Bab Bab 17 · AMONG THE MAIDS

Chapter 17. AMONG THE MAIDS

Although this story is about Jo's boys, her girls cannot be neglected,

because they held a high place in this little republic, and especial

care was taken to fit them to play their parts worthily in the great

republic which offered them wider opportunities and more serious duties.

To many the social influence was the better part of the training

they received; for education is not confined to books, and the finest

characters often graduate from no college, but make experience their

master, and life their book. Others cared only for the mental culture,

and were in danger of over-studying, under the delusion which pervades

New England that learning must be had at all costs, forgetting that

health and real wisdom are better. A third class of ambitious girls

hardly knew what they wanted, but were hungry for whatever could fit

them to face the world and earn a living, being driven by necessity,

the urgency of some half-conscious talent, or the restlessness of

strong young natures to break away from the narrow life which no longer

satisfied.

At Plumfield all found something to help them; for the growing

institution had not yet made its rules as fixed as the laws of the

Medes and Persians, and believed so heartily in the right of all

sexes, colours, creeds, and ranks to education, that there was room

for everyone who knocked, and a welcome to the shabby youths from up

country, the eager girls from the West, the awkward freedman or woman

from the South, or the well-born student whose poverty made this college

a possibility when other doors were barred. There still was prejudice,

ridicule, neglect in high places, and prophecies of failure to contend

against; but the Faculty was composed of cheerful, hopeful men and women

who had seen greater reforms spring from smaller roots, and after stormy

seasons blossom beautifully, to add prosperity and honour to the nation.

So they worked on steadily and bided their time, full of increasing

faith in their attempt as year after year their numbers grew, their

plans succeeded, and the sense of usefulness in this most vital of all

professions blessed them with its sweet rewards.

Among the various customs which had very naturally sprung up was one

especially useful and interesting to 'the girls', as the young women

liked to be called. It all grew out of the old sewing hour still kept up

by the three sisters long after the little work-boxes had expanded into

big baskets full of household mending. They were busy women, yet on

Saturdays they tried to meet in one of the three sewing-rooms; for

even classic Parnassus had its nook where Mrs Amy often sat among her

servants, teaching them to make and mend, thereby giving them a respect

for economy, since the rich lady did not scorn to darn her hose, and sew

on buttons. In these household retreats, with books and work, and their

daughters by them, they read and sewed and talked in the sweet privacy

that domestic women love, and can make so helpful by a wise mixture of

cooks and chemistry, table linen and theology, prosaic duties and good

poetry.

Mrs Meg was the first to propose enlarging this little circle; for as

she went her motherly rounds among the young women she found a sad lack

of order, skill, and industry in this branch of education. Latin, Greek,

the higher mathematics, and science of all sorts prospered finely; but

the dust gathered on the work-baskets, frayed elbows went unheeded, and

some of the blue stockings sadly needed mending. Anxious lest the usual

sneer at learned women should apply to 'our girls', she gently lured two

or three of the most untidy to her house, and made the hour so pleasant,

the lesson so kindly, that they took the hint, were grateful for the

favour, and asked to come again. Others soon begged to make the detested

weekly duty lighter by joining the party, and soon it was a privilege

so much desired that the old museum was refitted with sewing-machines,

tables, rocking-chair, and a cheerful fireplace, so that, rain or shine,

the needles might go on undisturbed.

Here Mrs Meg was in her glory, and stood wielding her big shears like a

queen as she cut out white work, fitted dresses, and directed Daisy, her

special aide, about the trimming of hats, and completing the lace and

ribbon trifles which add grace to the simplest costume and save poor

or busy girls so much money and time. Mrs Amy contributed taste, and

decided the great question of colours and complexions; for few women,

even the most learned, are without that desire to look well which makes

many a plain face comely, as well as many a pretty one ugly for want of

skill and knowledge of the fitness of things. She also took her turn to

provide books for the readings, and as art was her forte she gave them

selections from Ruskin, Hamerton, and Mrs Jameson, who is never old.

Bess read these aloud as her contribution, and Josie took her turn at

the romances, poetry, and plays her uncles recommended. Mrs Jo gave

little lectures on health, religion, politics, and the various questions

in which all should be interested, with copious extracts from Miss

Cobbe's Duties of Women, Miss Brackett's Education of American Girls,

Mrs Duffy's No Sex in Education, Mrs Woolson's Dress Reform, and many of

the other excellent books wise women write for their sisters, now that

they are waking up and asking: 'What shall we do?'

It was curious to see the prejudices melt away as ignorance was

enlightened, indifference change to interest, and intelligent minds

set thinking, while quick wits and lively tongues added spice to the

discussions which inevitably followed. So the feet that wore the neatly

mended hose carried wiser heads than before, the pretty gowns covered

hearts warmed with higher purposes, and the hands that dropped the

thimbles for pens, lexicons, and celestial globes, were better fitted

for life's work, whether to rock cradles, tend the sick, or help on the

great work of the world.

One day a brisk discussion arose concerning careers for women. Mrs Jo

had read something on the subject and asked each of the dozen girls

sitting about the room, what she intended to do on leaving college.

The answers were as usual: 'I shall teach, help mother, study medicine,

art,' etc.; but nearly all ended with:

'Till I marry.'

'But if you don't marry, what then?' asked Mrs Jo, feeling like a girl

again as she listened to the answers, and watched the thoughtful, gay,

or eager faces.

'Be old maids, I suppose. Horrid, but inevitable, since there are so

many superfluous women,' answered a lively lass, too pretty to fear

single blessedness unless she chose it.

'It is well to consider that fact, and fit yourselves to be useful, not

superfluous women. That class, by the way, is largely made up of widows,

I find; so don't consider it a slur on maidenhood.'

'That's a comfort! Old maids aren't sneered at half as much as they used

to be, since some of them have grown famous and proved that woman isn't

a half but a whole human being, and can stand alone.'

'Don't like it all the same. We can't all be like Miss Nightingale, Miss

Phelps, and the rest.'

So what can we do but sit in a corner and look on?' asked a plain girl

with a dissatisfied expression.

'Cultivate cheerfulness and content, if nothing else. But there are so

many little odd jobs waiting to be done that nobody need “sit idle and

look on”, unless she chooses,' said Mrs Meg, with a smile, laying on the

girl's head the new hat she had just trimmed.

'Thank you very much. Yes, Mrs Brooke, I see; it's a little job, but

it makes me neat and happy--and grateful,' she added, looking up with

brighter eyes as she accepted the labour of love and the lesson as

sweetly as they were given.

'One of the best and most beloved women I know has been doing odd jobs

for the Lord for years, and will keep at it till her dear hands are

folded in her coffin. All sorts of things she does--picks up neglected

children and puts them in safe homes, saves lost girls, nurses poor

women in trouble, sews, knits, trots, begs, works for the poor day after

day with no reward but the thanks of the needy, the love and honour

of the rich who make Saint Matilda their almoner. That's a life worth

living; and I think that quiet little woman will get a higher seat in

Heaven than many of those of whom the world has heard.'

'I know it's lovely, Mrs Bhaer; but it's dull for young folks. We do

want a little fun before we buckle to,' said a Western girl with a

wide-awake face.

'Have your fun, my dear; but if you must earn your bread, try to make it

sweet with cheerfulness, not bitter with the daily regret that it isn't

cake. I used to think mine was a very hard fate because I had to amuse

a somewhat fretful old lady; but the books I read in that lonely library

have been of immense use to me since, and the dear old soul bequeathed

me Plumfield for my “cheerful service and affectionate care”. I didn't

deserve it, but I did use to try to be jolly and kind, and get as

much honey out of duty as I could, thanks to my dear mother's help and

advice.'

'Gracious! if I could earn a place like this, I'd sing all day and be an

angel; but you have to take your chance, and get nothing for your pains,

perhaps. I never do,' said the Westerner, who had a hard time with small

means and large aspirations.

'Don't do it for the reward; but be sure it will come, though not in the

shape you expect. I worked hard for fame and money one winter; but I

got neither, and was much disappointed. A year afterwards I found I had

earned two prizes: skill with my pen, and Professor Bhaer.'

Mrs Jo's laugh was echoed blithely by the girls, who liked to have these

conversations enlivened by illustrations from life.

'You are a very lucky woman,' began the discontented damsel, whose soul

soared above new hats, welcome as they were, but did not quite know

where to steer.

'Yet her name used to be “Luckless Jo”, and she never had what she

wanted till she had given up hoping for it,' said Mrs Meg.

'I'll give up hoping, then, right away, and see if my wishes will come.

I only want to help my folks, and get a good school.'

'Take this proverb for your guide: “Get the distaff ready, and the Lord

will send the flax”,' answered Mrs Jo.

'We'd better all do that, if we are to be spinsters,' said the pretty

one, adding gaily, 'I think I should like it, on the whole--they are so

independent. My Aunt Jenny can do just what she likes, and ask no one's

leave; but Ma has to consult Pa about everything. Yes, I'll give you my

chance, Sally, and be a “superfluum”, as Mr Plock says.'

'You'll be one of the first to go into bondage, see if you aren't. Much

obliged, all the same.'

'Well, I'll get my distaff ready, and take whatever flax the Fates

send--single, or double-twisted, as the powers please.'

'That is the right spirit, Nelly. Keep it up, and see how happy life

will be with a brave heart, a willing hand, and plenty to do.'

'No one objects to plenty of domestic work or fashionable pleasure, I

find; but the minute we begin to study, people tell us we can't bear it,

and warn us to be very careful. I've tried the other things, and got so

tired I came to college; though my people predict nervous exhaustion and

an early death. Do you think there is any danger?' asked a stately girl,

with an anxious glance at the blooming face reflected in the mirror

opposite.

'Are you stronger or weaker than when you came two years ago, Miss

Winthrop?'

'Stronger in body, and much happier in mind. I think I was dying of

ennui; but the doctors called it inherited delicacy of constitution.

That is why mamma is so anxious, and I wish not to go too fast.'

'Don't worry, my dear; that active brain of yours was starving for good

food; it has plenty now, and plain living suits you better than luxury

and dissipation. It is all nonsense about girls not being able to study

as well as boys. Neither can bear cramming; but with proper care both

are better for it; so enjoy the life your instinct led you to, and we

will prove that wise headwork is a better cure for that sort of delicacy

than tonics, and novels on the sofa, where far too many of our girls

go to wreck nowadays. They burn the candle at both ends; and when they

break down they blame the books, not the balls.'

'Dr Nan was telling me about a patient of hers who thought she had

heart-complaint, till Nan made her take off her corsets, stopped her

coffee and dancing all night, and made her eat, sleep, walk, and live

regularly for a time; and now she's a brilliant cure. Common sense

versus custom, Nan said.'

'I've had no headaches since I came here, and can do twice as much

studying as I did at home. It's the air, I think, and the fun of going

ahead of the boys,' said another girl, tapping her big forehead with

her thimble, as if the lively brain inside was in good working order and

enjoyed the daily gymnastics she gave it.

'Quality, not quantity, wins the day, you know. Our brains may be

smaller, but I don't see that they fall short of what is required of

them; and if I'm not mistaken, the largest-headed man in our class is

the dullest,' said Nelly, with a solemn air which produced a gale of

merriment; for all knew that the young Goliath she mentioned had been

metaphorically slain by this quick-witted David on many a battle-field,

to the great disgust of himself and his mates.

'Mrs Brooke, do I gauge on the right or the wrong side?' asked the

best Greek scholar of her class, eyeing a black silk apron with a lost

expression.

'The right, Miss Pierson; and leave a space between the tucks; it looks

prettier so.'

'I'll never make another; but it will save my dresses from ink-stains,

so I'm glad I've got it'; and the erudite Miss Pierson laboured on,

finding it a harder task than any Greek root she ever dug up.

'We paper-stainers must learn how to make shields, or we are lost.

I'll give you a pattern of the pinafore I used to wear in my

“blood-and-thunder days”, as we call them,' said Mrs Jo, trying to

remember what became of the old tin-kitchen which used to hold her

works.

'Speaking of writers reminds me that my ambition is to be a George

Eliot, and thrill the world! It must be so splendid to know that one

has such power, and to hear people own that one possesses a “masculine

intellect”! I don't care for most women's novels, but hers are immense;

don't you think so, Mrs Bhaer?' asked the girl with the big forehead,

and torn braid on her skirt.

'Yes; but they don't thrill me as little Charlotte Bronte's books do.

The brain is there, but the heart seems left out. I admire, but I don't

love, George Eliot; and her life is far sadder to me than Miss Bronte's,

because, in spite of the genius, love, and fame, she missed the light

without which no soul is truly great, good, or happy.'

'Yes'm, I know; but still it's so romantic and sort of new and

mysterious, and she was great in one sense. Her nerves and dyspepsia do

rather destroy the illusion; but I adore famous people and mean to go

and see all I can scare up in London some day.'

'You will find some of the best of them busy about just the work I

recommend to you; and if you want to see a great lady, I'll tell you

that Mrs Laurence means to bring one here today. Lady Abercrombie is

lunching with her, and after seeing the college is to call on us. She

especially wanted to see our sewing-school, as she is interested in

things of this sort, and gets them up at home.'

'Bless me! I always imagined lords and ladies did nothing but ride round

in a coach and six, go to balls, and be presented to the Queen in cocked

hats, and trains and feathers,' exclaimed an artless young person from

the wilds of Maine, whither an illustrated paper occasionally wandered.

'Not at all; Lord Abercrombie is over here studying up our American

prison system, and my lady is busy with the schools--both very

high-born, but the simplest and most sensible people I've met this long

time. They are neither of them young nor handsome, and dress plainly;

so don't expect anything splendid. Mr Laurence was telling me last night

about a friend of his who met my lord in the hall, and owing to a rough

greatcoat and a red face, mistook him for a coachman, and said: “Now,

my man, what do you want here?” Lord Abercrombie mildly mentioned who

he was, and that he had come to dinner. And the poor host was much

afflicted, saying afterward: “Why didn't he wear his stars and garters?

then a fellow would know he was a lord.”'

The girls laughed again, and a general rustle betrayed that each was

prinking a bit before the titled guest arrived. Even Mrs Jo settled her

collar, and Mrs Meg felt if her cap was right, while Bess shook out

her curls and Josie boldly consulted the glass; for they were women, in

spite of philosophy and philanthropy.

'Shall we all rise?' asked one girl, deeply impressed by the impending

honour.

'It would be courteous.'

'Shall we shake hands?'

'No, I'll present you en masse, and your pleasant faces will be

introduction enough.'

'I wish I'd worn my best dress. Ought to have told us,' whispered Sally.

'Won't my folks be surprised when I tell them we have had a real lady to

call on us?' said another.

'Don't look as if you'd never seen a gentlewoman before, Milly. We are

not all fresh from the wilderness,' added the stately damsel who, having

Mayflower ancestors, felt that she was the equal of all the crowned

heads of Europe.

'Hush, she's coming! Oh, my heart, what a bonnet!' cried the gay girl in

a stage whisper; and every eye was demurely fixed upon the busy hands as

the door opened to admit Mrs Laurence and her guest.

It was rather a shock to find, after the general introduction was over,

that this daughter of a hundred earls was a stout lady in a plain gown,

and a rather weather-beaten bonnet, with a bag of papers in one hand

and a note-book in the other. But the face was full of benevolence, the

sonorous voice very kind, the genial manners very winning, and about the

whole person an indescribable air of high breeding which made beauty of

no consequence, costume soon forgotten, and the moment memorable to the

keen-eyed girls whom nothing escaped.

A little chat about the rise, growth, and success of this particular

class, and then Mrs Jo led the conversation to the English lady's

work, anxious to show her pupils how rank dignifies labour, and charity

blesses wealth.

It was good for these girls to hear of the evening-schools supported and

taught by women whom they knew and honoured; of Miss Cobbe's eloquent

protest winning the protection of the law for abused wives; Mrs Butler

saving the lost; Mrs Taylor, who devoted one room in her historic house

to a library for the servants; Lord Shaftesbury, busy with his new

tenement-houses in the slums of London; of prison reforms; and all the

brave work being done in God's name by the rich and great for the humble

and the poor. It impressed them more than many quiet home lectures would

have done, and roused an ambition to help when their time should come,

well knowing that even in glorious America there is still plenty to be

done before she is what she should be--truly just, and free, and great.

They were also quick to see that Lady Abercrombie treated all there as

her equals, from stately Mrs Laurence, to little Josie, taking notes

of everything and privately resolving to have some thick-soled English

boots as soon as possible. No one would have guessed that she had a

big house in London, a castle in Wales, and a grand country seat in

Scotland, as she spoke of Parnassus with admiration, Plumfield as a

'dear old home', and the college as an honour to all concerned in it.

At that, of course, every head went up a little, and when my lady left,

every hand was ready for the hearty shake the noble Englishwoman gave

them, with words they long remembered:

'I am very pleased to see this much-neglected branch of a woman's

education so well conducted here, and I have to thank my friend

Mrs Laurence for one of the most charming pictures I've seen in

America--Penelope among her maids.'

A group of smiling faces watched the stout boots trudge away, respectful

glances followed the shabby bonnet till it was out of sight, and the

girls felt a truer respect for their titled guest than if she had come

in the coach and six, with all her diamonds on.

'I feel better about the “odd jobs” now. I only wish I could do them as

well as Lady Abercrombie does,' said one.

'I thanked my stars my buttonholes were nice, for she looked at them and

said: “Quite workmanlike, upon my word,” added another, feeling that her

gingham gown had come to honour.

'Her manners were as sweet and kind as Mrs Brooke's. Not a bit stiff or

condescending, as I expected. I see now what you meant, Mrs Bhaer, when

you said once that well-bred people were the same all the world over.'

Mrs Meg bowed her thanks for the compliment, and Mrs Bhaer said:

'I know them when I see them, but never shall be a model of deportment

myself. I'm glad you enjoyed the little visit. Now, if you young people

don't want England to get ahead of us in many ways, you must bestir

yourselves and keep abreast; for our sisters are in earnest, you see,

and don't waste time worrying about their sphere, but make it wherever

duty calls them.'

'We will do our best, ma'am,' answered the girls heartily, and trooped

away with their work-baskets, feeling that though they might never be

Harriet Martineaus, Elizabeth Brownings, or George Eliots, they might

become noble, useful, and independent women, and earn for themselves

some sweet title from the grateful lips of the poor, better than any a

queen could bestow.