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THE SUNDAY CALL. 6 TRIALS OF THE WOMAN WHO WORKS By Kate Thyson Marr. This Is the First of a Series of These Famous Letters, Which Have Created a Tremendous Sensation Both , in America and Europe, to Be Printed in the Sunday Call. The Second, Next Sunday, Will Be * / #.n* *— \r* %w n %m (L- A \jF M MQ ' * ' • THE ORACLE OF MULBERRY CENTER By S. E. Kiser. PwniBMBm E hear an awful lot of talk about \ ¦ SFSP^&r^Sfl l^ c sc tt~ assert » v< ?h css °f the woman \ Ifc2i S^uS/ExE wJl ° ' vvor^ s ' * >ut * confess that in my IliviU^ ui^*H o P' n i° n £ he ' s often more sinned < l*r^^J$rt.l course, there are all sorts and | 1 ficSs's^iSia H kinds of people, but women who . IkanBBBUKaal ' iave had to learn in a measure the lesson of self-control are apt to be re-' flcctors of the treatment they receive. ! About the hardest lot that can befall one woman js the 1 necessity of having to work for another, and this is the > rtason that servants so frequently rebel. A woman is more * petty, enters more into details and will make fewer allow- ' auces for another than will a man. Besides, while a man ir.ay swear and get so mad that he can hardly contain him self, yet his bluster will blow over and a woman can laugh at it and his exhibitions of temper, while the cool, in cisive jab of another woman would set her wild. If you let a man alone, giving him time to blow off his pent-up tteam, he will simmer and sizzle down most beautifully, but rot so a woman; she wiil keep it up and chew the rag for cays at a dead stretch. ' A man will get mad and say a lot of real bad words, but he nvill not become personal, while a woman will reap up all that she knows, good, bad or doubtful, that another wo man ever did or did not do from her cradle up. One very funny case, where a man whose business makes \ him rather dependent on his stenographer, has a little way ' of discharging her every time that he gets ruffled. The next morning she as regularly appears at her desk and tells, rum that she will only stay until he finds some one to take her place. He blusters and tells her that he won't have her around, when the fact is that he would be at a dreadful ' loss were she to take him seriously. On one occasion she did absent herself for several days, when he took a carriage and went after her himself. Wo man-like, she forced him to gulp down huge lumps of hum ble pie before she consented to return. ' Now, under such circumstances, a woman would act so petty telling the other about seventeen times a day that she "was glad enough to get back" that the position would ' be unbearable; while this girl has sense enough to know 1 that she has sized him up most perfectly and understands him so well that it would be a hard matter for him to re place her. Then, too, a woman hates to make a change after she has once been broken in to a man's ways. The most pitiful woman among those forced to earn a livelihood are the women who havc seen better days. t Such women are, as a rule.^-ery helpless until misfortune > develops them; meanwhile it is a bitter task to become as- ] similated to surroundings. The lesson is a hard one to ' learn, and is taken to heart through a pathway of tears. \ People seem to resent the intrusion of a refined woman t who seeks work, and such a one is treated with a coldness > amounting to incivility. ] A refined woman who finds herself suddenly confronted ' with the problem of self-support merits all the graciousness \ that good breeding accords, and yet she seldom receives it. Rich women dislike dealing with such a one, giving the < excuse that it is embarrassing to give orders to one whom ( they cannot but acknowledge an equal both by birth and | breeding. This may be very true, as there can be no ques- , tion that the employed is often far superior to the employer, which should be to her credit, but it surely is never to her' advantage. Let such a one try to make use of any accora- I plishment or skill in certain lines, and the richer the woman \ patron the meaner is she apt to be when it comes to the, question of compensation. Many of us have heard women abundantly blessed with ' this world's goods unblushingly boast of the pittance paid ( for some exquisite piece of workmanship done by the wo- \ man who must rely upon her skill for a living, and the cold- < blooded manner in which a woman tells laughingly of such ] bargains is little less than shame. ' Women work either through necessity or the love of in- 1 dependence, but a woman of refinement would never work! for other women unless it were a question of direst ncces- 1 tity. When I hear women discussing the incivility of shopl girls I am constrained to think that if they would stand for ( an hour or so at a shop counter and listen to the arrogant / rudeness of shoppers and note the total absence of consid- ] eration, thcy would feel sorry for the girl rather than for' the shoppers. If one approaches one of these tired standing < women, who are not allowed to sit down during the hours { cf labor, politely and with a smile, they are very apt to be i met with an answering smile. * If you have a penchant for studying character, watch one^ of these girl's faces as women file up to be waited on. { One woman approaches with a supercilious hard-cash air { and gives her order as if afraid of microbes or some other | dark and yellow contagion. The girl is polite and obliging. ! Then there looms in sight another who perhaps is equally' well groomed, but wears a pleasant smile with her good < clothes, and immediately the girl's face is transfigured. The \ las* woman sits at the counter, leans over, and while the girl t displays samples of her wares she tells her some pleasing ; anecdote, and the girl looks perfectly happy, as if an electric { light had been turned on beyond the wall of her face and< shone through it. Now, I do not think it lessens a woman's dignity, no matter who or what she may be, or how much cold cash she may command, to be pleasant to these tired little women, who earn more than they will ever get this side of heaven. Many of them are little less than angels, or they would not be able to cope with the purse-proud, dis agreeable women who file in with their noses in the air as if sniffing an abattoir rather than seeking pretty things in a busy mart And the newspaper woman. Let us pray for her. At a recent large public function my chojer was aroused by the rude snubbing of some women anent the pretty little ' representative of a local paper. She timidly approached' seme ladies in quest of names and descriptions of the hand- \ some gowns -worn. Being a stranger myself, it was im- , possible to assist her, but the rudeness of one woman aroused me to champion her at all hazards. "Don't bother with her," said one matron who figures ' largely in philanthropic schemes. , "Look here," I put in, "that child has her living to make 1 and she must turn in her story to-night before the morning paper goes to press. If she does not get it she will probably lose her job." The woman seemed rather ashamed then of her rude-' ness and called the girl back, treating her very graciously,! and she got her story all right. Now, while newspaper work is very fascinatin< in the main, yet the reporter of the lociety column often has a pretty hard time of it. When sent out she must get her 1 story, and if she does not the editor will tell her very plainly 1 that if she cannot he must find some one who can. Conse quently she is entirely dependent on the courtesy and good breeding of the ladies for information that she must obtain. If she is refined she is often hurt to the quick and snubbed' by women who cannot hold a candle to her either, in brains 1 or breeding, and her very culture . makes her more sensitive to slights. It is a very trifling matter for a society matron to treat such a one with courtesy when she is often glad enough to race after the editor, begging for notice to ad- 1 vertise her pet schemes. She would feel highly indignant 1 xtere she refused, yet she will try to snub the girl who rep resents his paper. Unless one has known society people so cially, the lot of the society reporter is not enviable by any means. . - ... -- - ¦ - HE remarkable fact has just been &7!D C^teS notc^ that within a short time two Wf/n f?0^1 great missionary organizations whose Hi IN If Ib9 operations cover the whole of the |k\\l] WJMi Unit . cd . States have selected as their K»So L^hIh administrative heads men over 60 years KSg>» fairaBqjfl of age. The action has caused sur —-¦ prise in some quarters, because the modern business world, and especially the modern ecclesiastical world, does not appear to have a surplus of remunerative positions for men who have passed the three-score milestone. In my judgment, 'one great reason why they were selected in . preference to; many younger competitors is that they possess a cer tain elasticity and sprightliness of spirit arid a great fund of cheerfulness. It has shone in their faces for many years and carried uplift to all who have come in contact with them. In the language of the street, their cheerfulness is a part of their stock in trade. Once a week I go to a club where the young man in charge of the coat room is a polite, capable, well appearing fellow. But he carries about with him an atmosphere of gloom from whose effects I do not recover for, several min utes after my brief business with him. To my feeble at tempts to open conversation he replies in monosyllables and with averted gaze. I am confident that were I on a board of directors considering his claims to promotion, I should ask "Why in the world is he so desperately morose? Is. not'this trait going to handicap him all his life?" . Making due allowance for inherited and temperamental tendencies, I nevertheless make bold to assert that cheer fulness can be cultivated just as easily and' to just T as great an extent as muscle- or memory. There is no event or inci dent of life from which it is impossible to ' extract some! reason for cheerfulness or hope. , Try the experiment to morrow morning. See if : there cannot be put -a favorable and an inspiring construction upon everything that- befalls you, or at least upon nine-tenths of the matters that make up the warp and woof of the day. If you can look at them cheerfully, if you can interpret them in a way to make yourself and those about you happier, then it is foolish, nay, wicked, for you to see only the distressing elements in the situation and to brood over them until all the joy and glory have vanished from the day. . ¦ More than such an attitude as that, . I honor the cool bravado of the man/ who, when things look bad. says satiri cally to himself arid his friends, "Cheer up, fellows, the worst is yet to come." Butv the. truth is in most cases the worst is not to come; worse may have already come to worst and from now on there is to be a turn in the tide. At least that is" a good working hypothesis anyway, and it may serve to keep a man steady and hopeful when he seems to be altogether hemmed in. ; .Deliver, me, however, from a mechanical kind of cheerful ness. No automatic smile, no forced gayety can take the place or accomplish the work of the inward joy. I remem ber that on one of those rare occasions in my, life when I visited the theater, the hero and the heroine in the play had a temporary disagreement. They parted in high drdgeon and. the. girl, after he left, went to the piano and sang sobbingly a song whose refrain was "Oh. I am so happy, I am so happy." The audience roared of course. And the great discerning wc-ld will always see through the person who puts -on a mask of cheerfulness. In the long run he will deceive nobody but himself. And I ambound to say in this "connection, not because I am a parson," but; because I believe it with all my heart, that theone great, source of unfeigned and abiding cheer fulness is religion. -To believe that there is a God and that He is near and fatherly and forgiving, that He holds our lives and the lives of ;the whole human family in his own wise and tender keeping,. and .that under, his guidance the lives'of all of us may. move on to happy issues— how such a faith begets and nourishes cheerfulness in a man. Phillips Brooks once said to a great congregation in Trinity-Church. Boston, "Oh, never "'despair of a world over, which God rules." Blest indeed is he who in the "darkest night can trust this power, for if he does cherish such" a trust, the morning will find him with a smile on his face. ULBERRY CENTER, June 291— Our mmmmmmmmmu ¦ nq carpenters have went on a strike and /L-j£-Sn *h e town seems a Rood deal like a fun /tfj^kjJS* eral. I haven't been able to find out IIIELHMlm exactly what's the matter with ths I &*^T H boyS) but thcy havc my sympathy - Its I (uLJLJsyj |B the fashion to always give people on a strike your sympathy. Sometimes other things would do them more good, but sympathy's better than nothin', and if there's anything that the average citizen who ain't neither one of the downtrodden millions nor yet a member of the bloated aristocracy has plenty of it's good, plain, old, everyday sympathy. Sometimes I can't hardly help wondering where us common people that don't belong to unions and ain't mem bers of any of the trusts get a show that's worth men tionin*. When times are hard and prices a^ "cheap we're s'posed to get out and whoop for the return of prosper ity so the business interests can shove up the cost of things. I don't blame the business interests for wantin' high prices, mind you, ncr the laborin' men for askin' for higher wages. That's all right so fur as they are con cerned, but where do us people that stand between the cap italists and the laborers come in? We don't get any more money than we had when times was hard, and they make us pay about three times as much for everything we cat and wear and have done. Still we're s'posed to yell for joy because the glad old prosperous days are back again. And we do it without a kick. When the tailors strike to have their share of the prosperity, which they'd' never git if they just waited around for capital to hand it to them, it's our duty to keep from comolainin' if the two sides that's fightin* each other over our heads happen to hit us a few good hard welts now and then. We can't blame capital, because we all have the good sense to realize that without the capitalists thU country would be like a wheelbarrow without the whceL So we respect the pusiness interests and stand up loy ally for their protection. But at the same time we know the laborer is worthy of his hire. If he didn't alwav* take it into his head to go to the polls and vote every time there's an election troin* on mebby we wouldn't think he was so blamed worthy of his hire. But we must be careful to keen his waees up while our party is in power or he'll vote for the other side the next time. If we let him do that we would be traitors to our glorious country, the land of the free and the' home of the brave, where everybody but peo ple who work for salaries and don't belong to unions or combines stands a fair show. So we must stand up for the protection of capital and sympathize with labor. Uncle Mark can tell you how to do itN Sometimes I can't hardly understand the way it works. Capital always has to stand up for principle by refusin' to grant labor's demands. Then labor strikes, and after a long, hard fight that makes lots of trouble for a good many people who are not to blame, labor gives in. Sometimes it seems to me as though principle mizht have been stood up for iust as well by lettin' the men have what they wanted at the start. But of course us common plugs of citizens that^stand between the two fighting classes can't expect to see through these things. After capital has fought till the stock of goods it had on hand is all eone it gets ti'-ed standing up for principle and r_ises prices so us peoole that do the buying will have to make uo what was lost by the delay. The extra that the strikers eit in wages is expected to be furnished by us, too, and it's never expected in vain. - ; ;' So we whoop for joy because the trouble is settled at last and prosperity has come once more to the community, and at the same time cuttin' ourselves down to a meal and a half a day so the children won't need to eo naked. It's terrible srlorious. We praise the ttrikers because they struck for their rights, we stand up for capital because we can't deny that it has the right to run its business to suit itself, and we git clubbed from both sides and pre tend we like it Here is my brother-in-law, Joe Parker, gittin' a new house built with money he's been savin' up for about twenty-seven years. The strikers have struck, not because they have anything 1 agin Joe, but a contractor over in one of the adjoinin' counties didn't'treat his men right and a general tie-up's been ordered to punish him. Toe ex pected to eit into his new home next week and give uo the house he'd been rentin'. If his place is finished by Christ mas he'll be in luck. Between now and the time he can move in he must take his family to some boardin* house or hotel, so it'll cost him about four times what it would to keen house. I met him yesterday and h« was lookin' kind of blue. "Joe." says I. "you must take 1 lensible rtcw of this thing. There's no doubt in my- mind that the contractor who started this trouble is a mighty mean man tnd de serves what he's gettin'." *t. " l u k ? O , w ,-, U -" s * J s .7? e * .•cratcbin' his head kind of thoughtful like. "Still he am t helpm* to pay my board bilL Sometimes I almost wish we didn't have strikes in this country." u • "Can it be possible,- I says, "that you are sidin' in with the^ plutocrat against giyin* the workin'man his rights?" "No. no." savs Toe, gettin' scared and lookin' around to see if anybody-happened to hear us. "You know blamed well that although I always vote to uphold the business in terests of the country I am in favor of givin' the laborin' man the highest wages in the history of our splendid re public. Don't tell anybody I complained, because I don't want to be looked down on as an enemy to the business interests or the labor element of the community. That contractor had to stand out" for principle, and of course it would of been a fatal blow to labor if the men had sub mitted to his terms. So I stand up for one side and ap prove of what has been done by the other. Thank heaven I am still a loval citizen ever ready to sympathize with the downtrodden masses and demand that capital shall be fullv protected." ; : ..._ ThereVonly one class of peoole in this country that don t get any sympathy and can't command respect That s us who are between the two fightin' elements and have to take knocks from both sides. It shows what or ganization will do. The other fellows are organized. We am t. and that s what's the matter with us. If we had a union or something for self-protection and the advance ment of our own interests maybe they'd ask what we thought of it once in a while before sroin* ahead and dom things that rmke it disagreeable and costly for us- What we need is hard times with low prices and our sal aries and incomes left as they are. Here's what our minister thinks about it: The men below and the men tbova * Fight on day after day, " _ And when they'll cease to knock and prod No mortal man can say. But it isn't the ones above who feel The sharpest, keenest woes. And it isn't the ones below who reel From the hardest, heaviest blows. Between the ones at war there stands A great and patient horde That gets it from both sides at once How long, how long, O Lord? " Yours for a fairer show." CHEERFULNESS AS AN ASSET. By "Tf)c Parson." ¦ i EAR PIERREPONT: Of course you're in no position yet to think of being en- Jj™ 3 **!?! gaged even, and that's why I'm a little afraid that you may be planning to get mar g r$|sv§ ried. But a twelve-dollar clerk, who owes fifty-two dollars for roses, needs a I sUlP " keeper more than arvvife. I want to say right here that there always comes a time J«Jj^*^^ to tke fellow who blows fifty-two dollars at a lick on roses when he thinks how — LI - many staple groceries he could have bought with the money. After all, there's no fool like a, young fool, because in the nature of things he's a long time to live. I suppose I'm fanning the air when I ask you to be guided by my judgment in this matter, because, while a young fellow will consult^ his father about buying a horse, he's cocksure of him self when it comes to picking a wife. Marriages may be made in heaven, but most engagements are made in the back parlor, with the gas so low that a fellow doesn't really get a square look at what he's talking to. While a man doesn't see much of a girl's family when he's courting, he's apt to see a good deal of it when he's housekeeping; and while he doesn't marry his wife's father, there's nothing in the marriage vow to prevent the old man "from borrowing \money from him, and you can bet 'if he's old Job Dashkam he'll do it. A man can't pick his own mother, but he can pick his son's mother, and when he chooses a father-in-law who plays the bucket shops he needn't be surprised if his own son plays the races. * f Never marry a poor girl who's been raised like a rich one. She's simply traded the virtues of the poor for the vices of the rich without going long on their good points. To marry for money or to marry without money is a crime. There's no real objection to marrying a woman with a for tune, but there is to marrying a fortune with a woman. Money, makes the mare go, and it makes her cut up, too, unless she's used to it and you drive her with a snaffle bit." While you are at it, there's nothing-like. picking out a good-looking wife, because even the handsomest woman looks homely sometimes,? and f so -you .get, a Jittle variety; but a homely one can only look worse than usual. Beauty is only skin deep, but that's deep enough to satisfy any reason able man. (I want to say right here that to get any sense out of a proverb I usually find that I have to turn it wrong side out.) Then, too, if a fellow's bound to marry a fool— and a lot of men have to if they're going to hitch up into a well-matched team— there's nothing like picking a good-looking one. . I believe in short engagements and long marriages. I don't see any sense in a fellow's sitting around on the mourner's bench with the sinners, after he's really got religion. The time to size up the other side's strength is before the engagement. ) ¦ Some fellows propose to a girl before they know whether her front #nd her back hair match", and then holler that they're stuck when they find that she's got a cork leg and a glass eye as well. I haven't any sympathy with them. They start out on the principle that married people Have only, one meal a day, and that of fried oysters and tutti-frutti icecream after the theater. Naturally, a girl's got her better nature and her best complexion along under those circumstances; but the really valuable thing to know is how she approaches ham and eggs at 7 a. m., and whether she brings her complexion with her to the break fast table. And these fellows make a girl believe they're going to spend all the time between 8 and ir p. m., for the rest of their lives, holding a hundred and forty pounds, live weight, in their lap, and saying that it feels like a feather. The thing to find out is whether, when one of them gets up to holding a ten-pound baby in his arms for five minutes, he's going to carry on as if it weighed a ton. MARRIAGE From "X>tt*r« from a B«lf-M»d» Mer chant to Hl« Son." by O«onr« Horao* Lorlmer. By permission of Small, M&r nard & Co., Publisher*, Boston, Masa.