CHAPTER VI

ROADTOWN HOUSEKEEPING

Though it is true that some work, which in the past rested heavily

upon the shoulders of women, has been taken into the factory, notably

the spinning, weaving and clothes making trades, and on the farm the

making of butter, still the bulk of labor of the women of the average

household comes in that group of washing, ironing, dusting, sweeping,

scrubbing, making beds, cooking and dish-washing. This is woman’s work

in the most of our homes, and a servant’s work in the homes of the rich.

_Woman’s Work not Specialized._

Industrial progress has not yet applied to this work of women the

specialization and labor saving machinery that has sent forward

the general work of the world at such a rapid pace. Another way

of expressing the same idea is to say that in at least nine-tenths

of the households, the woman is the household servant. If the work

be assigned to outsiders, then the privacy of the family circle is

broken up and the dearest ties of earth are disturbed by intruders.

At present there are two ways out of the difficulty. The way of the

rich is the employment of household servants. To counteract the

disturbance of family life an elaborate system of servant etiquette

has been established by means of which the servant is made to

resemble, as much as possible, the cookstove or the family horse.

This satisfies the family, but is disagreeable to the servant, and

incidently keeps a worker out of productive effort, raises the cost of

living to everybody, and deprives her of the most normal expression of

womanhood--that of marrying and coddling her own children.

The second solution is for those too poor to employ servants. It

consists in eulogizing the “homely virtues” and writing poems about

the duties of women in the home and artfully associating the scouring

of a brass kettle with the instinct of motherhood. This effort to

satisfy the women in the home in playing the personal servant to the

rest of the family by enshrining the dish-rag and broom is nothing new

in the history of the world. Those who have benefited from the work of

others have always been quick to quote scripture to keep the worker on

the job, and as long as there is no other way to get the work done,

this plastering over of dirty work with beautiful thoughts is indeed

a makeshift virtue, but one of which we shall some day be thoroughly

ashamed.

In the Roadtown, this problem, old as civilization, will be solved,

not by bringing in outside workers to break up family life, but by

sending most of the present work out of the home and simplifying that

which must remain until the task becomes so light that each member of

the family will perform his share of the housekeeping just as he now

dresses himself, or walks to catch the trolley car.

_No Laundry Work at Home._

The first function, washing and ironing, has long since been made an

industrial function by the rich everywhere, and also by the middle

class in our cities. Farmers’ wives and the wives of the city laborers

still do home laundrying. In the Roadtown, with its perfect system

of transportation, the trouble of sending soiled clothes to the

coöperative laundry will be very simple as compared with the present

wasteful method of city collection of laundry. The service will indeed

be so cheap that I fancy Roadtowners will vote to add the expense of

the laundry to the charge for rent, thus doing away with the cost of

accounts and collections. This would put a premium upon cleanliness,

to be sure, and might result in a slight increase of the total expense

since our clothes would be washed more often.

In connection with the laundry will be a pressing and cleaning

establishment which will likewise be run coöperatively. The pressing

machine now used by clothing manufacturers will keep people looking

spick and span for a mere trifle.

How far the Roadtowners will carry the idea of a blanket rate to cover

the cost for all these things depends on traits in human nature that

are pretty hard to anticipate. We force people to coöperate, to build

parks and statues to beautify our cities. Do we want to tax them for

a chance to be well groomed, or do we prefer to see the other fellow

slouchy so that we will look better by comparison? I for one, believe

in allowing civic pride to include live citizens as well as marble

statues of the dead.

_Dusting and Sweeping._

Dusting and sweeping must be done at home, we cannot send the house

out, but we can pipe the house for suction sweeping and discard forever

the broom, clothes brush and that arch nuisance, the feather duster,

which is used to chase the dust from room to room without getting rid

of it. Scrubbing and mopping will be greatly simplified by the cement

construction and the convenience of water and sewage. These periodic

tasks will be grouped into trades, so that they can, when desirable,

be given over to professional cleaners as is window washing in city

buildings.

_Making Beds by Machinery._

The care of the beds is the next item on our list. The Roadtown

sleeping-room will in the daytime have the appearance of a sitting-room

or library. One essential piece of furniture will be a couch or divan

with good springs upholstered with fire proof material. Plush, leather

and linen divan and chair covers will be used alternately to suit the

seasons and varying requirements. The divan forms the foundation of the

bed. The bedding including a light pad or mattress will be made about

a foot longer than is customary. At the foot this bedding and pad will

be fastened together by a metal clasp, or “bedding hanger” on the order

of a trousers-hanger. In the morning instead of making up the bed--that

is, carefully folding up all the germs and foul odors, the bed will be

suspended by the hanger in an adjoining fresh air closet. By reversing

the action of the rod supporting the bedding, which describes an arc

over the unfolded divan, the bedding is spread neatly in place--the

bed is made. This closet in which the bedding hangs freely exposed

to the air has one side, or rather edge, against the outside wall of

the building. This wall space will be formed of shutters which admit

of free circulation of air, thus the bed is aired _every day_ and _all

day_. But there are certain species of “germs,” as every housekeeper

can testify, that will survive this fresh air device, for them another

provision will be made. This closet will be piped for a certain kind

of gas which will be selected by the Roadtown biologist. At stated

intervals the outside shutters will be tightly closed as well as door

of the closet and the bedding fumigated instead of aired. This method

can also be used to disinfect clothing.

There will be few rats or mice in the Roadtown home, for there will be

little food left around to attract them, and no places for them to gnaw

through or build their nests. In the average city building used for

factory purposes, the damage from rats and vermin, I am told, is often

over 10 per cent of the gross sales.

_Coöperative Cooking Practical._

Coöperative cooking, in spite of the first natural antipathy, has

gained considerable ground in city life. We find it in two forms, the

dining-out habit and the delicatessen habit. The first is expensive of

time and money, and destroys the most delightful hours of home life.

The second is likewise expensive and results in a diet consisting

chiefly of bread, cheese, cold meat and pickles. The weakness in both

systems is in the matter of imperfect transportation. In the first case

the people must be taken to the food, and hence out of the home. In the

second, the food must be brought into the home by a system of delivery

that greatly increases expense and limits the quality, quantity, and

variety of the available meal. The Roadtown, built in the one straight

horizontal line, will make possible the use of a mechanical delivery

system which is not now available even for hotel service.

The mechanical carrier will be on the order of that used in the Library

of Congress as a “book railroad.” It is inexpensive, noiseless, and

can by means of a “key” be set to switch automatically at the house for

which the “car” or “carrier” is intended.

The Roadtown cooking will not be done in a single kitchen, but in a

number of large establishments, such as bakeries, creameries, boiling,

roasting establishments, etc. The prepared foods will then be sent

in suitable quantities to serving stations located about half a mile

apart, and there kept hot in the warming closets. Here the frying,

broiling, and other such types of cooking will be performed to order.

The bill-of-fare will be sent out by Roadtown mail. The people

will order by ’phone and the foods will be on the sideboard in the

Roadtown dining-room in less time than it takes to bring it by the

two-legged route from Delmonico’s kitchen to his dining-room. But in

the dining-room a difference arises. The carriers must be opened and

the dishes and food arranged upon the table by the women folks--a

homely virtue left that the household poet may not be entirely without

material.

The usual meal will require two carriers, one of which will be heated,

and the other containing butter, milk, ices, etc., will be chilled.

Many changes of fashion will be required in the form and material of

dishes for containing and serving food--changes that will doubtless

“upset” the good dames who have found virtue in soup tureens that can

slop over, but it is needless to add that their Roadtown daughters will

be more “upset” at the thought of a return to present customs.

At the close of the Roadtown meal, the dishes, food remnants and soiled

linen, will be put into the carrier, and dropped down a little chute

where they will travel merrily to the public dish-washery. Here a few

men with the aid of machinery will do the work which now occupies

half a hundred mothers while their families adjourn to the library,

music-room or to indulge in a nap.

In the Roadtown household there will be no furnaces to tend, no ashes

to haul out, and no marketing to do. The garbage waste will be only

the table refuse which will be placed in a paraffined paper receptacle

and sent back with the dishes. A bag for waste cloth and paper will

complete the waste disposal system.

_The End of Household Drudgery._

In such an environment with the baby cared for by experts in the

nursery or kindergarten only a thousand feet away, the mother will have

time to operate an electric sewing, knitting, or one of many other

automatic and noiseless machines, work in the garden, read, visit, or

attend the theater, lecture hall or church. Indeed the Roadtown woman

will be free to do anything and everything she chooses except home

drudgery.

The Roadtown idea will at first produce a long low wail from the

thousands of men readers which will begin and end with a plea for

“mother’s cooking.” The Roadtown cookshop is coöperative, but the

dining-room is not. And the cookshop will be there to fill the need of

the coöperators, not to make money. If there is demand it will have

uncooked food to send out as well as cooked food. Nor will there be

any law against the bringing into one’s home the fruits of one’s own

garden, berry patch, and poultry yard. Roadtown folks that keep a

cow can take their choice between setting the milk in the spring and

letting the cream rise or sending the milk to the creamery where it

is aërated, chilled, pasteurized, and bottled, and the fat contents

standardized, and thus sent back as 4 per cent milk to drink and 20 per

cent cream for the strawberries. Personally having tasted both kinds I

prefer the scientific product.

Every Roadtown home will have a boiler for hot water, a chafing dish

and as much more cooking apparatus as may be desired. The wealthy

matron of to-day keeps alive the sentiment of mother’s cooking by

making the tea, frosting the cake or making the salad dressing. The

Roadtown mother can do the same, and as much more cooking as she likes,

but once the opportunity is given for people to find the actual economy

of coöperation and to see the folly of heating up a whole house to do

one family’s cooking, the amount of cooking mothers will do will be

decidedly limited.

Sentiments can bar out progress for a while, but where there is a

great economical saving with nothing to lose but sentiment, economy

generally wins. How would you, Mr. Home-is-sacred-man, like to thresh

or flail the wheat by hand in order that the family might eat pies made

of hand threshed wheat as well as to eat mother’s pies made of machine

prepared flour?

This game of jollying mothers into playing household flunkies by

complimenting their products is getting thin, and a lot of mothers are

beginning to see through it.

The coöperative preparation of food will have many indirect effects. A

Roadtown ten miles in length could well afford to have its own canning

factory, cold storage, and, if the trusts become too dictatorial,

also its own packing house. The Pure Food Law in Roadtown will be a

dead-letter, for the buyers will be food experts and will have nothing

to gain by defrauding the people, or helping to keep them in ignorance.

With a double cause for watchfulness, economy and health, it is hardly

likely that such a buyer would find it worth while attempting to go

in partnership with food adulterators. Certainly the inducement to

adulterate is much greater in the world to-day, for every man involved

in it, profits by the practice, the consumer alone, woefully ignorant

of the whole subject, is the only dupe.

Not only will the Roadtown buyer get pure food, but he will get all

food at wholesale rates. The frightful waste, due to the putting up

of food in small cans, bottles and cartons, is little appreciated. I

recently tested this principle by buying olive oil. The oil was priced

me at $1.80 a gallon, but the oil I secured in fifty cent bottles I

found cost me $7.00 a gallon. Cotton seed oil was priced at sixty cents

a gallon. I purchased a five-cent bottle and found that I had paid at

the rate of $2.25 a gallon. These are indisputable facts and they could

be multiplied indefinitely. In barrel or car lots the above gallon

prices would be greatly reduced.

All Roadtown foods can be bought in bulk direct from the makers at

makers’ rates. The vegetables will be crisp and fresh from the Roadtown

gardens. The profits of the middlemen, of retailers, of adulterators

and advertisers, the cost of bottles and cans, of delivery boys and

bad grocery bills will certainly be eliminated with one fell swoop.

It will reduce the cost of living, mark you, at such a rate that the

unsophisticated will confuse a Roadtown meal with a charitable soup

kitchen. But if you don’t believe this, write to your country cousins

and find out just what is the producer’s price on the material out of

which a meal is made.

Roadtown · 第 6 / 13 章