pleasant. A certain number of interruptions will come at the most inopportune moments. The children will come in with muddy feet and walk over the clean floor; some days the stove works splendidly, other days it acts as if it was crazy; the milkman is late to-day and too early to-morrow; some days the iceman comes, some days he stays away, and these are the days we want him most; the upstairs work is not quite done when cooking must be begun; the grocer forgot to send the butter; a dish or two will crack or break every day; doors will slam; the rain begins to fall just when the clothes are all hung out; baby needs nursing just when the pie must be turned; a visitor calls before the dishes are washed. These are inevitable. The cure does not lie in some impossible revolution. We must rest the nerves and take the strain off.

Try a nap in the middle of the day. Lie down and relax even if you do not sleep. In some countries this is a national custom. It should be a law in America. One cannot appreciate the amount of good that can be gained from one-half hour's sleep. Medically it is a wonderful rejuvenator.

Get enough sleep at night. Late hours in the home is a bad habit and a poor investment. It affects the health and the efficiency. One extra hour means all the difference between frayed-out nerves, exasperated dispositions and home peace and contentment. There is a certain fixed ratio between sleep and good nature that has been formulated into a law by psychology. Keep early hours and the whole complexion of life will improve.

When indoor work becomes irksome go out of doors, try a walk. Nothing will dissipate tired-out nerves quicker than a brisk walk. Every housewife should walk in the open air every day of her life. It is an absolute necessity if she hopes to retain her health and spirits. She will be in better shape and in a better mood to carry out her part of the daily programme.

Take a vacation now and then. Go to the seashore or into the mountains. When a housewife is run down and irritable; when the disposition comes to indulge in a lonely cry; when she wishes she had never been born; when the cook stove and the children are hysterical irritants; it is time for a day off. The husband should find time to take his wife into the country for a week end, even a day at the seashore will work like magic.

Resting and recreation are necessary. If we do not recognize this fact, and adopt the habit as a preventative, we will be compelled to take it in an effort to cure a malady that has established itself as a consequence of the neglect. It, therefore, is a time and money saver, and it saves friction, and home, and maybe life.

Life Insurance.—Every young wife should insist upon her husband carrying life insurance upon his own life. She should make this a part of the prenuptial agreement. We would go further and state that a man who will not willingly agree to this is not a safe man to marry. The kind of insurance is immaterial, so long as it guarantees to the wife an adequate sum of money in the event of his premature death. The wife should regard the payment of the premiums as one of the necessities, and should personally know that they are promptly paid.

Owning a Home.—It should be the hope of every married couple to own their own home. It has been the regret of many, when in later years they have figured up the money which they have spent in rent, that they did not think of this plan earlier. Nowadays, it is possible to pay a very small sum down, and certain monthly payments, which apply on the purchase of a house. By beginning this way, when the family expenses are small, it is comparatively easy, and without any deprivations, to own the home outright in a few years. Many couples foolishly buy gaudy and unnecessary furniture, and live in more expensive homes than their means justify, in order to create an impression, when first married, which they later regret. If part of the money, which the young husband has undoubtedly saved,—or he should not marry,—was paid down on the purchase of a house it would be paid for before the extra expense which necessarily comes with children had to be met. The plan works to the advantage of the couple both ways, because, if no rent has to be paid out after a few years, the extra expense of children would not then be a hardship.

The Cheerful Wife and Mother.—How many happy memory pictures we see by simply reading the name,—the cheerful wife and mother,—we might call her the optimistic mother. No matter what we did as children, we were never afraid of her. She always saw the bright side, and if we did something wrong she never scolded angrily; she talked to us convincingly and made us slightly ashamed of ourselves. If we had any plan or project we took it to her, she listened, and she suggested, and before we knew it she had solved our problem and the plan was possible,—away we would go, enthusiastic and happy, to work out the details as she suggested, and shortly our "party was on its way." If any of us had an accident,—we didn't go home, we were afraid of a scolding,—the victim was rushed to her, she would wash the blood and tears away, bathe the wounded part, put on a bandage and then take the little patient up to her room. A cake and a story would soon have us feeling good and help us forget our pain. Oh! she was an angel to us. On rainy days she found a way to amuse us, our dirty feet didn't count, the floor was to be washed up anyhow. To keep in her good graces, however, we had to be reasonably good. She told us stories, and we soon found out that she didn't like a mean or stingy boy, and a boy or girl who would tell a lie she would not talk to for a week. Her stories always proved that the mean boy, or the bad little girl, or anyone who told lies, never had a good time, that no one liked them, and most everybody kept away from them, if they didn't stop being bad. She was a wonderful mother, and every boy and girl for miles around knew her and loved her.

And so it is that children soon learn who their real friends are. A home is what the mother makes it. Cheerfulness does not cost anything, and how much better it is if happiness abounds. You can get infinitely more of the confidence of a child by being gentle, and by showing that you have his or her real interest at heart. They will trust you more and rely upon your forbearance in the event of anything going wrong. As we boys and girls grew up the interest of the angel mother didn't cease; we met her often, and she would ask "how things were going." She knew exactly what each of the boys and girls was doing, and we always told her the truth, and all the truth. If anything did go wrong, she would know of it from one of the others, and she would "look up" the unfortunate one. Many times to my knowledge she has helped another mother over a crisis; when a boy was about to go wrong or showed a tendency to do some foolish thing. She did so because she "had a way" of getting round the boy, that even his own mother did not possess, and he would listen. A mother who can preserve her own cheerfulness under all circumstances is a jewel. The influence she wields is beyond estimation. A radiant cheerfulness is something akin to Christlikeness, it is an inspiration. People who live together frequently feel out of sorts in the presence of each other without a feeling of compunction, without realizing that they are guilty of a social discourtesy. If there is in that home an optimistic, cheerful mother, how different the atmosphere is! The cross look, or the touchy word, is quickly observed and all the power of her infectious cheerfulness is brought into battle array and the discontent is chased away, the vitriolic spirit of quarrel, slumbering so near the surface, is made to feel ashamed of itself. It shrinks into the darkness, and we begin the day all over again, thankful that mother is so good, so considerate and patient.

It isn't exactly by the children that such a mother is best appreciated. Father knows the real value of her cheerfulness. He knows just what it has meant in the past, and he knows what it means now. He can look back and he can recall many instances in which the optimism of his wife was the agency which turned the tide. He knows of many business deals wherein the cheerful advice of his wife changed his viewpoint and so changed failure into success. He can recall many instances during the early days of his business career when the outlook was gloomy and doubtful, when its success depended upon so small a matter as temperament and disposition, when the cheerfulness, the love and tact of his wife dispelled the gathering clouds, strengthened the wavering spirit and instilled new fight, new purpose, new hope, into the situation. Oh, yes, he knows that cheerfulness, and optimism, and tact, and love, have a definite economic value, but it cannot be estimated in dollars and cents. He knows they are an asset in the domestic problem, but they are sacred, holy, consecrated.

Cheerfulness is such a potent reality that it has a definite, concrete value. Life is a product of environment to a very considerable extent. Our surroundings very often dictate our attitude, and temperamentally at least we radiate whatever spirit our environment generates.

HEREDITARY FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS[B]