The Tables Turned; or, Nupkins Awakened. A Socialist Interlude

Sandy barely nineteen, and Owen not quite twenty-two, she felt more tantalizing discomfort in their friendship than satisfaction. Owen was a dear boy, queer, of course, but fine in every way,

rfect!" thought Mrs. Salisb

was just the sweet, big, simple sort to be trapped by some little empty-headed girl, some little marplot clever enough to pretend an interest in the prison problem, or the free-milk problem, or some other industrial problem in which Owen had seen fit to interest himself. And her lovely, dignifie

s, frankly, despotically, delightfully. And perhaps it was wiser, after all, not to give the child a hint, for it was evident that the shy, gen

genial father, and his mother, the daughter of a tanner. He lived alone, with his widowed mother, in a pleasant, old-fashioned house, set in park-like grounds that were the pride of River Falls. His mother often asked waitresses' unions and fresh-air homes to make use of these gr

od perfectly what she was thinking of him; he understood his own energetic, busy mother; and he

him as she liked anyone else, for his own value, and he sometimes dreamed shyly of her pleasure in suddenly real

thoughtful stare of her demure eyes, across the dinner table, the help she accepted so casually, climbing into his big car-were all evidences that she was as unconscious of his presence as Stan was. But in reality the future for herself of which Sandy confidently dreamed was one in which, in all innocent complacency, she took her place beside Owen as his wife. Clumsy, wild-haired, bashful he mi

a real and absorbing affection. Sandy read "Love in a Valley" and the "Sonnets from the Portuguese" in these days, and

be found browsing about the region where Sandy played marches twice a week for sewing classes in a neighborhood house. T

stigated the new institution and its claims. Sandy wedged her slender little person in between the two men. Mrs. Salisbury sat near by, reading what was handed to her. The older woman's attitude was one of dispassionate unbelief; she smiled a benign indulgence upon these newfangled

with her broom and feather duster. In between these two pictures were pages and pages of information, dozens of pictures. There were delightful long perspectives of model kitchens, of vegetable gardens, orchards, and dairies. There were pictures of girls making jam, and sterilizing

ooking girls

id, bashfully eager, "just the kind that go in for trai

"'First year,'" she read aloud. "'Care of kitchen, pantry, and utensils-fire-making-disposal of refuse-table-setting-s

essence of a thousand Mondays! No one co

id, deeply interested. "That's not all of the fi

do the last

ry adjusted

work for one maid. Arrangement of work for two maids. Menus, with reference to expense, with reference to nourishment, with reference to attractiveness. Chart of sui

beyond that," Owen said. M

hes. Translation of menus. Management of laundries, hotels and institutions. Work of a chef. Work of subordi

beat it!"

isbury conceded. Her husband a

to pay for one o

ns upon which, and only upon which, contracts are based.'" She glanced down the long list of items. "'A comfortably furnished room,'" she read at random, "'weekly half holiday-access to nearest public library or family library-opportunity for hot bath at least twice weekly-two hours if p

with another maid for the unfinished t

didn't have privileges enough now!" she said. "It's the same

ket if required, do ordinary family washing and ironing, will clean bathroom daily, and will clean and sweep every other room in the ho

culated Mrs

o does it on other days!"

s ridiculous, Kane?" h

see, otherwise the girl has a string tied on her all the time. People in our

that's one of the things that have upset the whole system for s

alisbury interrupted sweetly but firmly. Alexandra, h

en,'" she read, "nor to sleep in the room with them. She will

'T say th

l an attitude as possible toward the maid. Any intimacy, or exchange of confidences, is especial

es anyone suppose for an instant t

e," her husband said. "Plenty of women do beco

!" Alexandra said, kissing the top of her

d of flattering her and spoiling her beyond all reason. I take my maid's receipt for salary in advance; I show her the bathroom and the libra

in to help during the haying season, and to put up the preserves, pr

fice work, don't you know? Until it attracts the nicer class of women, don't you know? Mother says that many a good man's fear of old age would be lightened, do

days of black servants, and plenty of them!" she sighed. For though Mrs. Salisbury had been born some years after the days of ple

, finding a particular page t

er, no other help,'" she read

her father said, pl

dollars and a half monthly for each other member of the family. That would

o was always anxious to avoid details; Sandy, all youthful enthusiasm and ignorance, and Owen Sargent, quoting his insufferable mother? For some moments she had been fighting an impulse to s

me sublime faith with which she had told her husband, in poorer days, years ago, that, if they could but afford her, she knew they could get a "fine girl" for three dollars a week. The fact

Kane Salisbury slowly. "Howeve

" said that l

d Alexandra eagerly. "And didn't

ther agreed unwillingly. "But that comes

ate is required to manage on a budget, it is computed that she saves the

s of the family here created a diversion by reminding their sister's guest, with animation, that he had half-asked them to go out for a short ride in his car.

her for her honest opinion of the American School of Domestic Science. "I don't truly think it's at all practical, dear," said Mrs. Salisbury regretfully. "But we might watch i

, drifting upstairs, made her feel suddenly sick. Her first thought was that she COULD not have Sandy's two friends to luncheon, a

was a litter of milk bottles, saucepans, bread and crumbs and bread knife encroaching upon a basket of spilled berries, egg shells and melting bacon. The blue sides of the coffee-pot were stained where the l

sbury cheerfully, when his wif

that the cream is sour because the man leaves it at half-past four, right there

move on," said Stanford frankly. "She's probably

ecause the bright squares of the linoleum, and the brassy faucets, and the g

ick odor of boiling clothes showed that Marthe was ready for her cousin Nancy, the laundress, who came once a week. A saucepan deeply gummed with cerea

anxious eyes after what seem

room walls, settled and was still. She felt the soft substance of a sofa pillow

his kind, concerned face just above her own. Mrs. Sa

pped, pitiful, with tears still on her round cheeks,

aid weakly. She sighed, tried too quickly

harp and stinging, and directed not to talk. While her husband and daughter wer

valid smilingly. "I have been doing a little too much, that'

ot smile; there was no smi

s friends, very sober, but composed. "Mother may ha

die of lonesomeness, wondering what you and the children are doing! Couldn't I just lie here? Mart

lisbury, very much enjoying an hour of quiet, at his w

the strong arm that held her, and laughed comfortably. "I refuse

ve got a ne

u've not gotten one of those college cooks, have you, Kane?" she demanded. "Oh, Kan

n a trained

ld see the pleasure and interest in her eyes. She sank back in

e Sandy came. He looked at his wife's frail little figure, the ruffled frills that showed under her loose wrapper, at throat

're in for a good long course of s