"WHY WOMEN, INTEND TO GO ON WORKING."

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 163, 7 April 1916, Page 3 (Supplement)

"WHY WOMEN, INTEND TO GO ON WORKING."

THE JOY OF SOMETHING TO DO EVERY DAY. By of "Tire Daily Mirror." ("W.M." is a shrewd philosopher, and apprehensive male readers will find a few crumbs of comfort in his 4 summing*up.) I could not help being gently amused as I found myself next lier, early one morning of last week, in the tube, going down to business. At least, I was going down, to business. And she? What was she doing at that hour, so fresh and pretty in her furs? She had often told me that in winter "no right-thinking woman ought to have to get up till ten." I believe she has about £BOO a year of her own. Therefore, she could afford net to get up until ten ic the winter.

Naturally I alluded to the subject at once: "What are you doing here at this hGur, may I ask?" "Going to work." "Ah, war work!" "Well, isn't that as ccod as any ether work " She may have jeen about to add: "Yours, for instance," when I stopped her by complimenting her on her war work and telling her how well she looked with it. A tube isn't a place to talk, but, whenever we stopped at a station and got comparative silence, by intervals, in rapid confidence. she told me all about \t: "I don't know, of course, whether I look well, but I feel well —I feel better. I believe it's because I've something to do every day." "But you were always frightfully busy before the war!" "I know-' I had no time for anything. My excuse for not doing anything that mattered was always: 'I haven't time.' Now I find I've just as much time for the ordinary things as ever before. And yet I'm busy all day long. "At first, I didn't think I could bear it —the getting up and being there every morning punctually. The rather stuffy room and the other people. The other women. I kept on telling myself that I would'nt go on a week longer—or only cne weeklonger. Next week' (I said) I will give it up. I can't stand it. I'm not strong enough. It will kill me. 1 shall die.

"Then I got up again and went down once more and got" through another day. "Gradually, I eame rather to like it. Next, I began to enjoy it. Now, I positively look forward to it. Soon I shall not be able to do without it. ! intend never to give it up."

"What do you mean? The war won't go on for ever." "I shall." "You mean, you'll take up work of your own?" "Certainly. I shall do something. I've never used my energies till now. I've ir.cped and thought I was ill. I find lam very clever. I've done good work. I intend to do better. And the best of it all is that my work my leisure time so precious! I now enjoy every moment of it. Formerly it oored me" Great heavens! If they all intend to go ou working after the war, these gallant, prosperous women, what chance for js men, or for the poorer women? These people who discovered the uses cf work as a nerve cure will w.int no money. They'll work on for work's sake. Imagine tne effect on waaes: But perhaps, after all, they won't. She lcoked determined as she spoke; yet somehow 1 felt that when some after-war spring blossoms with sun and blue sky, she'll want her usual "holiday"—the whole of whose life is a holiday—in Florence or Seville or Algiers. She'll want Paris in the spring. Cannes after Christmas. She'll never stick to it! We needn't be afraid—we slave:-. Or perhaps—another possibility! perhaps she might be persuaded to give us—l mean me—her £BOO a year, while she works and we take her holiday?