Duties of Brides Taught In College

1920

CLASS NOW LEARNING "HOW TO STAY MARRIED."

Engaged Girls Strive Hard for Immunity Against Grouchy Mates and Alluring Vamps.

DENTON, Texas, Jan. 1. — A school, unique in its purpose and unprecedented in the Southwest, is being conducted under the auspices of the College of Industrial Arts, a school for women here. "How to stay married" is what it teaches, and eighteen young ladies, from various towns in Texas, whose engagements have been announced, are the pupils.

For the purpose of giving these and other young ladies who expect to make homes for some good men, proper instructions in the art of housekeeping and home making, two cottages have been rented by the college. The members of the "How to Stay Married" class are actually keeping house in these cottages, and under the tutorage of a very successful married woman, are wrestling with the various problems which confront the housewife from the altar to the grave.

Right Down to Brass Tacks.

Those young ladies are making up the beds, mopping the floors, preparing sample meals for the prospective husbands, sweeping, ironing, dusting, arranging pictures on the walls, setting the table, washing dishes, polishing stoves and brushing the ceilings. Also they are preparing for receptions, entertaining guests, giving dinners, presiding at social functions and doing a little of any and everything which may fall their lot in after life.

But the mere drudgery of housework does not compose the entire course of "How to Stay Married." There are courses in the business of housekeeping. The students keep accurate sets of books showing imaginary expenses their "house" involves. They do the buying of groceries, complain about the prices, battle for reduction and full weight. They wrangle with the ice man and argue with the butcher. They skimp here and there and deposit their "earned" savings in the bank. They make old gowns over, Johnny's pants from father's old ones, convert worn out dresses into aprons for the girls or themselves and even make dishrags from old flour sacks.

Find Delight In Their Work.

They have their meals for "husband and the family" on the dot and they are all prim when the time for "hubby" to come home from work or the office arrives. It's a strenuous life, but the students declare they like it and are learning things which will be useful to them.

The matron in charge of the class and the president of the college have told the girls "that if they complete the course arranged for them and carry out the practices inculcated therein they will have husbands when they have grandchildren." The teacher said "girls who complete and follow this course of instruction need never fear any vamps, late nights, grouches or divorces."

The college expects to increase its activities along these lines during the next term of school. It is said already a number of young ladies have applied for the course next year. Those who graduate are given special diplomas.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 8.

Insurance Against Surgical Operations

1902

In England people of moderate means are beginning to insure themselves against surgical operations. The plan is that subscribers who pay an annual fee shall be entitled either to free admittance to a hospital or nursing at home and a free operation or to a fixed sum paid down to defray the cost of an operation if one becomes necessary.

In England, as here, the cost of surgical repairs to the human body has become oppressively great to persons who just manage to pay their way. People who are obviously poor get a great deal of excellent surgical and medical treatment in hospitals and elsewhere for nothing, but for the next class above them a serious illness — especially if it involves an operation — is almost ruinous. It would seem as if the time was near when societies for insurance against specialists might be profitably organized in the larger American cities.

The specialist has come to be a very important — indeed, an indispensable — institution, especially to families in which there are children. The office of the family doctor has now become simplified to the task of coming in and telling the patient which specialist to go to. It is not that specialists charge too much, for their honorable services are above price. It is that landlord, butcher, baker, grocer, milkman, coalman, dentist, and trained nurse do not leave you money enough to pay them appropriately.

To subscribe a considerable sum annually and have all the repairs and desirable improvements made in one's family without further disbursement would be a comparatively simple way out of a troublesome predicament. — Harper's Weekly.

His First Oration

1899

The author of "Little Journeys to the Homes of American Statesmen" tells of his experience when a new teacher inaugurated "Friday Afternoons," to be devoted to "speaking pieces." He had been well drilled at home, but his spirits ran lower and lower as the fateful Friday drew near.

Thursday night I slept little, and all Friday morning I was in a burning fever. At noon I could not eat my luncheon, but I tried manfully, and as I munched the tasteless morsels, salt tears rained on the johnny-cake.

Even when the girls brought in big bunches of wild flowers and corn-stalks and began to decorate the platform, things appeared no brighter.

Finally the teacher went to the door and rang the bell. Nobody seemed to play, and as the scholars took their seats, some, very pale, tried to smile. Others whispered, "Have you got your piece?" Still others kept their lips working, repeating lines that struggled hard to flee.

Names were called, but I did not see who went up, neither did I hear what was said. At last my name was called. It came like a clap of thunder — a great surprise, a shock. I clutched the desk, struggled to my feet, passed down the aisle, the sound of my shoes echoing through the silence like the strokes of a maul. The blood seemed ready to burst from my eyes, ears and nose.

I reached the platform, missed my footing, stumbled, and nearly fell. I heard the giggling that followed, and knew that a red-haired boy, who had just spoken, and was therefore unnecessarily jubilant, had laughed aloud.

I was angry. I shut my fists so that the nails cut my flesh, and glaring straight at his red head, I shot my bolt:

"I know not how others may feel, but sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart to this vote. It is my living sentiment, and by the blessing of God it shall be my dying sentiment. Independence now, and independence forever."

That was all of the piece. I gave the whole thing in a mouthful, and started for my seat, got half-way there, and remembered I had forgotten to bow, turned, went back to the platform, bowed with a jerk, started again for my seat, and bearing some one laugh, I ran.

Reaching the seat, I burst into tears.

The teacher came over, patted my head, kissed my cheek, and told me I had done first-rate, and after hearing several others speak, I calmed down and quite agreed with her. — Youth's Companion.