A WOMAN'S WORK.

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1072, 13 August 1883, Page 3

A WOMAN'S WORK.

The female mind is a mazy conundrum which, though impossible of solution, it isn’t best to give up ! While sealed in my office the other day trying to convince myself that a lie well told was almost as good as a shabbily dressed truth, a,lady with much back hair and false friz stepped in and inquired if 1 was present. I told her that a large share of me was there, but that the thinking portion principally was seated on a solar spot gathering fresh spectra. (I calculated that would be a stunner, but she didn’t stun !) , “Is there enough of you here to grasp a thought?” said she, as she sank into a chair in such a manner as not to crush — the chair. “Yes, a small one,” said I, “but not enough to bnckle on to anything heavy like the theory of dynamics-” “ Well,” she inquired, as she began to unbutton her ulster, “ what of woman’s work ?” “Alas I” said I transposingly, women must work and men must weep.” “No ! seriously now,” she exclaimed, “ I want to do some great work so as to leave ‘ footprints on the sands of time.’ ” “ Ah, yes !” I soliloquized. You scatter tracks for evermore, But leave the heel marks towards the door. “ What number do you wear ?” I continued. “Two’s and a half,” said she blushingly, drawing one foot out of sight as a mudturtle does his head ; “ but you are trifling with me ! lam strong, loving and capable, and I long to throw my energies into some great work, and be doing good to humanity.” “ My dear madam,” said I, “ the large contracts for well doing are nearly all taken ! Susan B Anthony has taken the European contract, and the recent supply of female workers in South Africa has been more than equal to the demand. A red-headed woman recently left Moscow for Khiva (overland) who will probably be able to let her light shine all over Central Asia, while convict labour covers Australia and the steppes of Siberia, and the Amazons have got control of transportation throughout the entire length of the Amazon River, which bars out all other female labour in South America. There is one field, however, which is still open to your sex, and to it I would direct your attention.” “Oh! tell me! tell me I” she cried, “and bid surcease to my soul sobbings and labour longings.” “Go home,” 1 continued, “and try your hand at making your little domestic circle so bright and cheerful that your husband and children won’t want to spend their evenings away from it! Mend up their clothing ; sew on their buttons, and make home a place that they will love to linger in. Then your children will not come up street gamins, or your husband a hotel loafer. Then posterity will rise'up and call you blessed, and for your labour you would receive a reward to which the eclat of a rostrum-seeking virago is as a penny bun to a square meal,”