" THE COMMON TASK."
rro THE EDITOR OF THE SPECTATOR."] SIR,—Unlike " S. H. E. L." I was not privileged to see your review on " The Common Task," but have had sent to me the copy of your paper containing "The ordinary day of a working woman."
I think my days are all very full ; it is impossible to tell of the hundred and one tasks pushed in between the usual routine. I think it would take a year to tell of the work accomplished; it cannot always be divided into days and weeks. But as " S. H. E. L." has given you her washing day, I will give you mine. We are seven— five children, the eldest ten, the youngest eight months, my husband and self. I rise at six, light the fires, clean up the dining-room, clean four pairs of the children's boots, sort the clothes out, and have breakfast ready 7.30 a.m., call the children, help two of them to dress, and get breakfast; then while the two elder children clear the table, I turn the beds and gather together anything requiring to be washed, then get the children off to school and start washing, which I continue. until the baby awakes, when he is to wash and dress and feed,. Dinner, which generally consists of rice pudding, cold meat, and either boiled or roasted potatoes, must be ready by 12 o'clock for the husband leaving work and the children leaving school ;. then wash up, and set the children off again by 1.15, and con- tinue the wash. Of course, baby must be nursed a bit between whiles, and I think myself lucky if I finish washing, clean up. the wa.slihouse, and make myself tidy by five o'clock ; then we all have tea together, and if possible I fold the clothes, and get two children to bed by seven, then help the oldest half an hour with his music, then we either read together or have a game, or I help two of them with school lessons, and get them. to bed by 8.30 ; then if possible I like to indulge in a littler_ quiet reading, which is not often possible. Then I get supper,. and to bed by 10.30. There are times when one is wearied out in body and mind, when one longs for the help of a maid,. however small ; but at the same time it is a labour of love, the children's pleasure is ours, and their progress and well- being our only hope of reward. I wonder if you have been. overwhelmed with letters on a day in the life of a working woman, and will consign this one to the waste-paper basket
[This record is also one for admiration. It confirms an. opinion, often expressed by the present writer, that the: English working wife and mother is the very salt of the earth. She is our true soldier, and places our flag on the topmost rampart where none shall overthrow it. No such devotion will ever be without its reward.—ED. Spectator.]
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