SOLVED AT LAST.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 385, 9 August 1911, Page 7

SOLVED AT LAST.

THE DOMESTIC PROBLEM. ! A MALE MARY ANN. j The usual crowd of unemployed thronged the pavement in front of the registry office the other morning, says the "Sydney Sun," eagerly scanning the list of "wanteds." It was the customary nondescript crowd, principally youths but with the inevitable sprinkling of anxious-lokoing middleaged men - a crowd that was unskilled, probably, to a man. And the prospects of employment before them on the board were not satisfactory—to judge by the comments.. "Wish'd I was a married couple or a barmaid," said a neatly-dressed youth, discontentedly, to a ditto companion.

"Or a housemaid or si cook, or a Oh, darn it all, here's nothing but women wanted here," said the other. "Don't look as if there's anything left for us but take on a general's job," said youth No. 1. "Take it on, take it on," said a dapper young man who had stopped to listen. He looked prosperous and comfortable, and his boots were neat and not down to heel like those of the others present. "Take it on," said the newcomer. "I did. I used to do a perish up and down these registry offices every morning, and loaf about the city hungry all day, and battle for a doss at night. But not now. I've got as snug a joint as a single man wants, and I'm saving money. Oh, yes, I took it on, and I've never been sorry for it. I'm a 'good useful general with no objection to washing,' I •am, and in three years 1 reckon to be able to put £l5O into a business. I can stand it that long, anyway." "What? asked one of the youths. "Take a woman's job? Rot!" "We in petticoats, with a white cap! No! The Domain first!" said his companion. "All right," said the newcomer, as he moved off. "Stay where you are, and perish and starve. I'm not too nroud to take a start when it's offered me."

"Good old Mary Ann," sneered one of the boys. And they both laughed, in a superior sort of way, and then feli once more to scanning the ail insufficient "wanted" placards, sadly and without hope.

But a pressman who had been looking out for information about the unemployed, and who bad overheard the male Mary Ann's strange remarks, started briskly after that interesting personage. With this result: "THE ONLY THING LEFT." "I came here from Tasmania, ten weeks ago. It's reported over there that Sydney's overflowing with money. And that is not the case in Tasmania. I was a whole miserable month looking for work. The only job I was offered was that of a lift-boy at a club. Couldn't afford it. It got'so bad I took a job splitting logs in the mud at a wood yard for Is 8d a ton. But the boss kept saying he wanted that wood b?fore the summer started. So I left. Then I tried the Labour Bureau. They offered me work on a fa-m at nothing a week. Couldn't afford that either. Next I tried the wharves. But they won't let a fellow work there unless he's in the union, and I had no cuin left. Every morning I was at the 'poverty parade' alung Elizabeth street. But there was never anything there that I could do. And it's a job that makes a man sick inside, that one of waiting, and hoping, and getting nothing, and wondering where it "s ail going to end. "I was down to one 4d meal a day and a 6d doss, and only enough for another three days of that, when I got my idea. It seemed to be the only thing left. Nobody wanted anything but 'good generals,' and things like that; and they seemed to be pretty scarce. I concluded to be a general. A TRYING TIME. "I don't know now how I had the hide. But I'm glad I did. And there's some others glad, too. Well, I just put all ordinary feelings right out of my head, and started. Cut out the likeliest-looking of a big row of wanteds in the paper and did footsack.

"The first place was about as big as Government House, so passed that didn't want to be a general where there were half a dozen women work-

ing. The next place they kept a housemaid, and passed that, too. Then came to a place where there were no other servants, but the family was a big one. I was scared of that. I thought I'd have been right at a place where there was only Mr and Mrs. They hadn't been married long; but Mrs had different thoughts threatened to send for the police when I offered to take the job on. Never saw a woman get so hot and excited over nothing. At last—and it was time, because I wjs beginning to feel that my hair was coming down, so to speak, and that it must be looking draggled— I struck it.

"It was a big cottage, where two old ladies lived with their brother, middle-aged gentleman. They had had one servant for centuries, and she had gone dead on them at last. I got the gentleman's address in the city, and tramped in. It would have bothered me to apply to any more women. But I thought I could convince a man. And I did. He was in his office. A GLIMPSE OF THE IDEAL.

" 'You're wanting a general servant?' I said. " 'We are; very much,' he said, looking interested. " 'One that can work hard, 3crub, wash clothes, polish brass work, sweep out, clean a yard, do plain cooking, wait at table, chase tramps " 'Yes, yes,' says the gentleman, turning his screw-chair right round and beginning to look excited. " 'One thst will always be pretty cheerful, won't bring men hanging round the place, and don't want to go out at night scarcely, but'llbe a pretty reliable protector to the ladies when you go out.'

"My good man,' he says, sort of sadly, 'you are describing something that does not exist, I am afraid.' " 'But it does exist,' I said, sort of desperate — because it was coming, now, and I'd set my heart on gutting this job. 'lt does exist, and it's strong and healthy,' I said. 'lt's stmiiing here, in front of you, now,' I said. "Well, it took him a minute to soak it in. But I didn't wait.

" You give me this job sir, I Fiid, ' 'you'll never regret it. You'll hav» none of the trouble and nonsense with a man that you have with womenfolk. Isn't the neat, living, civil male barman better than the painted don't-care-for-anyone barmaid? It's only a matter of getting used to it. Your work, Ml be better done than any woman could do it. Give it a trial and see. I need a home, and you need help at your place. I'm ready to start now.'

"Well, sure enough, he was surprised. But the more he thought of it the better he liked it—anyone could see that.

"Then I fired the last shot in the locker.

" 'l'm a pretty good gardener,' I said, 'was brought up in a big garden. And yours needs looking after. Y. ou won't know it in a month.'

"He got right up and reached for his hat. 'Come along with me,' he says. So off we go home, and he puts it to the old ladies. Well, after the first gasp or so they cottoned to the thing cheerful and pleased. I showed good papers, so it was fixed, and there I was, 'useful general,' 25 bob and found.

"And I've never been better found. The work's easy—to a man. Lots of it's too heavy for a woman, anyhow. And my people could not be more pleased than they are. Nicest old ladie3 I ever knew. They do all the cookir.g—it's a hobby with them, and they've nothing else to do. Ido the hard work—and they're always getting surprised about the things I make to do it with. The gentleman he says he never knew what a comfortable meal at home was till the man waiter came. Oh, they treat me well. "And I'm learning to drive a motor car, in case I get bumped ouc in the street again, ever. No more being without a trade for me. I can save £1 a week easy. They provide me with white drill clothes for the house. And all I can make out of the garden is mine, and it's going to be something. " "How do you get on with the tradespeople? Does not the ribald butcher boy scoff and the baker's youth say the thing that is rude and that hurts?" asked the pressman. "Not any more,' said the male Mary Ann, and the shrewed eyes twinkled.. There were incidents at the start. But now—well, there isn't a house in the district that's as well served. I'll bet on that. Well, so long. I must skip. This is marketing day, and I'm making for the stores.