TOE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX PORTLAND, AUGUST 13, 1923
A
X
.re 1011 Beeping an
onVour
mo
Then Listen to What a Stenographer Knows of Her Employer's Henpecked Home Life
Eye
Bns0ancl St
3"A contrail between the homekeeper and the officekeeper is a big one and,
oftentimes, hideously unfair.
BY MATME OBER PEAK.
IN LIFE'S triangles the stenographer
seems to play a leading role. The
movies and the colorful pens of the
tletiocUt are wont to picture her as a
blondo ump in long earrings, short
skirts and flesh-colored silk hose, with a
filmy georgette waist frankly exploiting
physical charms. As tempter of man all
the sins In the decalogue are laid at her
door.
It Is not surprising that you have,
come to look upon the woman In your
husband's office as a bad Influence. But
it Is surprising that, while considering
her beneath yonr social notice, you have
failed to consider her as a force to be
reckoned with. Trusting in your own
charms, you wouldn't acknowledge for
the world that your husband's stenogra
pher had anything to do with the "busi
ness engagement" that detained him
downtown even if your suspicions were
aroused!
One wife and mother, however, freely
admits her fears. In a recent letter com
menting on a series of articles anent the'
laxity of standards and growing way
from the family hearthstone, she writes
that she considers "the woman in the
Intimate employ of men" responsible for
the conditions and a direct menace to
home life.
"I am a plain home-maker," she says,
"with the sixth of my seven sons and
daughters to graduate from high school
mis weec. une to iouow soon, ana 1 ieei
that I really know something about borne
life and its problems. For years there'
bas been in my mind and upon my heart
a desire to make a statement la regard
to the home life of America.
"We ar all so very thankful that our
girls may receive an education as well as
our boys. But every reader admits that,
with all the education and advancement,
there is something wrong somewhere.
And there is something vitally wrong
when so much In written In regard to the
conditions of home lite.
"For myself I have not felt It so much,
but there must be a cause tor the neglect
of the home. For fully two generations
our coucirj 10 particular una (uuo no
nd on educating the young women to go
into the intimate employ of men. which
is the most powerful wedge that ever
penetrated to tho very foundations of the
life of the home.
"It does not mean that there is an Im
moral condition existing, but It does
mean this: In a measure the wife of to-'
day Is superseded by the woman in the
employ of your husband. So far it seems
that very few people are considering this
as & direct menace to home life, and
parents go on placing their daughters
into the Intimate employ of men, ignor
ing the influence that this has upon the
borne life of that man. ignoring the influ
ence upon the man and the influence
upon the young woman.
"It is all too true wives have turned
to ail sorts of activities outside the. home
to find a something that will satisfy the
couL Some of them fully realise the
danger to the home; others are appar
ently unconscious of the cause which
makes them restless.
"Girl and women today are Just as
eager for the best interests of their hut
bands as ever In the world, but until this
almost polygamous practice ceases and
we return to 'one woman beside one man'
we shall not see a return to a normal
home life."
It Is to give the wife an intimate and
fairer insight into the business life of her
husband and bis assistant an Insight
that may perhaps tarn the tables and
cause her to counteract outside competi
tion with a more satisfying home life
that I set down here the plain, unvar
nished truth as told in her own words by
the "average stenographer." of whom
there are thousands and thousands as
against the hundreds of the flapper type.
"To begin with. I'm not a blonde." she
says. "A blind man could see that. And
my worst enemy wouldn't call me. a
m n , r m a. iipnoiriDucr.
"I have always thought I had the
proper amount of dignity, wore enough
clothes and a sufficiently detached air in
a business office to discourage personal
attentions from men and took my Job
seriously.
"My office wardrobe is composed en
tirely of well-made, simple one-piece
dresses with detachable collars and cuffs
or of wash shirtwaists with stocks. My
hair is neither bobbed nor permanent
waved, nor are my ankles encased in a
filmy silk hose of the latest clock. And I
do not posMas a sealskin coat! There is
nothing loud or extreme about me and.
so fsr as I am aware. I have no Jarring
bablts. I never powder my nose in pub
tic, use a lip stick in private or pull oat
my eyebrows by the root. There is no
gum rolling round in my mouth or stuck
on the bottom of my desk. Yet I am a
stenographer!
"And. speaking in terms of quantity
not quality the average stenographer is
Just like me. There are thousands of
them earning their living today, pound
ing the typewriter, who are wholesome,
well educated, refined young women,
with their hearts In their Jobs and their
heads turned toward some promised goal.
Instead of spending every dollar on' our
backs, as we get the credit for, most of
ns are helping to pay the mortgage on
the farm, sending kid brothers to school
and in many ways lightening the burdens
for the old folks at home.
"Our work-a-day life is brimful of in
terest. I'll admit. We are on the Inside of
big things, and those of us who are con
fidential stenogrsphers and secretaries
are intrusted with secrets of great mo
ment. We are upsetting the old tradi
tions we can keep our business secrets
Just as we keep our youth and our good
looks and our minds.
"There is an elixir in business, with its
pulsing activity, contact and demand
upon one's intellect and audacity, that
keeps a woman young. You will find
very few of the familiar type known as
'settled' among ns. For now that the
matrimonial altar is- no longer the tip
most top of feminine ambition, the
woman, who at 40 used to regard her life
as past its climax, proclaiming it by her
slovenly corpulence, carelessness of toilet
and monotony of expression, no longer
reaches this stags of physical and mental
deterioration if she is in business.
"No, indeed; her mind is Just then en
tering its period of greatest dexterity and
is the boss' wife who takes the su
perior attitude, patting herself on
the higher plane and looking down
on her husband's stenographer.
GALAHAD Oregon's
Cont1wo4 From Pag 4
happened it was Browning: he fiaid sorue
thlng was 'as prickly as a whin.' I said
to him 'you did not say whin, did you?
Don't you mean pin?' He said "No, whin,
Whin! I did not know there was such
a word but I wrote it down, and when
ha was gone I approached Noah Web
ster, to find that whin is a name for
Scotch gorse than which nothing is
more prickly."
Galahad's Sweetheart r in Death.
Galahad loved a Portland girl, re
ferred to as Helen In much of his work.
Marriage was impossible on account of
bis condition, but the flame of affection
burned brightly for both until she died
daring the influenza epidem'c of 1919.
Galahad swore that he was In communi
cation with her in the other world and
that she aided him. This win explain
something of the following:
Thin yon know The Tent Maker's Pu
pil'? When Khayyam came to me that day
I was thinking- about a friend whom I value
very highly. He said the moment he came
in: 'Vet there n a woman like that to
me once, too. I knew hie voice, but I
turned to look at him nevertheless. 'Old
your aaid I.
"Ha asked: 'Have you read that veree of
mine which run:
"And when yourself with stiver foot shall
paos
Among- the Goeets. star-scat ter'd on the
grass.
And in your joyous errand reach the BTot
Where I made one turn down an empty
g-Iase"?
"I aaid of course that I bad read and
strength; her best Judgment Just being
formed at 40. Whereas, the stay-at-home,
who has ceased to take any active
interest in what goes on outside her four
walls, who has reached the high-water
mark to which the tide of feminine life
flows. Just because she has married and
has children, sjumps back and becomes
old before her time. Three hundred and
sixty-five days In' the year she has the
same thoughts, the same perspective, the
same monotonous trials and worries
which she pours into the ears of her hus
band 365 nights.
"The contrast between the home
keeper and the office-keeper is a big one
and oftentimes hideously unfair. It Is
the boss' wife, however, who, strange to
say, takes the superior attitude, putting
herself on the higher plane and looking
down on her husband's stenographer.
"Once when the boss was sick I had to
take the mail to his home and go over
It with him every day. He was fairly well
off, had a comfortable home with .well
trained servants, and there was no reason
why his wife shouldn't have had suffi
cient time to keep herself fit mentally
and physically. But as many times as I
went to that house I never saw her look
anything but disheveled and unattractive,
or heard her discuss anything bat the
children and the servants and what
things cost. She looked every day of 50,
when I happen to know she was still on
the sunny side of 30.
"I am sure Mr. Blank loved her, but
what a severe strain she put on that love,
pestering him with telephone calls and
dally recitations of domestic woes daring
office hours!
"Regularly, every morning. Just as
we'd get started on the morning mail, she
would ring up. 'May I speak to Mr.
Blank,' she would inquire in her haughty,
things-have-gone-wrong voice.
" 'Ask her what she wants,' Mr. Blank
invariably requested.
Mr. Blank is awfully busy Just now,
Mrs! Blank, and wants to know if I can
take the message."
" 'Tell Mr. Blank.' bristles Mrs. Blank,
'to come to the phone at once!
"Mr. Blank takes the receiver, stands
on one foot and then the other, finally
gets in a word.
" 'Well, try another dealer. Coal's hard
to get these days, as you'd know if you
read the papers, and . . .'
" 'What's that? You don't have time
to keep up with current events? Don't be
silly, Delia. The man hasn't got any
grudge against us; we don't owe him any
thing. He's telling the truth; he's prob
ably got no coal. Better call up another
dealer right away.
"Hanging up the receiver, Mr. Blank
patiently return to his desk, with a bit of
shadow on his face and a distracted look.
A few hours later. Mrs. Blank telephones
to advise Mr. Blank that Bobby is threat
ened with one of his stomach attarks and .
she has Just put him to bed, which means
that, as it Is the maid's afternoon off, she
will have to give up her bridge game at
the club. And will Mr. Blank please
bring some fruit when he comes home?
"With his mind scattered in 40 differ
ent directions, Mr. Blank settles down
to work again. Between 4 and 6, that
part of the day when nerves are worn and
frazzled, Mrs. Blank calls up Mr. Blank,
in the midst of dictating a letter about
that R and X contract he's been trying to
land for a month; baring got my wireless
that it was no use to resist, he reached
helplessly for the receiver.
"What is it, dear?" he asks. "Is Bobby
worse? Oh!" he sighs. - relieved, "and
what is everybody else paying?"
"You don't know. Then what makes
you think he is asking too much? Um,
yes. Uh, huh, yes. I know. I have heard
all that before. I can't run my business
on imagination and
"No. that you dontl he fairly snorts
in exasperation.
"Whatever it was that Mr. Blank said
Mrs. Blank didn't, she kept on yelling,
she did, she did, until Mr. Blank's
patience went off like a lighted stick of
dynamite. Throwing the receiver In the
air with such force as -to upset the gem
clips on my desk, knock off my letter
basket and spill Ink on the single-space
letter in my typewriter, he blued it with
cuss words and he-man ravings.
" 'Idea, calling me up 60 times a day;
ask me where to get coal and where to
get a man to put it in, why she had to
pay so much for coal and pay so much
to a man! Better ask President Harding
loved every word ho wrote. Then h ex
plained that veree.
"By the Guet he meant the dead.
(Guests of God.) The Guests star-scat-ter'd
on the grass a graveyard. He re
minded me of a day I had stood on a low
hill and looked dome upon a graveyard in
the dusk and he asked mo if I didn't think
It was In effect like the stars in the sky at
night. I was startled to think how like It
was. Then he told me he and she had had
a saying- concerning- the "goblet of love In
the heart for a friend, filled to- the brim and
running- over.' And ha held that when a
friend died the class went dry and was
gradually filled for another friend. And he
did not want her roaming- around in the
dusk, laying- flowers on senseless grass,
where nothing- that was really him had, ever
lain. But he wanted that class in her
heart from him turned down empty. And
wHh that explanation, and with him standing-
at my elbow giving- me the words, I
wrote The Tent Maker's Pupil.' "
In "The Tent Maker's Pupil," which
attracted a great deal of attention and
comment when published, every verse
ends with a line from "The Tentmaker.'.'
Love for Oregon Strong.
As one of his earlier works he wrote a
poem called "Oregon" that he dedicated
to his beloved state, with these words
written at the top: "It I should die,
think only this of me: That there's some
corner of a frozen field that is forever
Oregon' with the indulgence of Rupert
Brooke." This poem was written when
he was adventuring.
Just to give some idea of the indom
itable spirit of the man, tho man who
why labor's so damn high; not me!
Ought to be glad to get coal 'tall. Much
as I've got to think about. Have to dig
for money, dig for coal OUTRAGE!
Wish I lived in a steam-heated flat; no
coal, no wife. Women bother the life out
of a man with their eternal demands!
"During this explosion I would sit as
quiet as a piece of office furniture, dying
to laugh. It was a scene enacted several
times a week, but in a rage Mr. Blank
was so funny I never got used to him.
Once he caught me trying to hide a smile.
" 'Please, Miss Brown, forgive me. I
forgot you were here.' He looked so
shamefaced and boyish and ill-used, I
gave way to my feelings and roared. He
- laughed with me tempest and sunshine.
'Thank the Lord,' he said, settling back
in his chair, 'there are some women left
who have a sense of humor. Miss Brown,
I sometimes think if wives could get a
little office training they'd understand
their husbands better.
" " 'Agreed, said I. 'I'm learning a lot
about matrimony, in business.'
"I understand perfectly, for Instance,
why Mr. Blank asked me later to tele
phone that he had a business engagement
and wouldn't be home for dinner. After
one, of these trying days, home to him
meant an atmosphere of unrest, where
the wheels of domestic machinery scraped
on his nerves. Before facing it, he must
needs have relaxation at his club.
"Not long ago I heard a married man
say: 'The first hour after I get home
from the office is the most trying of the
whole day. If I could go off by myself
and relax for an hour before dinner, I'd
feel like a new man. But that's the time
I have to tackle the furnace, hear about
the burst water pipes, and the thousand
and one things that have gone wrong dur
ing the day. If Elizabeth would only
wait until I had smoothed out the office
wrinkles, how differently I'd meet her
and her domestic trials. But she doesn't
seem to understand, and I am afraid to
have a frank talk with her for fear of
hurting her feelings."
"Yes, we learn a lot about matrimony
in business. -And about men, because in
their business relations with women they
are quite frank. We are on the same
footing and, side by side, are playing the
same game of pleasing the stenogra
pher her employer, her employer his
clients or customers.
"And, while there is no very fine cour
tesy found there, each demands a certain
quality of consideration and respect from
the other. And gets it. If a man loses
his temper and cusses out his stenogra
pher, she leaves him and" gets another Job
and a better-tempered employer. On the
other hand, if we do not do our part and
take our Job seriously, we lose it.
"How seriously does, the boss' wife
take her Job? While we are helping the
boss Inside, what is she doing outside to
help him? Does he sometimes find him
self making comparisons between the
woman working side by side with him
in his office life with the woman pulling
away from him in his home life?
"I remember the wife of a former em
ployer who used to send all of her per
sonal bills to the office for me to add up,
draw checks for and pay. She was a so
cial butterfly, apparently assuming no
more responsibility than that little
bright-hued Insect! She sipped the honey
of life while the boss drank the bitters
and paid the bills.
"Did he ever complain? No, but I did
for him as I made out checks for that
trifling wife. It seems to me that if I
had somebody furnishing the money for
my bills, at least I could bear the exer
tion of handing It over.
"She would drag the boss off from the
most important business to a fool pink
tea or garden party that she thought he
ought to attend with her 'for the sake of
appearances. But when the boss wanted
to bring a business friend home to dinner
or show him some social attention 'for
the sake of appearances,' it was a differ
ent story! She couldn't and wouldn't be
bothered. The only time I ever accepted
an invitation from an employer was once
when the boss needed a woman sorely to
fill the place his wife refused.
"Not only did I have to act as financial
secretary for this self-occupied woman,
but social as well. 'Would I kindly call
up Mrs. Highbrow Greene and find out
what the literary progranime was for
Friday, and would I mind dropping by
on my way home and getting her invita
tion list, as she wanted cards sent out for
Own Poet
served in the 11th cavalry, not in the
booming times of war, when all men's
patriotism was at its height, but in the
time of peace, his last letter to his sis
ter, written Just eight days before he
died, is herewith published:
"April 5, 1923. My Beloved Sister: Since
Helen came to me and told me the end was
near Z'v tried to map out everything-- My
strength Is already going- and I know I
have to work fast. You'll find, a letter to
you concerning; everything- anent my busl--ness
in the files when I am gone.
" "Of all poems you will find three carbon
copies always keep at least two. You'll
find three carbon copies to each of the
letters I -write you,
"This one is about that book Stork has
now. If he falls to place It, you take it
back and work It over. Omit some of
those things you wanted me to omit, and
fire It out yourseuf. But whatever you
do, don't don't let anyone elae touch it
not anyone!
"Oh, damn- It all Why have I got to die?
I know I have, but why? Why can't I live
to attend to ail this myself? But there
Is no use walling about it the end is here
and ell I can do is leave you such minute
details that you can't possibly fail.
"You know I have saved all the best
stuff for the later publication and you
know why. So make this volume go with as
little substitution as you can.
"Get together with Sid about It, and he'll
tell you all you need to know. He's a wise
boy and he's my friend.
"Now, deal" that's about all there fs to
ay regarding 'Glory." And for God's sake
don't let them ask Masefieldefor a preface!
I'm leaving- a letter to be forwarded to
Masefield Just one month from the date
of my death. That will settle all interfer
ence with, the relationship between him
frhu II Ht-rTT
Mr. Blank's patience went off
a bridge tea?' My regular duties were
heavy enough without this additional
burden, which necessitated overtime
work, but I had to carry it because it
was the boss' wife who had imposed it,
and cheerfully, too.
"In a business office one learns to do
things cheerfully. Men won't have
' grouchy, fussy women' around them In
business. Whether we feel like it or not,
we have to wear a pleasant front and
discharge our duties agreeably. We
learn self-control and tact lessons we
never forget. '
"Wifehood and motherhood Is a big
Job much bigger, harder and more re
sponsible than the one we've got. It
may not be so full of interest, but it is
. much fuller of Joy and reward. I don't
mean to preach to the boss' wife. But, as
woman to woman, to pass on what I have
learned about matrimony in my Job in
the hope that It might help her in her
Job, which 'is much more worth holding
than mine."
Now, then, - friend wife, -this sensible
business woman, who has been in the
business world long enough to learn these
lessons, is the average stenographer who
types your husband's letters every day
and runs your chores when you ask her.
Be very sure that friend husband isn't
making any very - odious comparisons,
when he comes home at night, between
you and this obliging, agreeable, well
groomed, common - sense young woman
who bas been interested in his work all
day, has carried out his wishes and is
alive and alert to the big things going on
in his world.
If you happen to be one ' of those
women with a despised body and an ex
alted soul, better get a move on you to
the beauty doctor's. Friend husband
won't work with a woman of that type
and, first thing you know, he'll refuse to .
live with one. ' No matter if we have got
the vote and business careers, we've got
to keep on being pretty If we want to get
As tempter of man, all the sins of the
decalogue are laid'at her door.
husbands and hold them. And till the
end of time that's what every woman will
want most. There's no getting round
that fundamental fact!
For, while the business woman who
with her feminine charms vamps her em
ployer is as stupid as the wife who
doesn't, the man who succumbs to the
temptation and elopes with his stenogra
pher often does so because he hasn't got
a square deal at home. It isn't so much
and me. So all you need to do Is mall that
letter at that time or sooner, if you have
any reason for thinking: it ought to reach
him.
"Oh Z feel so Impotent here on the
door of death. I know you're about the
only one who'll; do exactly what I want
done. So I've left things so no one but you
can even look at 'em! They will think,
'Poor devil he's out of the way we can
do as we please with his Junk.' But not you,
Bettey (thank God for you) not you! So
stand up on your two solid little feet and tell '
'em all to go to hell. I'll certainly be with
you all the wayl Forever! "JOE."
And, in closing, Just one more extract
from one of Galahad's letters:
',1 write because It has always been the
great love of my life; because I had as soon
try to Uve without breathing as without
writing; because I love it so much I can't
let it alone! And I think the physical Joe
was crucified, for that one purpose to turn
all his creative powers into the intensely
beautiful channel of poesy. Think of all
tn racket I've been through always frail
made an enlistment in the army simply
because the recruiting officer was drunk
(and. that was the third try at it), dis
charged husky and well found my woman
and made a great dream for the future and
in six months was hit by pneumonia, which
turned into T. B. so all the lovely dreams
went to smash we parted and tha next
ten years have been a physical hell seven
operations, all to no purpose and invalided
at thirty-three years.
"And yet out of these crowded expe
riences, out of all this pain and loss, I
have found my tongue I have found the
ability to write as I never could have done
had I been- well and Helen lived and. we
two had been married! I was set apart for
a poet and all other avenues of expression
turned from me! But Z am very happy.
My writing brings me a continual delight;
friends like you fill my days with deep
content despite 'the silly pain; and the
world shall know a litle more of beauty
from what I leave behind. Surely He doeth
all things well! The path lies very clear,
now; and a great inner peace is spreading
itself over my closing days."
WfTBf "
like a lighted stick of dynamite.
what he runs away with, in other words,
as what he runs from.
As a matter of fact, I never actually
knew of but one case of a man eloping
with his stenographer. Next door to
where I Visited last summer was a very
attractive looking house, setting back in
spacious grounds. The windows fairly
crinkled in starchy curtains; the porches,
furnished in painted furniture, were as
spotlessly white as though they had Just
emerged from a Turkish bath. The shrub-
' bery was trimmed to a nicety; bowers
bloomed In symmetrical borders in the
yard.
A woman came out every afternoon
and surveyed her well-groomed property
alone. When her glistening coupe was
brought from the garage she went out in
it alone. I rarely ever saw anybody
enter that house.
Naturally I grew curious and asked my
hostess who our next-door neighbor was.
"Why, that's Mrs. So-and-So," she re
plied. ."Don't you remember, her hus
band eloped with his stenographer and
she divorced him?"
"No," 1 said, "but I have heard that
things like that sometimes happen. Tell
me about it."
"People know very little of the actual
facts," my hostess answered, a shocked
expression on her face. "But Mrs. So-and-So
is a lovely woman, a .fine house
keeper and was apparently devoted to
her husband. Since their divorce she
seems broken-hearted and never goes
anywhere."
"Um," thought I. "Looks like a pretty
clear case of male faithlessness and
female vamplshness."
My interest was aroused, however, to
, such an extent that I couldn't let it go at
that, and determined to watch Mrs. N. D.
Neighbor to see if I could get, at the
bottom of how so attractive a looking
woman had lost out.
And this is what I discovered: Every
morning Mrs. N. D. Neighbor was up
betimes, superintending the shining and
polishing of her house. Rugs were vig
orously shaken, windows and porches
washed and the whole morning devoted
to this Godlike occupation. Then the
blinds were closed and the dust and
sunshine shut out for the rest of the
day.
To prevent any violation of the im
maculate purity of the front porch a rug
, was placed at the foot of the steps, one
at the top and another at the entrance
door. Mrs Neighbor saw to the back, too.
Whenever a tradesman appeared she im
plored him to leave his packages at the
foot of the back steps bo as not to track
the porch! '
It was Just the sort of house - kept
house that no man would be permitted to
smoke In, to throw his papers around in,
to work in or play In, or really live in.
And I decided that friend husband ran
away from that house as much as from
the woman who loved it better than she
did him!
Does a man want a model wife, a para
gon of perfection? Horrors, no; no more
than he deserves one. What he wants is
a "fair to middlin'," common-sense, well
balanced wife half the time and a play
fellow the other half. For no matter
how old and gray and gouty he may get,
a man never outgrows the boy and the
longing to be petted, and Jollied and
made much of.
Be careful, therefore, that you donl
send him out to look for another play
mate or congenial soulmate; that your
matrimonial venture does not flounder
on the ;rack of age in ignoring this eter
nal boyishness in your husband, this
'eternal longing to be "understood,"
friend wife. Play with him and scold
him and love him, and work with him
and make him feel that the hollow of
your shoulder is too safe a harbor from
which to drift.
.A Penny for a Husband.
. A business man who wanted a book
keener stated his need In an advertise
ment. The notice was seen by a young
woman who was out of work and who had
searched for employment day after day
without success. She had Just one cent
left. This she spent for a postal card, on
which she wrote a reply to the advertise
ment and dropped the card in a street
letterbox.
Her application impressed the business
man favorably, and he wrote to her ask
ing her to call at his office. She did bo
and secured the position.
Her modesty and worth, no less than
her capability, so won her employer that
before many months had passed ha of
fered her his heart and hand, and she ac
cepted and became his wife.
"And to think," he said one day dur
ing the honeymoon, "that it all came
from your spending your last cent for a
postal card and mailing it at a street cor
ner!" "Yes," she replied with a smile and a
blush, "I dropped a penny In the slot and
got a husband."
103.2