feel under obligations at that!" answered his wife. "But you read ahead. It is most instructive. We shall have to ask her to read a paper for the Club!"
"'In further consideration of the conditions of the time, I am willing to accept part payment in board and lodging instead of cash. Such accommodations as are usually offered with this position may be rated at $17.00 a month.'"
"O come now, don't we board her any better than that?"
"That's what I thought, and I asked her about it, and she explained that she could get a room as good for a dollar and a-half a week—she had actually made inquiries in this very town! And she could; really a better room, better furnished, that is, and service with it. You know I've always meant to get the girl's room fixed more prettily, but usually they don't seem to mind. And as to food—you see she knows all about the cost of things, and the materials she consumes are really not more than two dollars and a half a week, if they are that. She even made some figures for me to prove it—see."
Mr. Porne had to laugh.
"Breakfast. Coffee at thirty-five cents per pound, one cup, one cent. Oatmeal at fourteen cents per package, one bowl, one cent. Bread at five cents per loaf, two slices, one-half cent. Butter at forty cents per pound, one piece, one and a-half cents. Oranges at thirty cents per dozen, one, three cents. Milk at eight cents per quart, on oatmeal, one cent. Meat or fish or egg, average five cents. Total—thirteen cents."
"There! And she showed me dinner and lunch the same way. I had no idea food, just the material, cost so little. It's the labor, she says that makes it cost even in the cheapest restaurant."
"I see," said Mr. Porne. "And in the case of the domestic servant we furnish the materials and she furnishes the labor. She cooks her own food and waits on herself—naturally it wouldn't come high. What does she make it?"
'Food, average per day.............$0.35
Room, $1.50 per w'k, ave. per day.....22
——-
.57
Total, per month... $17.10
$1.50 per day, per month... $45.00
"'Remaining payable in cash, $28.00.' Do I still live! But my dear Ellie, that's only what an ordinary first-class cook charges, out here, without all this fuss!"
"I know it, Ned, but you know we think it's awful, and we're always telling about their getting their board and lodging clear—as if we gave'em that out of the goodness of our hearts!"
"Exactly, my dear. And this amazing and arithmetical young woman makes us feel as if we were giving her wampum instead of money—mere primitive barter of ancient days in return for her twentieth century services! How does she do her work—that's the main question."
"I never saw anyone do it better, or quicker, or easier. That is, I thought it was easy till she brought me this paper. Just read about her work, and you'll feel as if we ought to pay her all your salary."
Mr. Porne read:
"Labor performed, average ten hours a day, as follows: Preparation of food materials, care of fires, cooking, table service, and cleaning of dishes, utensils, towels, stove, etc., per meal—breakfast two hours, dinner three hours, supper or lunch one hour—six hours per day for food service. Daily chamber work and dusting, etc., one and one-half hours per day. Weekly cleaning for house of nine rooms, with halls, stairs, closets, porches, steps, walks, etc., sweeping, dusting, washing windows, mopping, scouring, etc., averaging two hours per day. Door service, waiting on tradesmen, and extras one-half hour per day. Total ten hours per day."
"That sounds well. Does it take that much time every day?"
"Yes, indeed! It would take me twenty!" she answered. "You know the week I was here alone I never did half she does. Of course I had Baby, but then I didn't do the things. I guess when it doesn't take so long they just don't do what ought to be done. For she is quick, awfully quick about her work. And she's thorough. I suppose it ought to be done that way—but I never had one before."
"She keeps mighty fresh and bright-looking after these herculean labors."
"Yes, but then she rests! Her ten hours are from six-thirty a.m., when she goes into the kitchen as regularly as a cuckoo clock, to eight-thirty p.m. when she is all through and her kitchen looks like a—well it's as clean and orderly as if no one was ever in it."
"Ten hours—that's fourteen."
"I know it, but she takes out four. She claims time to eat her meals."
"Preposterous!"
"Half an hour apiece, and half an hour in the morning to rest—and two in the afternoon. Anyway she is out, two hours every afternoon, riding in the electric cars!"
"That don't look like a very hard job. Her day laborer doesn't get two hours off every afternoon to take excursions into the country!"
"No, I know that, but he doesn't begin so early, nor stop so late. She does her square ten hours work, and I suppose one has a right to time off."
"You seem dubious about that, my dear."
"Yes, that's just where it's awkward. I'm used to girls being in all the time, excepting their day out. You see I can't leave baby, nor always take him—and it interferes with my freedom afternoons."
"Well—can't you arrange with her somehow?"
"See if you can. She says she will only give ten hours of time for a dollar and a half a day—tisn't but fifteen cents an hour—I have to pay a woman twenty that comes in. And if she is to give up her chance of sunlight and fresh air she wants me to pay her extra—by the hour. Or she says, if I prefer, she would take four hours every other day—and so be at home half the time. I said it was difficult to arrange—with baby, and she was very sympathetic and nice, but she won't alter her plans."
"Let her go, and get a less exacting servant."
"But—she does her work so well! And it saves a lot, really. She knows all about marketing and things, and plans the meals so as to have things lap, and it's a comfort to have her in the house and feel so safe and sure everything will be done right."
"Well, it's your province, my dear. I don't profess to advise. But I assure you I appreciate the table, and the cleanness of everything, and the rested look in your eyes, dear girl!"
She slipped her hand into his affectionately. "It does make a difference," she said. "I could get a girl for $20.00 and save nearly $2.60 a week—but you know what they are!"
"I do indeed," he admitted fervently. "It's worth the money to have this thing done so well. I think she's right about the wages. Better keep her."
"O—she'll only agree to stay six months even at this rate!"
"Well—keep her six months and be thankful. I thought she was too good to last!"
They looked over the offered contract again. It closed with:
"This agreement to hold for six months from date if mutually satisfactory. In case of disagreement two weeks' notice is to be
