the angel and the author-第14部分

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dancers；　too　much　poker　work？　　If　not；　what　are　they？　these　〃higher　
things；〃　for　which　so　many　women　are　demanding　twenty…four　hours　a　
day　leisure。　　I　want　to　know。

One　lady　of　my　acquaintance　is　a　Poor　Law　Guardian　and　secretary　to　a　
labour　bureau。　　But　then　she　runs　a　house　with　two　servants；　four　
children；　and　a　husband；　and　appears　to　be　so　used　to　bothers　that　
she　would　feel　herself　lost　without　them。　　You　can　do　this　kind　of　
work　apparently　even　when　you　are　bothered　with　a　home。　　It　is　the　
skirt…dancing　and　the　poker　work　that　cannot　brook　rivalry。　　The　
modern　woman　has　begun　to　find　children　a　nuisance；　they　interfere　
with　her　development。　　The　mere　man；　who　has　written　his　poems；　
painted　his　pictures；　composed　his　melodies；　fashioned　his　
philosophies；　in　the　midst　of　life's　troubles　and　bothers；　grows　
nervous　thinking　what　this　new　woman　must　be　whose　mind　is　so　
tremendous　that　the　whole　world　must　be　shut　up；　so　to　speak；　sent　to　
do　its　business　out　of　her　sight　and　hearing；　lest　her　attention　
should　be　distracted。

An　optimistic　friend　of　mine　tells　me　not　to　worry　myself；　tells　me　
that　it　is　going　to　come　out　all　right　in　the　end。　　Woman　just　now；　
he　contends；　is　passing　through　her　college　period。　　The　school　life　
of　strict　surveillance　is　for　ever　done　with。　　She　is　now　the　young　
Freshwoman。　　The　bothering　lessons　are　over；　the　bothering　
schoolmaster　she　has　said　good…bye　to。　　She　has　her　latchkey　and　is　
〃on　her　own。〃　　There　are　still　some　bothering　rules　about　being　in　at　
twelve　o'clock；　and　so　many　attendances　each　term　at　chapel。　　She　is　
indignant。　　This　interferes　with　her　idea　that　life　is　to　be　one　long　
orgie　of　self…indulgence；　of　pleasure。　　The　college　period　will　pass…
…is　passing。　　Woman　will　go　out　into　the　world；　take　her　place　there；　
discover　that　bothers　were　not　left　behind　in　the　old　schoolhouse；　
will　learn　that　life　has　duties；　responsibilities；　will　take　up　her　
burden　side　by　side　with　man；　will　accomplish　her　destiny。

＇Is　there　anything　left　for　her　to　learn？＇

Meanwhile；　however；　she　is　having　a　good　timesome　people　think　too　
good　a　time。　　She　wants　the　best　of　both。　　She　demands　the　joys　of　
independence　together　with　freedom　from　all　workslavery　she　calls　
it。　　The　servants　are　not　to　be　allowed　to　bother　her；　the　children　
are　not　to　be　allowed　to　bother　her；　her　husband　is　not　to　be　allowed　
to　bother　her。　　She　is　to　be　free　to　lead　the　higher　life。　　My　dear　
lady；　we　all　want　to　lead　the　higher　life。　　I　don't　want　to　write　
these　articles。　　I　want　somebody　else　to　bother　about　my　rates　and　
taxes；　my　children's　boots；　while　I　sit　in　an　easy…chair　and　dream　
about　the　wonderful　books　I　am　going　to　write；　if　only　a　stupid　
public　would　let　me。　　Tommy　Smith　of　Brixton　feels　that　he　was　
intended　for　higher　things。　　He　does　not　want　to　be　wasting　his　time　
in　an　office　from　nine　to　six　adding　up　figures。　　His　proper　place　in　
life　is　that　of　Prime　Minister　or　Field　Marshal：　　he　feels　it。　　Do　
you　think　the　man　has　no　yearning　for　higher　things？　　Do　you　think　we　
like　the　office；　the　shop；　the　factory？　　We　ought　to　be　writing　
poetry；　painting　pictures；　the　whole　world　admiring　us。　　You　seem　to　
imagine　your　man　goes　off　every　morning　to　a　sort　of　City　picnic；　has　
eight　hours'　funwhich　he　calls　workand　then　comes　home　to　annoy　
you　with　chatter　about　dinner。

It　is　the　old　fable　reversed；　man　said　woman　had　nothing　to　do　all　
day　but　to　enjoy　herself。　　Making　a　potato　pie！　　What　sort　of　work　
was　that？　　Making　a　potato　pie　was　a　lark；　anybody　could　make　a　
potato　pie。

So　the　woman　said；　〃Try　it；〃　and　took　the　man's　spade　and　went　out　
into　the　field；　and　left　him　at　home　to　make　that　pie。

The　man　discovered　that　potato　pies　took　a　bit　more　making　than　he　
had　reckonedfound　that　running　the　house　and　looking　after　the　
children　was　not　quite　the　merry　pastime　he　had　argued。　　Man　was　a　
fool。

Now　it　is　the　woman　who　talks　without　thinking。　　How　did　she　like　
hoeing　the　potato　patch？　　Hard　work；　was　it　not；　my　dear　lady？　　Made　
your　back　ache？　　It　came　on　to　rain　and　you　got　wet。

I　don't　see　that　it　very　much　matters　which　of　you　hoes　the　potato　
patch；　which　of　you　makes　the　potato　pie。　　Maybe　the　hoeing　of　the　
patch　demands　more　muscleis　more　suited　to　the　man。　　Maybe　the　
making　of　the　pie　may　be　more　in　your　department。　　But；　as　I　have　
said；　I　cannot　see　that　this　matter　is　of　importance。　　The　patch　has　
to　be　hoed；　the　pie　to　be　cooked；　the　one　cannot　do　the　both。　　Settle　
it　between　you；　and；　having　settled　it；　agree　to　do　each　your　own　
work　free　from　this　everlasting　nagging。

I　know；　personally；　three　ladies　who　have　exchanged　the　woman's　work　
for　the　man's。　　One　was　deserted　by　her　husband；　and　left　with　two　
young　children。　　She　hired　a　capable　woman　to　look　after　the　house；　
and　joined　a　ladies'　orchestra　as　pianist　at　two　pounds　a　week。　　She　
now　earns　four；　and　works　twelve　hours　a　day。　　The　husband　of　the　
second　fell　ill。　　She　set　him　to　write　letters　and　run　errands；　which　
was　light　work　that　he　could　do；　and　started　a　dressmaker's　business。　　
The　third　was　left　a　widow　without　means。　　She　sent　her　three　
children　to　boarding…school；　and　opened　a　tea…room。　　I　don't　know　how　
they　talked　before；　but　I　know　that　they　do　not　talk　now　as　though　
earning　the　income　was　a　sort　of　round　game。

＇When　they　have　tried　it　the　other　way　round。＇

On　the　Continent　they　have　gone　deliberately　to　work；　one　would　
imagine；　to　reverse　matters。　　Abroad　woman　is　always　where　man　ought　
to　be；　and　man　where　most　ladies　would　prefer　to　meet　with　women。　　
The　ladies　garde…robe　is　superintended　by　a　superannuated　sergeant　of　
artillery。　　When　I　want　to　curl　my　moustache；　say；　I　have　to　make　
application　to　a　superb　golden…haired　creature；　who　stands　by　and　
watches　me　with　an　interested　smile。　　I　would　be　much　happier　waited　
on　by　the　superannuated　sergeant；　and　my　wife　tells　me　she　could　very　
well　spare　him。　　But　it　is　the　law　of　the　land。　　I　remember　the　first　
time　I　travelled　with　my　daughter　on　the　Continent。　　In　the　morning　I　
was　awakened　by　a　piercing　scream　from　her　room。　　I　struggled　into　my　
pyjamas；　and　rushed　to　her　assistance。　　I　could　not　see　her。　　I　could　
see　nothing　but　a　muscular…looking　man　in　a　blue　blouse　with　a　can　of　
hot　water　in　one　hand　and　a　pair　of　boots　in　the　other。　　He　appeared　
to　be　equally　bewildered　with　myself　at　the　sight　of　the　empty　bed。　　
From　a　cupboard　in　the　corner　came　a　wail　of　distress：

〃Oh；　do　send　that　horrid　man　away。　　What's　he　doing　in　my　room？〃

I　explained　to　her　afterwards　that　the　chambermaid　abroad　is　always　
an　active　and　willing　young　man。　　The　foreign　girl　fills　in　her　time　
bricklaying　and　grooming　down　the　horses。　　It　is　a　young　and　charming　
lady　who　serves　you　when　you　enter　the　tobacconist's。　　She　doesn't　
understand　tobacco；　is　unsympathetic；　with　Mr。　Frederic　Harrison；　
regards　smoking　as　a　degrading　and　unclean　habit；　cannot　see；　
herself；　any　difference　between　shag　and　Mayblossom；　seeing　that　they　
are　both　the　same　price；　thinks　you　fussy。　　The　corset　shop　is　run　by　
a　most　presentable　young　man　in　a　Vandyck　beard。　　The　wife　runs　the　
restaurant；　the　man　does　the　cooking；　and　yet　the　woman　has　not　
reached　freedom　from　bother。

＇A　brutal　suggestion＇

It　sounds　brutal；　but　perhaps　woman　was　not　intended　to　live　free　
from　all　bothers。　　Perhaps　even　the　higher　lifethe　skirt…dancing　
and　the　poker　workhas　its　bothers。　　Perhaps　woman　was　intended　to　
take　her　share　of　the　world's　workof　the　world's　bothers。



CHAPTER　XII



＇Why　I　hate　Heroes＇

When　I　was　younger；　reading　the　popular　novel　used　to　make　me　sad。　　I　
find　it　vexes　others　also。　　I　was　talking　to　a　bright　young　girl　upon　
the　subject　not　so　very　long　ago。

〃I　just　hate　the　girl　in　the　novel；〃　she　confessed。　　〃She　makes　me　
feel　real　bad。　　If　I　don't　think　of　her　I　feel　pleased　with　myself；　
and　good；　but　when　I　read　about　herwell；　I'm　crazy。　　I　would　not　
mind　her　being　smart；　sometimes。　　We　can　all　of　us　say　the　right　
thing；　now　and　then。　　This　girl　says　them　straight　away；　all　the　
time。　　She　don't　have　to　dig　for　them　even；　they　come　crowding　out　of　
her。　　There　never　happens　a　time　when　she　stands　there　feeling　like　a　
fool　and　knowing　that　she　looks　it。　　As　for　her　hair：　　'pon　my　word；　
there　are　days　when　I　believe　it　is　a　wig。　　I'd　like　to　get　behind　
her　and　give　it　just　one　pull。　　It　curls　of　its　own　accord。　　She　
don't　seem　to　have　any　trouble　with　it。　　Look　at　this　mop　of　mine。　　
I've　been　working　at　it　for　three…quarters　of　an　hour　this　morning；　
and　now　I　would　not　laugh；　not　if　you　were　to　tell　me　the　funniest　
thing；　you'd　ever　heard；　for　fear　it　would　come　down　again。　　As　for　
her　clothes；　they　make　me　tired。　　She　don't　possess　a　frock　that　does　
not　fit　her　to　perfection；　she　doesn't　have　to　think　about　them。　　You　
would　imagine　she　went　into　the　garden　and　picked　them　off　a　tree。　　
She　just　slips　it　on　and　comes　down；　and　thenmy　stars！　　All　the　
other　women　in　the　room　may　just　as　well　go　to　bed　and　get　a　good　
night's　rest　for　all　the　chance　they've　got。　　It　isn't　that　she's　
beautiful。　　From　what　they　tell　you　about　her；　you　might　fancy　her　a　
freak。　　Looks　don't　appear　to　matter　to　her；　she　gets　there　anyhow。　　
I　tell　you　she　just　makes　me　boil。〃

Allowing　for　the　difference　between　the　masculine　and　feminine　
outlook；　this　is　precisely　how　I　used　to　feel　when　reading　of　the　
hero。　　He　was　not　always　good；　sometimes　he　hit　the　villain　harder　
than　he　had　intended；　and　then　he　was　sorrywhen　it　was　too　late；　
blamed　himself　severely；　and　subscribed　towards　the　wreath。　　Like　the　
rest　of　us；　he　made　mistakes；　occasionally　married　the　wrong　girl。　　
But　how　well　he　did　everything！does　still　for　the　matter　of　that；　I　
believe。　　Take　it　that　he　condescends　to　play　cricket！　　He　never　
scores　less　than　a　hundreddoes　not　know　how　to　score　less　than　a　
hundred；　wonders　how　it　could　be　done；　supposing；　for　example；　you　
had　an　appointment　and　wanted　to　catch　an　early　train。　　I　used　to　
play　cricket　myself；　but　I　could　always　stop　at　ten　or　twenty。　　There　
have