Woman's World

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 120, 14 October 1914, Page 6

Woman's World

NERVES OR NERVE? "Tm getting tired of it," said Amy to her roorc mate, aB she: prepared for work on Monday morning. "The perpetual clacks-tele of the typewriter is getting on ray nerves," Her friend looked at her sympathetically, butj being a wise young woman in her generation, she ventured on no stereotyped advice, such as is usual!}' i given wlien a person rebels against the I things that be.

On tho contrary, she strove to lead the conversation into another, channe', without altogether ignoring the opening remark.

"How often we hear that remarkgetting on one's nerves,' nowadays. The present generation have, discovered that they have nerves. Our forefathers had nerve.' Have you ever considered ■what a difference there is between the two?"

Amy looked across the room at her friend. "Arc you lecturing me?" Lydia smiled. She had roused her! "You know I never lecture anyone. But I would like you to tell me what you really think makes you so tired on Sunday and so languid on Monday morning. Is it office work?" "I suppost it is," she said, half hesitatingly.

"How many nignts were you out last week?" .

"Oh, surely one must have some amusement after the day's work is over!" protested Amy. "You came home on Monday nighttired out—after the dance, and declared that it was a very tame affair.

"On Tuesday you went to the pictures and yawned nearly all through the entertainment. On Wednesday you had a headache and lay down (with a novel for company) all the evening. On Thursday you went to a theatre party and endured a dreadful crushing before getting in, and on Friday night you wont around the shops until you were 'fit to drop'—to seo your own expression. Now, which is tho most tiring—typing in an office for a stated number of hours, or gadding about to so-called amusements, that really don't amuse you at all, but rather weary you, and unfit you for work?" '

"What would you have mo to do in my spare time!" "Enjoy yourself rationally—real'.y enjoy yourself! Forget all about the office and typewriter, and seek to build up body and brain. When you are off work relax thoroughly, and you will find yourself talking less of things 'getting 'on your nerves.'" "I'll never use the expression again—at least in your presence!" said 'Amy, with a rueful smile. "I had no idea you were such an observant person. Nearly all the girls go out every night—how could one sit at home every eveuing and 'relax,' as you call it, until work next morning? They would soon become insane!"

"Probably they would," agreed Lydia, dryly. "But 1 did not suggest sitting indoors as a remedy for 'nerves.' The best thing working girls can do is to get out in tho sunlight as much as possible. As a general thing they get too little of it—that is the reason bo many of them look anaemic. They take I lunch and a book with them to work,and sit in some quiet corner during the lunch hour reading and munching, instead of taking a brisk walk outside for even ten minutes. When evening comes they usually hurry home, oat a hasty meal, and prepare for some festivity. It is no wonder they yawn over their work during the day. On Saturday afternoons it is the same—tliey mostly go out to swell the crush at a football match, or attend some entertainment under electric light." ■ "It is always easy to criticise. To suggest something superior would be cleverer," declared the aroused Amy shortly. ; "I am coining to that," returned l.ydia composedly. 'M have been dwelling on the subject, in my mind, for some time past. We hear a good deal of people being sweated by employers, but in most c:ises they arc self-sweated. The hours spent it work are not nearly sn severe on girls as the hours spent in chasing (so-called) amusement. 1 am sure of it. Working girls «ant eight or nine hours' restful sleep. They want three good nourishing meals a day, and tliey want outdoor exercise and amusement at intervals, too. If they looked after themselves properly There would be less complaints about nerves and unfeeling employers. Why. they can't do justice to their work if they are fired through knocking themselves up needlessly. And yet tliey resent any reprimand from their employer if work is carc'essly done, and denounce him as a sweater. ]f girls sweated themselves less they would not earn reprimands for ilbdr.no or careless work. Regular work sloulit be a pleasure to young people, not accepted as a punishment to be continually cavilling at." '•l'm waiting for the .suggestion of how to spend one's time when oil' duty," said Amy impatiently. '"Don't shed any tears over the employers; they take care of themselves, 1 am sure. That detestable Uigpursy snapped me up dreadfully hist Friday been use I overlooked a'letter which In; said was urgent, I was dreadfully tired, too, that day after the theatre party the night before, and my ribs wire (|iiite sore from the crushing I'd irot." , , , '.-JS.O ■ ■ '■, " ■*<%■ l.ydia laughed at her friend's vehemence. '-.Vow, liu-re are my suggestions for working girls. Whether you approve of them is another matter. I think myself tliey are sensible and practical. Rise at a regular hour every morning and ■eat a good breakfast. If you take

lunch with you, pack up something appetising and nourishing (chiefly fruit); do not read while you are eating,' but immediately you've finished go out for a ten minutes' walk. When you come home after work is over for the day, have a bath and change your outdoor attire before taking dinner. Eat Blowly, and.enjoy your food. Make it a rule to go out nearly every evening—not necessarily to dances or picture shows, but frequently to gardens, parks, etc. Take a book or sewing with you whe« tho evenings are long, and you will return feeling 'real good.' When you decide to go to a theatre, go to a good play. Leave cheap entertainments alono, if you only go once in a while you can ulTord to pay for a good scat and avoid the crush and its after effects. On fln« Saturday afternoons I would BUggeßt a i'fif girls clubbing together and having a jiicnic in the gardens; or, if the weather were unfavorable for that, a trip to the gardens or some indoor public place, with "l'ternoon tea as a wind-up. There are several delightful spots about well worth risiting, if girls clubbed together occasionally and made little excursions afield. Then during the summer months there are bay excursions. What could be iiealthier or more delightful? Girls require to club together more, and plan out their own amusement. I have a good mind to organise a rational amusement club for girls. Will you join?" Amy laughed, as she pinned on her hat nofore the mirror. You are quite an advanced woman, Lydia?" Will you call it the Adamless Eden?" she suggested mischievously. "I believe you'd have (he nerve!" .

Lydia laughed good-naturedly. "Better to have nerve than nerves,"—Melbourne Age.

IMPRESSIVE SIGHTS IN LONDON. Very interesting are the memories of those women, who hav« just returned from England, and to one of these I was a koen listener recently (writes the lady editor of the Wellington Post). In spite of much that one mis9ed, London liad proved to her intensely impressive. The women, like our women here, set to work at once with fervid enthusiasm, glad to use their fingers for the Empire. Conventional harriers were broken down and class distinctions set at naught.in the common patriotic aim. My friend began to talk to a woman in <a tramcar and found she was buying shirts wholesale for the soldiers. Everywhere were women gathered together hard at work sewing, cutting out, knitting, making up medical comforts. The Polytechnic was utilised as a depot for the latter, and there my friend discovered a New Zealand girl who instead of the art she is so clever at, 7iad spent days tearing bandages until she declared she felt as if she had turned them into a roll herself. And yet th: composure and restraint of London are wonderful/Many partings are to be seen,/but very seldom tears, although often little episodes were evident that showed how deep was the sorrow. The large shops are almost empty, and the smart saleswomen find time iiang heavy on their hands. Very few people drive in the parks—indeed, the parks arc given up to the military. About tho Round Pond there is a camp, and tents are pitched in Hyde Park and St. James's Park. Where, the children used to play, horses are picketed, and all the autumn glories form settings to munitions of war. The patience and good temper of the London, crowd is amazing, even in this time of awful tension, and the masses that, surge about the railings of Buckingham Palace wait for hours to catch a glimpse of His Majesty, whiling away time with songs of loyalty, ami patriotism, and waving ilags with untiring energy. In the I throng were to be seen men and women of a'l classes, in evening dress and in rags, from mansion, country house, shop, and tenement. The theatres are as empty as the shops, in spite of the entreaties in the press to people to support industries and amusements. It is natural that folk should be cautious about spending, for living lias become more expensive. The owner of the large boarding house! where my friend stayed announced her intention to raise the tariff. Hut the boarders resisted, and proposed, instead, that the fare shoulil be made simpler. It was interesting to watch from day to day tlie reduction of the menu—first the Mowers went—and, bye the bye, the ilower-girls now sell flags instead of blossoms, flag? stuck in ">anana stalks. Then the dessert was missing, and next eggs were banished from the bill-of-fare. There was a melancholy excitement in guessing what would be the next.item to go. Spies were found everywhere, states my informant. There was a fascinating widow who had lived for years near Richmond, and entertained largely.' Among her guests she had many young .naval and military officers. One Sunday afternoon she was arrested, and in her house were found many plans arid incriminating letters, and plain evidence that she was in the service of the German (iovcrnment. My friend would go every day to Fleet street and watch the war news unrolling itself on the tape. Dense crowds were there, hut no one was allowed to stand longer than it took to read the message. Policemen forced them to move on. So my friend used to walk on a few paces, turn, and come back—perhaps in time to seo the next message. By thus walking constantly »1> and down the limited area, she satisfied her curiosity, and flic requirements of the law. There was sudi demand for horses that often tho most unlikely animals were commandeered. ,'An elderly lady had an old garden horse that, despite her assertions that it would be no use, was taken. A London carrier, hoping to retain his horses, scattered them all over the city.' liut the military authorities knew the number of them, tracked them down and appropriated

them. My friend was fortunate enough to be at Folkestone when the first two German prize ships were brought in. The number of Boy Scouts is extraordinary. They are put to a hundred uses, and are a valuable factor in tho military scheme. A motor-ride in England to-day is fraught with excitement and thrilling possibilities for there is always a chance of having to give up your car to the authorities and find your way homo fey train or other means, and besides the roads are guarded by soldiers. Every culvert, corner, bridge has its knot of military, and here, too, the Boy Scouts arc prominent. It is all very unusual and picturesque, but in the quiet autumn beauty of England this year it never allows one to forget the horrors that are taking place on the Continent. And yet, in spite of the'tension and sorrow, the infinite sacrifice and anguish of farewell, there is rfiuch that, makes an Englishwoman lift her head high in exultation and pride. The patience, the self-restraint, the calm sense of patriotism, and absence of rancour and brag—the silent loyalty that acts, not talks —all these the returned traveller cannot overpraise. England in her hour of trial is behaving magnificent!^