“To look after my children, keep busy and out of mischief for a while,
but I shall see you later on. Take good care of her,” she said to Mr.
Andrews as she left us.
“Which would you like to see first,” he questioned. “You have seen some
of [Illustration: The Home of the late Mrs. H. Alfarata Chapman
Thompson.] our ideas, but what appeals most strongly to you as next to
be investigated?”
“Everything,” I replied quickly, “and since I can not choose as all is
equally interesting, you had better decide, for
‘The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers
Seem full of welcome.’”
“Very well, as you are a woman, I judge that the prettier parts may
appeal to you most strongly and shall show you our conversation corners
and parlorettes.” And he led the way to one of the latter.
It was furnished in such manner as to show careful thought for
adaptability to any season, yet seemed peculiarly suggestive of only
one. There was no upholstered furniture to gather dust, lose shape, be
uncomfortable in warm weather or hygienically unsafe. Pillows and
adjustable seat cushions, however, were in plenty to be used presumably,
in any way, for the comfort of occupants on the attractive couchs,
chairs and rockers of willow. The floor in wood of artistically colored
design had here and there a rug harmonizing in color, but light in
weight. On the walls were a few carefully chosen pictures of summer
scenes and themes suggesting thoughts of that season. A water-nymph,
Pan, Psyche and other choice pieces of bric-a-brac roused my admiration,
as did also the folios of small pictures giving views of cascades,
mountain trails, lakes, forests and picturesque scenery. A cursory look
at the magazines and books showed that they too were suggestive of
nature study, outings and the many opportunities peculiar to the summer
season, to come closer in touch with nature. The whole arrangement of
the room seemed intended to suggest only summer and I asked if this had
been their plan.
“Yes,” said Mr. Andrews in reply to my question, “that was part of the
idea, but it was not intended to suggest such thoughts only, for as I
have already remarked, we know not extremes here. The thought in the
arrangement of each of our principal rooms, as you will discover, was,
in conjunction with this to give a basis for change and rest to the mind
if one were alone, or to serve as an impetus for topics of conversation,
discussions and talks that will be helpful as well as interesting, and
we look for this in all our household so far as possible.”
The idea seemed beautiful theoretically, but I could not help feeling a
little skeptical about it.
From there we entered next what was evidently a music-room, for a fine
piano stood open, choice music and books about music and musicians lay
on the tables, and one or two different instruments gave proof that some
of the people were interested in other lines. Here too, apparently, care
had been taken to inspire to effort by portraits of some of the famous
composers, including the beloved Mendelssohn, Rubenstein, Chopin, Liszt,
and an excellent copy of the favorite picture “Song without words,” also
known as “Mendelssohn and his Sister.” There was no lavish display in
anything, but the whole room bespoke a wish to rouse and keep interested
those with talent in this direction. As we turned to leave, a man, by no
means young, but with purpose reflected on his strong, kind face,
entered and Mr. Andrews introduced him as Mr. Whitehurst. Not wishing to
interrupt him I said,
“We shall not disturb you, for I presume you are another Franz Abt or
perhaps a Pinsuti about to try the melodies floating through your brain,
and then give them forth to the world to enjoy.”
“No,” he answered laughingly, “I am practically but a beginner. Though
having a little latent talent, until I came here the chance had never
been offered to cultivate it. Now I have opportunity to practise and do
what I can after regular duties are finished, and am very happy.” After
chatting a little while we bade him good morning, and left him to pursue
his studies.
Once outside of hearing, I ventured to inquire what the occupation might
be of this particular man, and was told that his work lay chiefly in the
care of the flower and vegetable gardens as he had excellent knowledge
in this direction.
“Mr. Whitehurst came to us,” said Mr. Andrews, “heartsick and
discouraged. He had sought work in his own and other lines without
success, was alone in the world and not in the best of health. We asked
what he could do, also an honest statement of where he had come from
together with information on a few other minor points, then gave him a
chance to do what he could. I am glad to say he has proven fully worthy
of our confidence. He has under him several of our younger men who are
equally interested in the best farming and floriculture. By agreement
and careful arrangement of their work, each has time for his own special
line of amusement, and Mr. Whitehurst has practised diligently.
Fortunately, having in our household one who is quite a skilled musician
we have been able to guide and cheer him on. I think we shall never have
any regret for he has proven most exemplary in every way.”
Again I inwardly asked many blessings on those good people whose purpose
in life was of the highest and noblest. While thinking thus, we had
reached another room which I immediately conjectured had been planned to
represent fall. Here again was unupholstered furniture, but its
framework carried the colors of autumn foliage. Some of the pictures
were of the woods in their rich beauty at the turning of the leaves,
others were of the hunt, the vineyard and merry parties gathering nuts.
The literature also suggested seasonable topics and one could only feel
happy amid such surroundings. I was getting bewildered by the successful
manner in which this novel idea had been carried out and less skeptical,
and had to show my admiration in numerous expressions of praise.
A graceful turn past pretty corners brought us to the library which was
so inviting with its little tables, comfortable chairs and shelves well
filled with the best literature, dictionaries, cyclopedias and other
reference books. Pictures of the “Poets Corner,” of the “Taj Mahal,” of
the “Children of Charles I of England,” of the “Colosseum” were an
inspiration to explore into the history of various countries, while
excellent casts of the “Winged Victory of Samothrace,” “Mercury,” and
the “Three Fates,” busts of Homer, Milton, Joan of Arc, Longfellow and
Whittier seemed to make one involuntarily long to gain knowledge of
mythology, art, famous people, poetry and other interesting subjects.
“Our library is small as yet,” said Mr. Andrews, “but we wish it to grow
with us, to speak in itself of the progress of our life here. Therefore
selections and additions are made with judicious care and we have
allowed ample room for a few years growth at least.”
Leading into the library was a smaller room or alcove arranged with
conveniences for a teacher and pupils, and even as we entered a little
girl was just finishing a morning lesson in arithmetic. A bright face
young woman accompanied her and both looked happy. Our introductions and
conversation revealed the fact that the elder was a Miss Lorimer and had
formerly been governess in a family of wealth, who believed in educating
their children by travel as well as by books. She seemed to have a store
of knowledge made all the richer by coming in close contact and studying
things in fact as well as in fancy.
“My little pupil, Alice, here,” she said, “is particularly happy in
having mastered a very hard problem for her in mathematics. We get on
very well in other subjects, but this seems more difficult. Therefore to
make it perhaps a little plainer and also less tedious than constant
study from books, we are going out now to study arithmetic from nature.
Everything looks refreshed since the rain and the ground absorbs the
moisture so quickly that I think we shall be safe. We are going to add,
subtract, multiply and divide the rows of potatoes in the vegetable
garden and incidentally take a lesson in botany as we study the
blossoms, leaves, roots and general manner in which potatoes grow. We
shall have a happy time, shall we not, Alice?”
“Yes, Miss Lorimer,” the child answered. “I am always happy here. While
I am busy with my hands putting away the dishes and placing the chairs
about the tables in the dining-room, my mind is also full of thoughts
about my lessons and hoping you will have something new in store for me.
And I feel so glad to be useful that it seems to take almost only a
minute to do anything. My! but I’m glad they brought me here.”
The dear little face did indeed look bright and happy as we all said
good morning and they turned away together.
“Truly,” I said to Mr. Andrews, “you have certainly all learned the
pleasure of giving as well as of receiving, for Miss Lorimer looks quite
as pleased as little Alice.”
“Yes,” he answered, “that is so. They who thus give of themselves seem
to be as glad to impart their knowledge as those seeking it are to gain
it. Here, any who lack instruction are helped in all lines by those
having ability to teach. Miss Lorimer from her large experience is very
successful in teaching both young and old, and has a most delightful way
of adopting methods likely to keep all interested and result in real
study.”
“As an aid in such work,” he continued, “we have started here a
miniature museum,” and he led the way across the room to where glass
cases stood containing specimens of birds, insects, minerals and animals
that were common about the place or that had been obtained elsewhere and
contributed. An exceptionally fine botanic collection carefully mounted
was of more than ordinary interest.
“How was it possible,” I asked, “for you to think of everything to thus
complete the family life here?”
“Perhaps it was easier than you think,” Mr. Andrews replied. “Although
my aunt and her husband in establishing this home had certain lines
which they wished to follow, they never failed to get ideas from all and
every one who could contribute anything toward making life within these
walls happy for both young and old. They were fortunate in having among
their friends some men and women with rare minds, a little means, and,
like themselves, without relatives. Therefore, when spoken to regarding
this novel scheme they were only too glad to become members of the
household, to do their share in its labor and contribute their quota for
the good of all.”
“Had this not been so,” I answered, “your wonderful home would have been
an utter impossibility. It takes, first of all, people possessing broad,
liberal spirits, willing to give in every way for the benefit of others,
to make success crown such an effort as this. Knowledge is a very
necessary item, but unaccompanied with generosity of heart, will ever be
like the miser’s gold hidden away,—a principal accruing no interest.
While not in use, neither can circulate for the benefit of the world or
carry out its real purpose.”
To this Mr. Andrews replied, “Your comparison is not only a good one,
but quite true. We try in every way to live for each other and to hoard
up nothing.”
“But here we are to our next parlorette which may possibly be termed
‘winter:’ However, if this means to you only snow covered earth,
ice-locked rivers, people in furs and the jingle of sleigh-bells, you
can look for suggestions for such thoughts in the pictures mainly and
some of the literature. We do not wish our smiles to freeze on the lips,
our hearts to coldly respond to the pleas of others, nor our minds even
temporarily inactive. We would get from winter thoughts of purity when
Mother Earth puts on her ermine mantle; of lightheartedness as the
children skate merrily over frozen waters glistening in the sunlight, or
faces smile out on you as sleighs skim by with their happy occupants; of
a happy home circle gathered about a great open fire as grandfather and
grandmother tell of bygone days when they too were young and enjoyed
roasting nuts or apples before the bright fire, or shook the corn-popper
till every kernel had burst into a toothsome morsel.”
I could easily imagine such happy scenes as Mr. Andrews pictured and
marveled not to find the “winter” room quite as he had described it. The
furniture was of a rich, warm coloring, still carrying out the hygienic
principle, since none of it was upholstered, but, as in the other rooms,
its odd shapes and restful pillows made it equally as inviting as if of
the richest satin. Against the snowy trimmings of the room and the
white-framed pictures it was most effective. The books of travel,
history and other more solid subjects, and magazines containing
biographic sketches and articles on topics of the day, invited real,
earnest reading. But an object of special interest was a rug of quite
good size, in the center of the floor, whose color was pure white. I
knew immediately that it was not fur, since they had told me that there
were no extremes in weather in that locality. Presumably, therefore, a
rug of that material would not find resting-place. On examination it
proved to be nothing but white cord. Mr. Andrews seeing my attention was
drawn to it explained,
“That rug we prize very highly, though so simple in its makeup. It is,
as you see, knit of plain white cord and put on a substantial backing.
One of our eldest ladies, now gone to rest, enjoyed passing some of her
leisure time in this way, with the result that the rug is not only
unique, but quite effective. Though from its fluffiness it looks
somewhat heavy, with the great conveniences in our laundry it is easily
washed and is therefore always white and clean.”
I could almost see the dear hands plying the needle, and the smiles of
pleasure that must have crossed the good woman’s face as she watched the
work grow beneath her nimble fingers till at last it was done and she
could give it, showing in its color the purity of her life, in its work
the activity of mind and heart till the last, and in all, her love for
this happy home on earth.
I liked this room so well I would fain have lingered, but I felt that
Mr. Andrews’s time was precious.
The one next to this proved to be an attractive corner which in itself
was none other than a small art gallery. I recognized copies of a number
of the masterpieces, well chosen, and intended, presumably, to carry out
their mission of creating true admiration and appreciation of the
beautiful. Here too were books about art and artists. Neat portfolios
contained specimens, which were more than fair, of some of the efforts
of members of the household. There were also a few excellent pieces of
statuary. At one side, hidden by light drapery, was an exit to another
room of larger size in which I discovered was a small, but seemingly
very fine pipe organ. Encircled in suitable frames were portraits of
Bach, Haydn and Handel, renowned for their exquisite religious
compositions. There were also enlarged copies of details from Sargent’s
famous Frieze of the Prophets and Abbey’s Quest of the Holy Grail, while
an excellent reproduction of Correggio’s Holy Night with all its
appealing sweetness awoke in me renewed admiration for the picture.
I felt instinctively that the purpose of this room was not only to give
opportunity for practice and pleasure to those whose musical ability lay
in this direction, but also, should any wish, to be used for sacred
service during Sunday hours or at other times. Turning to Mr. Andrews I
asked if my surmise was correct.
“Yes,” he said, “often many of our older members feel unable to take the
long trip to church. Frequently, also, the younger people for some
reason are disinclined to go. Amid such surroundings, however, there is
opportunity for all to express their praise and thanksgiving.”
Our way then led us to another room whose predominant coloring in
delicate greens, exquisite pictures, inviting books and graceful
furniture declared it to be indicative of spring with all her beauty of
leafing trees, budding blossoms, rippling waters released from winter’s
cold embrace and the time when all nature seems to have gained new life,
new strength, new inspiration. I think I liked this best. I could get
from it my conception of what our lives should be. Free from the
repelling cold of winter in our manner, in our thoughts and in our
hearts; free from the feeling of depression, lassitude and inactivity
accompanying hot summer days; free from the involuntary sense of sadness
and cheerlessness that sometimes comes to those who know the changes of
the seasons and in fall see the days glide by, now bright, now gloomy,
the leaves showing forth in all their autumn splendor before they gently
drop and die, and nature seems to have reached perfection only to wither
and decay. But spring carries the blessed thought of resurrection, of a
new life on earth and beyond, of hope and cheer, of inspiration to do
and to be what is best. So of all I proclaimed this my choice.
“Spring, Spring, beautiful spring
Laden with glory and light you some;
With the leaf, the bloom, and the butterfly’s wing,
Making our earth a fairy home.
The primroses glitter—the violets peep;
And zephyr is feasting on flower and bloom.
Arouse, ye sluggards, what soul shall sleep
While the lark’s in the sky, and the bee’s on the palm?
The sweetest song, and the loudest string,
Should pour a welcome to beautiful Spring.”
The beauty and restful peace of the entire place appealed to me so
strongly that I longed to ask permission to spend at least a part of my
vacation days there. The idea and wish growing stronger I turned to Mr.
Andrews and said,
“Pardon the many questions with which I may possibly trouble you, and
also what may be an unusual request. Do you ever take as boarders or as
temporary members of the household, to do their share of duties here,
strangers who may chance to find this delightful place?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Andrews, “we have had both, though we prefer the latter
for the reason that the visitor has better opportunity to study our
life, perhaps to make suggestions in lines of which we had not thought,
or to take our ideas with him or her, as the case may be, and sow the
good seed in other soil.”
“I fear that I should have little chance to do any such work though I
should certainly try.” I answered. My inward thought was, however, that
perhaps it would be possible for me to remain long enough to get a
thorough understanding of their life, describe it in such manner and
give it to the world in such form that the excellent work might thus be
increased indirectly by my efforts. Aloud, I continued,
“Would you be willing to take me as one or the other for a portion of my
leisure or for all? I could give some compensation and also share in
certain work.”
“I think,” said Mr. Andrews, “that we can arrange it satisfactorily to
both parties and would suggest that you send immediately for anything
further that you may require.”
“Thank you most sincerely,” I replied, “but in the meantime as we have
taken nearly all the morning in getting thus far and as you have
graciously permitted me to remain longer, shall I not excuse you, Mr.
Andrews, for those who have a greater claim on your time? I shall now
feel more or less free to roam at will in the rooms I have already seen
and do not wish to engage too much of the time of you good people.”
“I _am_ a little surprised to find that it is so late,” he answered,
“still one can hardly skim over our model if he would know it in all its
details. There are some patients whom I must see, so I will leave you
for a while.”
As he left me I turned to study more the grouping of the rooms we had
visited. They were on either side an elliptical shaped hallway that
terminated in a graceful entrance to the dining-room which was the full
width of the house at the rear. In the center of the hall was a most
ingeniously constructed fountain which served not only to beautify, but
also as a convenient place for drinking water for that floor. It
represented a miniature lake in which, indeed, sweet waterlilies
appeared to float. They proved to be, however, but fine enamel work in
colors so natural as to tempt one to gather the lilies as they lay
there. From the ewer in the right hand of the exquisitely carved figure
in the center, the water poured forth to the lake beneath, while in the
left hand another beautiful lily was upheld, completely hiding in its
cup a drinking-glass.
I lingered here with admiring gaze. The incandescent lights above had
shades of green and white only, and I longed for evening to come when I
could see the fountain in its full beauty. The potted ferns arranged so
cleverly amid the large pieces of natural rock made the effect very
charming. On the previous evening, being somewhat fatigued and
enthralled by all that I had seen before entering the house, I had given
this delightful spot only a cursory glance and had not realized how
beautiful it was.
Ascending the broad stairway I happened to meet Mrs. Chester and with
her had the pleasure of visiting several of the rooms and their
occupants.
Among the first on whom we called was an elderly gentleman. There he sat
in his easy chair, looking bright and cheerful despite the gray clouds
without. Our introduction revealed the fact that I had known some of the
younger members of his family, but they were all gone, and he, the last,
had come to this haven of rest and peace. Though a little feeble, he was
able to get about, slowly but surely, with the younger people’s help,
and I was happy to see as his companion a young boy who had been sitting
there so quietly that we had hardly noticed him.
“And who may you be,” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “I call myself Mr. Lansing’s ‘chum,’ because we spend
so much time together, but my name is Ned Tompkins.”
“So you are Mr. Lansing’s ‘chum.’ What do you mean by that?” I inquired.
“It is this way,” he said, “when they found and brought me here six
years ago Mr. Lansing saw me and began to take particular interest in
me. Though they were all good his kindness seemed to touch the right
spot and was very welcome to a waif like me, for he seemed like a
grandpa would be to a boy if he had one, and I never knew how nice it
was to have a real grandpa, but used to imagine it lots of times. So
I’ve tried to be all I could to him and have grown to love him dearly,
and we are good comrades. Aren’t we, Mr. Lansing?” he broke off
abruptly.
“That we are, my lad,” Mr. Lansing answered, “and very glad I am to have
you.” Turning to me he continued, “He makes the days go happily by for
me by bringing me the papers and reading (for my eyes don’t see just as
they used), and now and then we play checkers or the other games dear to
such old people as I, and days when I can’t get around so well, he never
forgets me up here.”
“But you don’t tell,” interposed Ned, “all you do for me, how you have
taken the old books down in the library and explained things to me as I
have read, and how we have built bridges, cut out steamboats from paper
and wood, and had the most wonderful trains and locomotives, and how we
have played we were in different stations and telegraphed and
telephoned, and best of all how we made a tiny little elevator and ran
it with electricity by attaching a wire to the current. Why, we have had
the greatest fun you ever saw, and now I am getting so big and strong
that he can trust himself to me and I am very proud and happy.” And he
tried to hide the tears that would come, despite his being ‘big and
strong,’ because, I suppose, they were tears of joy like many of us
have, in that he was able to do something in return for the old
gentleman’s kindness.
“Ned is a good boy,” said Mrs. Chester, “and every day we learn the
wisdom of our decision in taking the lad into our hearts and home.” The
kindly hand on the boy’s shoulder as she spoke these words and gentle
pat as we turned to go I know helped to keep warm his love and affection
for the dear good woman.
“I am very glad to have seen you both,” I said, in parting, “and know
that we shall meet often, for I am going to be here too for a while, and
enjoy this happy home. But good morning to you now, I want to see more
of the people here.”
As we left them I, as usual, immediately plied Mrs. Chester with many
questions.
“The man is no longer young,” I said, “in what way does he contribute to
your home here, for of course, like all the rest, he prefers to do
something.”
“In the first place,” replied Mrs. Chester, “his many fine attributes
and noble character are a lesson to each of us and an incentive to try
to become likewise.
‘He wears the marks of many years well spent,
Of virtue, truth well tried, and wise experience.’
Were there nothing else, it would be enough to have such a grand example
before us day after day to study. Beyond that, as you probably gathered
from what the boy said, Mr. Lansing is a fine scholar and can give of
his store of knowledge much for our benefit. Till his mind shall fail
utterly, we can draw from him in every way, and in any case, we shall
give of the love and kindness that fills our hearts for him. Ned is
indeed very glad that he is growing large, for when Mr. Lansing feels
too weak to attempt the long walk through the halls to meals, or out of
doors, he has a comfortable wheel-chair in which Ned not only rolls him
to the elevator to bring him downstairs, but takes him out in the open
air so that he has opportunity to enjoy with the rest of us all of God’s
precious gifts. He has but to ring his bell for anything wanted or to
share in whatever the hour may have in store, and we gladly serve him or
help him to join us. His prayers in our hours of religious service are
most helpful and beautiful, and not infrequently we hear his voice,
though weak, joining in our songs of praise and hymns of thanksgiving.”
“You can not realize how all this thoughtfulness and unselfish
consideration for older people impresses me, but does Ned never tire of
Mr. Lansing’s company, or is it the old story of opposites having strong
attraction for each other?” I smilingly asked.
“No,” replied Mrs. Chester, “Ned seems never too weary. On the contrary,
soon after his arrival he asked if he could not have a room near to Mr.
Lansing’s, which privilege we granted, and their constant and close
association has developed into a most loving relationship which is a
delight to us all.”
“It is most fortunate,” I answered, “that this is true as it works in so
satisfactorily with your aims and purposes.”
“It is but one more of the many things for which we have to be
thankful,” said Mrs. Chester in a tone of gratitude.
During our conversation we had walked leisurely along the hall, which in
itself was as attractive as every other part of the home. Beautiful
pictures graced the walls and evidently these people did not believe in
confining flowers, books, newspapers or other literature to any
particular spot, for there were numerous plants in unexpected corners,
whose bright bloom and delicate fragrance charmed you to them, and
magazines and papers on tables or in racks tempted one to gather a bit
of knowledge while resting in one of the easy chairs conveniently at
hand.
I glanced in the various chambers as we passed along and saw they were
being rapidly put in order. I wondered what sort of system could make
this part of the work run with almost clocklike precision, but when Mrs.
Chester told me that each who was able took care of her own rooms and
that the rest were looked after by voluntary choice and understanding
between the female constituency, I could quickly realize that with every
convenience at hand and willing, loving hearts, labor in all directions
for every one was as much pleasure as toil.
“As for the men,” said Mrs. Chester in farther explanation, “those who
seem best fitted for certain lines of work are given opportunity to
carry out their tastes and efforts in that direction, varying it during
leisure moments with whatever diversion appeals to them or a different
kind of work, if they choose, which latter they very often do. But how
this plan works you will find out later. Let us stop here and visit for
a while,” she concluded, at the same time knocking at the door of
another chamber.
A sweet voice bade us enter and on opening the door we found the
occupant to be, as I had supposed, a young woman of about twenty. She
was reclining against a bed-rest with comfortable pillows, but something
about her led me to think that she was a little helpless.
“This is Miss Delancey,” said Mrs. Chester in introducing us and I came
close so as to cordially press the fragile hand extended in greeting. We
chatted a while, and then Mrs. Chester said that she would excuse
herself and leave me with Miss Delancey for a little visit. I quite
enjoyed the prospect of seeing something of the character of this young
lady.
“Having found such an abundance of everything here to contribute to the
highest degree of health and happiness,” I said, “I think I hardly
expected to find any one who has not, seemingly, taken the elixir of
life and become proof against age or disease.”
“No,” she answered, smiling a little, “here is one who must ever be
dependent on the kindness of others. Though with assistance I can
sometimes get from the bed to a chair, the spine is affected and there
is little hope of my ever recovering. Ofttimes I have nearly given up,
but with the cheer and comfort of all these kind people I feel that I
have still much for which to be thankful, and so have tried to find my
special corner in life and to fill it as best I can even though a
cripple. God has blessed me with all the senses, and when I realize the
value of these contrasted with the loss of sight, hearing, or the power
of speech, life has become almost dazzling with all that it holds out
for me. You see,” she broke off, “that if nothing else, I am ever
anxious to talk to a willing listener.”
“And,” I added, “you certainly have a most willing one in me. I am only
too glad to hear that you may have to say, and am more than pleased that
you are inclined to talk so freely of yourself.”
“Yes,” she continued, somewhat meditatively, “I have decided that if
there is anything in my enforced invalidism that can be turned into a
joy, I am resolved to make it so. But at first you don’t know how hard
it was not to feel envious, disheartened, cross and fretful, until, as I
have said, I suddenly woke up and found that there was much for my brain
and hands to do if only the heart gave them the right impulse. So the
good people here give me what I ask for, within reason, and I spend my
time thinking, planning and studying to give of whatever in myself is
worth the giving. Fortunately, Mr. Andrews being a doctor, insures for
me the best of care. Also, one of the ladies here has been and is a most
excellent trained nurse and is kindness itself to me. Her generous
consideration of my welfare, and constant help and attention are a boon
and solace to my heart. All women have their vanities and weaknesses you
know,” she jestingly concluded.
“May I ask how you employ the hours to make the time slip by with other
than lagging footsteps?”
“Certainly,” Miss Delancey answered. “Being a woman and an invalid I one
day bethought me of the many who were afflicted likewise, but not so
happily situated, and I immediately tried to think what I could do and
how I could do it to make the days less weary for them as, perhaps, they
too lay in bed, unable to be up and doing. So I have taken from various
magazines and papers attractive pictures and good literature, and from
these the younger unfortunates have made small books, not too heavy,
with carefully arranged pages of different colored muslins. It has been
a pleasure also to select a short piece of poetry and search for a
picture or two to illustrate it. Again, I have taken prose writings and,
having a little ability for sketching, have drawn on white muslin,
pictures which I thought might make the story more readable. I have made
a number of such books for old and young, sending them far and wide, and
many are the letters of thanks I have received and wept over, realizing
from their tone that the writers had little idea that the maker of the
books was herself a cripple. Then too, I can sew fairly well and knit,
so the variation resulting from these occupations, besides reading and
studying for my own benefit, has given me plenty of employment and
sometimes I almost forget that I can’t walk and dance as many of my age
like to do.”
“Would that I could make you a sort of traveling object lesson in the
study of patience and submission,” I said, fearing not to give offense
by this remark, “for it seems to me that there are many persons blessed
with abundance of strength and health who could learn much from you and
make their own lives and the lives of those about them much happier. But
am I not staying too long, and, if you will pardon the question, may I
ask how you get your meals or join in the other activities of the
household?”
“If you only knew how glad I am to have you,” she cordially responded,
“you would not ask if you were staying too long. But in reply to your
other question,” she continued, “it is easy enough. The lady whom I have
mentioned, Mrs. Marvin (and by the way I hope you will meet her and
learn more of her) seems never to forget me, and either comes herself or
sends some one else, if something specially interesting is going on
downstairs, and at meal times it rests with myself as to whether I shall
be taken down or eat up here. Another young lady of almost my own age
has the next room and next to hers is Mrs. Marvin’s chamber. Our rooms
open into a fourth which serves as a little individual sitting-room for
all three and this we have most cosily arranged. We can even have our
own musicales, for the young lady plays the guitar and I the mandolin,
and we have many pleasant hours with ourselves and any others who come
to spend their leisure with us. To hear the laughter and ripple of talk
that emanates from here would hardly lead one to think that such a poor
one as I was among the number.”
As we were thus talking, a pleasant-faced woman entered the room after a
gentle rap, which must have been hers individually, because Miss
Delancey seemed to know who it was immediately.
“I am so glad you came just now, Mrs. Marvin,” she said, “as I was
anxious that I, particularly, should have the pleasure of making you
acquainted with our new friend here, which I do gladly.”
Mrs. Marvin’s gracious manners and genuine cordiality stamped her as the
sort of “spirit” one could never weary of, and I marveled not at Miss
Delancey’s affection for her.
She impressed me as the sort of woman to whom one would feel free to go
for sympathy and advice and who could be relied on. Though she was not
young, you could see in the smile on her lips, the brightness of her
eyes, and the elasticity of her movements that she had taken life
aright,—growing into womanhood with all that maturity of years and
judgment means, yet not failing to remember that we can keep the heart
young and so carry with us, notwithstanding advancing years, the
beautiful attributes of noble womanhood, even as the rose in its full
bloom has yet all the sweet fragrance of the opening bud.
Mrs. Marvin brought us to a realization that time was going and that the
next meal was about ready. Looking out I saw that though there was
hardly any sign of the early morning shower, save a diamond drop here
and there on the leaves and flowers, it was of course unwise to eat out
of doors, and concluded that we should have dinner, also, in the house.
As Miss Delancey had spoken of not always going downstairs, it occurred
to me to exercise my privilege of being a member of the family now, and
suggest that we three dine together. I therefore said,
“If it would be agreeable to both of you, it would be a pleasure to me
to have our meal up here and I shall be only too glad to get it for us
if you will direct me how and where to go. I want to learn everything,
you know,” I concluded with a little laugh.
“That would be very nice,” said Miss Delancey, “for me particularly, and
we shall endeavor to have sunshine within even if good old Sol does feel
like hiding his face a little today.”
After receiving instructions from Mrs. Marvin I set out to perform my
task. She said I need bring only food, as she kept all the necessary
articles for setting the table in a closet in her own room. On reaching
the kitchen I found that it was quite the easiest thing in the world,
apparently, to carry our repast upstairs or anywhere else, for the
matter of that. I was given one of the specially arranged light
wheel-tables,[A] with its various spaces and hollows in which the dishes
sat snugly, without danger of upsetting and their contents being
spilled. I took some of everything prepared for the meal, and as I
worked, could look into the dining-room where the tables were being made
ready. Though all was activity, so thorough was the understanding
between each person that everything seemed to go on as smoothly as if it
were at all times the duty of one individual to do a certain part and
nothing more. I had almost forgotten that my two guests were perhaps
patiently waiting for my return, and hastily rolling the table into the
elevator I was taken up and soon had everything before my friends for
them to make further disposition thereof.
-----
Footnote A:
In studying the economic gain from using, instead of a dumb-waiter, a
wheel-table or truck (provided of course one has the use of an
elevator) it seems to me that the greatest saving is in the matter of
steps, both in carrying and taking articles to and from a dumb-waiter.
A wheel-table can be rolled from point to point till everything has
been placed upon it. Food needing to be served hot has only to be put
in the dishes that are waiting for it, and the whole process to my
idea gives better satisfaction than the use of the dumb-waiter, except
insofar as the latter will always be convenient for economy of time
under certain circumstances too obvious to describe.
-----
I think that meal was a pleasant one to all three of us. The table so
invitingly arranged by Mrs. Marvin gave zest to our appetites, and the
quiet humor in many of her remarks together with Miss Delancey’s
sparkling conversation, made the time speed by rapidly. I was curious to
find out the former’s thoughts on women’s dressing and to how great a
degree the idea of simplicity was carried out in this establishment.
“Well,” said Mrs. Marvin in answer to my spoken question, “having spent
some years in a hospital, naturally my ideas incline strongly to the
greatest simplicity in dress for various reasons, among the first of
which is freedom of movement, that all the organs and every part of the
body may be able to perform without effort those functions for which
they were intended.”
I looked at her and frankly said, “If such is your belief and you carry
it out, you look neither like a dress reformist, nor yet a fashion-plate
figure. How is it that you are so successful in not attracting attention
as being either, and yet are such a fine example of a blending of both?”
“Very easily,” replied Mrs. Marvin. “By careful study I have discovered
that if our sex will demand certain kinds of materials and sensible
fashions there is no question but that they will get both.”
“First of all,” she continued, “I think you will concede that much of
the weakness, fretfulness, and constant worrying of women comes from the
fact that they suffer, through Fashion’s decree, irritation and
annoyance by wearing many useless things which are neither an addition
to their looks nor conducive to sweet tempers. When we have learned that
high collars cause headaches and affect the eyes, that tight shoes and
gloves prevent proper circulation, that the small wasp waist pushes
vital organs out of their proper positions, that trailing skirts carry
dust and dirt from place to place, even microbes of disease, and
finally, when we have become wiser by discarding all these things, then
we are on the high road to better health and better dispositions, which
in turn bring more contentment and courage to meet the _real_ trials and
vexations of life, and ought not this to result in more happiness for
ourselves and those coming in contact with us?”
“I can not help agreeing with you,” I replied, “for there is nothing but
truth in all you have said. But tell me,” I laughingly said, “how large
your store of patience is to hope for such a complete reform as this.”
“Well,” she replied, in the same light spirit, “if we here in this
household can set first class examples, at least _some_ steps will have
been taken, and after that we can only live in hope. Another thing we
have to learn, I think, is that almost one quarter of the life of woman
is spent in making garments look fresh and beautiful, only to be soiled
and wrinkled in a short while. As for myself, had I not discovered that
such articles were obtainable on the market, I think I should have
studied the manufacture of wearing materials that I might produce goods
for both men and women that would stand all the washing, rubbing, soap
and water that one might choose to give them, but would require none of
the time, patience and strength to press into smoothness which is placed
on the numerous pieces of clothing usually in our wardrobes.”
“Don’t think,” she continued a little banteringly, “that I do not
believe in the utmost cleanliness, or in that daintiness which is
peculiarly feminine, but I have come to know that we can have both, yet
can save three-fourths and more of the energy that is spent by others or
ourselves on pieces of clothing which, specially is stiffly starched,
make one decidedly uncomfortable, or announce the coming of the wearer
by much rustling. I think, however, that everything that is washable
should, as nearly as possible, be made of material that will save the
labor of hours in making perfectly smooth, only to be crumpled into
innumerable wrinkles almost in a moment’s use. Have your laces, have
your ribbons full and plenty, but have everything plain and dainty, easy
to put on and always attractive by its freshness and simplicity.”
“Your scheme would put out of existence part, at least, of a certain
means of livelihood to a number of people. However, since you give them
plenty to do in the way of washing I presume they may hope not to
starve,” I said jestingly.
“I feel quite sure on that point,” said Mrs. Marvin. “Here you will see
how easily we manage it and how much comfort every one takes, and yet I
think you will admit unhesitatingly that we are all satisfactory to
behold and some even more. I should consider that quite a few of our
ladies are very attractive. With unanimous consent to have everything
made as simple in style as possible, labor along the line of laundry
work is considerably reduced. Among our friends here are some who have
made this their business in life, as there are also others who have
perfected themselves in entirely different lines, and with their
knowledge and skill in management, constant study how to improve and
make the work easier, together with the help of others, _that_ part of
our home life has its bright sides also. Extravagant and useless waste
of fresh linen is avoided as much as possible. Therefore it is not
uncommon to find Mrs. Mann, who has direct supervision of the laundry,
ready to join any of us in our hours of discussion or practice of some
new music. She has a most delightful alto voice which is enjoyed not
only by those here, but by our many friends who chance to come in or are
invited to anything special going on.”
“Well,” said I, “you certainly have the happy faculty of making every
side of life interesting, and what a satisfaction it must be.”
We had long since finished eating and had been so engrossed in
conversation that I came very near neglecting my new duties, and
laughingly said I should receive a “black” mark for interrupting their
clocklike precision. I quickly gathered those dishes together which were
to be transported to the kitchen and then assisted in putting the room
in order. Miss Delancey looked as if she had enjoyed the hour and
commenced crocheting on the beautiful soft shawl she was making for one
of the elder ladies, and then Mrs. Marvin went to her own chamber.
Not long after this quiet reigned supreme and I concluded that the
restful hour, so much appreciated by all, had come and almost wished I
could peep about to see the individual inclination of each one. I was a
little curious to know how many there were who took the time for sleep.
This, however, was out of the question, so I contented myself by seeking
a book and a corner in the library, there to think and read.
Much to my surprise, on looking at my watch later, I discovered that I
too must have succumbed to the soothing influence about the home, for it
was quite an hour and a half since I had sought my quiet nook. Through
the open window near by came the sweet perfume of the flowers which
lured me out to enjoy the fragrant air before night again cast its
shadows around us. Having been given permission to investigate
everything, I felt free to wander where I would and so started for the
principal gardens. They covered quite a vast territory and besides
flowers of all kinds, whose beauty and luxury were a joy to behold, I
felt quite a strong admiration for the various vegetables which thrived
and grew so well under the care and watchful eye of Mr. Whitehurst.
It was growing late, however, so it was hardly wise to go very far, and
then it occurred to me that I should find more of the household busy out
here in the morning than at twilight, so concluding to make a visit some
other time I sauntered toward the house. Supper had been prepared and,
as on the evening before, we again had the pleasure of eating out of
doors.
“Well,” said a gentle voice behind me, which I recognized as Mrs.
Chester’s, “where have you been and how have you enjoyed yourself
today?”
“Very delightfully, Mrs. Chester,” I replied. “Every hour has been so
full that they have seemed to fly by and I have been very happy.”
“It is Saturday,” Mrs. Chester said as we seated ourselves at one of the
tables, “and I am glad that you chance to be here. We have very pleasant
times on Saturday evenings and I hope you will enjoy this one. Tonight I
believe there is an unusual list of attractions, if I may put it that
way. You seem so keenly interested in electricity that perhaps you will
enjoy the meeting of the ‘Magnets,’ otherwise known as one branch of the
club studying electricity. The other has taken the name ‘Electrodes.’ Of
course as we have such a large amount of machinery here it is the one
portion of our work that requires constant supervision. Consequently,
there are groups on and off, and for safety and the best possible
management it was necessary in this particular branch to hire an expert
outright. But he, too, has fallen into the spirit which reigns and has
an intelligent corps of able assistants who share with pleasure the
responsibility, as well as the diversion which comes in their hours of
leisure. It goes without saying that this part of our work runs very
smoothly. But to return to the club. It is in two sections as I have
said, which meet on alternate weeks. Both have interesting meetings and
there is a pleasant rivalry between them. They often manage so that
members of each can attend the meeting of the other section and we all
follow their studies and progress with much interest.”
“Though decidedly uninformed on this subject,” said I, “I am yet deeply
interested in it and shall without doubt enjoy spending some time with
them. But tell me, how do you all know what is going on?”
“Very easily,” she replied. “There is placed on the bulletin boards for
the benefit of all of us, programs of the various club meetings with
their dates. If there is an agreement between the musical people to have
something in that line, a statement is posted of that. Or, if a purely
social hour is arranged for dancing or games, notice of that is given so
that each person has a chance to follow his or her own taste.”
“A dance is arranged for tonight,” she continued, “and if you like that
sort of pleasure you can possibly divide up your time so as to share in
that also.”
“I am quite feminine,” I answered, as we arose from the table, “and
enjoy as much as the very youngest the witchery of rhythmic music, a
smooth floor, and a partner whose perfect step makes the whole a most
exquisite delight.”