Fanny Fern

“ Somebody there to grieve if he is not true to himself. Somebody there to be sorry if he is troubled or sick. Somebody there, with fingers like sunbeams, gliding and brightening whatever they touch; and all for him. I look at the business men of New York, at nightfall, coming swarming "up town" from their stores and counting-rooms; and when I see them, as I often do, stop and buy one of those tiny bouquets as they go, I smile to myself; for although it is a little attention toward a wife, I know how happy that rose with its two geranium leaves, and its sprig of mignonette will make her. ”

“ And that, after all, is the secret of a grandmother's indulgence. It isn't a weakness, as your puckery, sour people pretend. Grandmother has lived. She knows what life amounts to. She knows it is nothing but broken toys from the cradle to the grave. She knows that happy, chirping, radiant little creature before her, has all this experience to go through; and so, ere it comes, she watches with jealous care that nothing shall defraud her of one sunbeam of childhood. Childhood! She strains her gaze far beyond that, away into misty womanhood. ”

“ When the bolt falls, which sooner or later strikes every man's house, how philosophically lookers-on reason about it. How practically unconscious are they, while gazing at the blood-besprinkled door-post of a neighbor, that the advancing finger of Destiny is already pointed at their own, as they plan for happy years to come the future of husband, wife, child, brother and sister, as if for them there was immunity from dissolution and disruption. No acceleration of pulse, no heart-quiver, when the funeral train passes by, or the sad face looks out from its frame of sable ”

“ There is a gay, bright-tinted bouquet for an actress. Lingering, you look, and muse, and spell out life's alphabet, by help of these sweet flowers; and now you are jostled away by a policeman, dragging a wretched, drunken woman to the station-house.
People talk of Niagara, and tell how impressive is its roar. What is the roar of a dumb thing like that to the roar of a mighty city? There, souls go down, and alas! the shuttle of life flies so swiftly that few stop to heed.
There are persons who can regard oppression and injustice without any acceleration of the pulse. ”

“ It is a shame for such a man to put on his soul's festival-dress for everybody but her who should be his soul's queen. It is a shame for a man to be willing so to degrade the mother and teacher of his children. It is a shame for him, while she sits sewing by his side, never to raise her drooping self-respect, by addressing an intelligent word to her about the book he is reading, or the subject upon which he is thinking, as he sits looking into the fire. ”

“ How delicious in these days of hot-house-childhood it is to find a little one who can relish puss in the corner. To find one who does not at six years of age turn up its little nose at everything but "round dances," and a supper of "pâté de foie gras" and champagne. What a sorrowful sight are those blasé languid little things who are incapable of a new sensation before they are out of short clothes—to whom already there is no childhood left—who have turned their backs on that path of flowers to which they can never return, through long years of satiety and weariness. ”

“ It comes up all over the house, at every step. It meets you in parlor, and chamber, and entry. It points where the coat and hat used to hang; it whispers from the leaves of some chance book you listlessly open, where are his pencil-marks. Even the dish on the table you loved to prepare for him is turned to poison. The sun seems merciless in its brightness; the music and dancing in unrifled homes is almost heartless. What can you do with this spectre grief, that has taken a chair by your fireside, and, change position as you may, insists on keeping you torturing company? ”

“ Imagine your own dear boy, with the bright eyes and the broad, white forehead, whom you tuck so comfortably in his little soft bed at night, with a prayer and a kiss; whom you look at the last thing on retiring; for whom you gladly toil; whom you hedge around with virtuous, wholesome influences from the cradle; who does not yet know even the meaning of the word "evil;" who jumps into your arms as soon as he wakes in the morning, with the sweet certainty of a warm love-clasp; who has the nicest bit, at breakfast, laid on his little plate ”

“ If I thought Toronto rather a "slow" place, the fault may be in my quicksilver temperament, which sent me off by railroad through the backwoods to Detroit, after one day's sojourn in it. Ah! that I liked! Those grand old woods, those primeval trees, towering and stately as "cedars of Lebanon;" those log-huts with the bronzed mother standing in the door-way, and a group of rosy little children about her; the woodman near by, resting on his axe at the sound of the shrieking whistle, all unconscious how pretty a picture he and his were making. ”

“ Bridget will see about that! Her eyes are a pretty blue; and as to her hair, it is at least her own; yes, ma'am; no "rats" will be necessary for her; that will save something.
And so the brogans, and the dark "stuff"-dress, and the thick stockings, and shawl, come to grief; and in two months' time flash is written all over Bridget, from the crown of her showy hat to the tips of her crucified toes, squeezed into narrow, paper-soled, fashionable, high-heeled gaiters. And as to her "superiors," gracious goodness! America is not Ireland, nor England either, I'd have you to know. ”

“ Does it sting more than would a brutal word at her own fireside, whither she was lured by promises of love until death?
If conservatism is shocked to hear a woman speak in public, let conservatism stay away; but let it be consistent, and not forget to frown on its own women, who elbow and push their way in a crowded assembly, and with sharp tongue and hurrying feet "grab"—yes, that's the word—the most eligible seat, or who push into public conveyances already filled to over-flowing, and, with brazen impudence, wonder aloud "if these are gentlemen," as they try to look them out of their seats. ”

“ We entered Philadelphia just at sunset, and rattled through Chestnut Street just as it was looking its brightest and best with its well-stocked shops, its belles and its beaux, and its bran-new Continental, where we longed to stop, had we not given our word to reach New York that night. I liked Philadelphia from the first moment I put my foot there, some years ago.
It always seemed so cosy, home-like,—and comfortable; one might, one thinks, be so domestic and sensible there, while in New York it is next to impossible to be sensible, with the very best intentions. ”

“ You see how no home, without a foundation of thrift, can be anything like a home to this New England girl. You can see how, in her married far-off abode, when reverses come, she is not the woman to fold her hands and sit down and cry about it. You see how she can make bread one minute, and ten to one, write a poem the next; how she can trim a bonnet or row a boat; how she can cut and make her own and her children's dresses, and keep her kitchen in a state of polish, to make the haunter of Intelligence Offices stare with wonder. ”

“ One might smile, were it not so pitiful, to see the impatience with which strong, active men succumb to the necessity of lying a few weeks on a bed of sickness. The petulance which they in vain try to smother, at pills and potions, in place of their favorite dish, or drink, or cigar. The many orders they give, and countermand, in the same breath, to the wife and mother, who calmly accepts all this as part of her woman lot, and who dare not, for the life of her, smile at the fuss this caged lion is making, because his rations are cut off for a few days. ”

“ If there is one sight more offensive to me in New York than another, it is that of a servant in livery. Daily my republican soul is vexed by the different varieties of this public nuisance. Sometimes he appears to me in the sacerdotal garb—a long, petticoat-y suit of solemn black, with stainless stiff white cravat. Then again he crosses my path, bedizzened in blue, with yellow facings, and top-boots. Then again he flames out like a poll-parrot, in green coat, and scarlet waistcoat. Again, his white gloves, and broad hat-band, are the only public advertisements of his servitude. ”

“ The young girl, rejoicing in her prettiness, for the power it gives her to win love and friends. The little beggar children, counting their pennies on some doorstep, to see how much supper they will buy. The small boot-blacks, who stoop less, after all, than many men whose feet they polish, singing as merrily as if they were sure of a fortune on the morrow. The bright glancing lights in the shop windows, touching up bits of scarlet, and yellow, and blue, and making common beads and buttons gleam like treasures untold. ”

“ Of such cold-blooded comfort, in sight of a new-made grave, might well be born "the smart business woman." And, in truth, so it often is. Hands that never toiled before, grow rough with labor; eyes that have been tearless for long, happy years, drop agony over the slow lagging hours; feet that have been tenderly led and cared for, stumble as best they may in the new, rough path of self-denial. ”

“ One gets the heart-ache at every step in New York, if he has eyes or ears for aught save Mammon; and yet how like sun-beams, now and then, across this darkness, comes some noble charity, of whose existence you knew nothing, till some unpretentious sign arrests the eye, in some street never before travelled by you in your daily rounds—some "Asylum," or "Retreat," or "Home," or Hospital, at whose gate Mercy stands with outstretched arms, nor asks the poor unfortunate whom it shelters, its creed or its nationality, but says only—Here is comfort and help. ”

“ Still this female gave her husband light bread to eat; his coffee and tea were always strong and hot; he might have shaved himself by the polish of the parlor table; his buttons were on his shirts, and his stockings always mended; but the man—and he was human—might as well have laid his night-cap beside a sewing-machine. And oh, the weary details of roasting, baking and broiling to which he was compelled to listen and approve between the pauses. The messes, which in any other female hands but hers, would inevitably have stewed over or burnt up or evaporated. ”

“ The stars gradually fade out, and Brattleboro' begins to be astir. First comes the earliest riser of all, poor "crazy Jim," who never seems to weary of wandering to and fro on the earth, and up and down on it. Dim in his confused brain lie tangled memories of childhood's "angels." He stands and gazes, awe-struck and wondering, while his busy, chattering tongue is for the time quite still. Now a farmer from the mountains glides over the snow with his fleet horse and sleigh, with tinkling bells, and reins up, and shares crazy Jim's amazement. ”

“ I blame no woman whose only evening amusement is this, after her children are put to sleep, for protesting, and roundly too, against such unmitigated selfishness; I blame no woman, whose husband, when he does occasionally drum up sufficient vitality to wait upon her out, for requesting that the omnipresent pipe or cigar may for once be dispensed with, as she takes his arm, on that memorable occasion. As I said before, men become so utterly brutified by this disgusting habit, that they lose all sense of politeness and cleanliness. ”

“ To wait athirst for sympathy; to wait for the tardy lifting of the iron hand of toil, which seems crushing out everything but the grinding care for daily bread is hard. I say seems crushing, for often it is only seeming. The seed that seems buried is only for a time hidden; some day when we least expect it, it gives to our gladdened sight verdure, blossom and fruitage. Persistent discontent is the rust of the soul. They have half won the battle who can work while they wait. Having measured one's capacities; having satisfied oneself that at present nothing better can be achieved ”

“ There is an animal peculiar to New-York, who infests every nook and corner of it, to everybody's disgust but his own. He is a boy in years, but a man in vicious knowledge. Every woman who is unfortunate enough to be in his presence is simply a she—nothing more. He may be seen making a charmed circle of expectoration, about the seat he occupies in a ferry-boat, ferry-house, or car, while she stands half fainting with exhaustion, in hearing distance of his coarse, prurient remarks to some other little beast like himself. ”

“ They never consider has she good health? Will she make a healthy Mother? nor the good sense to turn resolutely away, and say, it would be cruelty in me to take her feeble prettiness from that warmly lined nest, to a home in the performance of whose duties she would inevitably break down. Nor do they say, when they have made the irretrievable mistake of marrying her, and find this weary, discouraged little woman crying over it, "Poor child, I ought to have foreseen all this, but as I didn't, I must love and comfort you all the more." ”

“ And you think many other things as you say Good-morning to her as kindly as you know how; and you turn over this whole "woman-question" as you run the risk of being knocked down and run over in the crowded thoroughfare through which you pass; and the jostle, and hurry, and rush about you, seem to make it more hopeless as each eager face passes you, intent on its own plans, busy with its own hopes and fears—staggering perhaps under a load either of the soul or body, or both, as heavy as the poor shop-girl's, and you gasp as if the air about had suddenly become too thick to breathe. ”

“ Children have their likes and dislikes, and often much more rationally grounded than those of grown people, though they may not be able to syllable them. I never shall forget a snuffy old lady whom I used to be obliged, when a child, to kiss. I am not at all sure that my unconquerable aversion to every form of tobacco does not date from these repulsive and compulsory kisses. With what a lingering horror I approached her, and with what a shiver of disgust I retreated to scrub my lips with my pinafore, and shake my locks, lest peradventure a particle of snuff had lodged there. ”

“ Their lot is often at best a hard one;—the best wages being a very inadequate equivalent for the great gulf which, in many cases, separates the servant from her employer as effectually, as if her woman's nature had no need of human love and human sympathy; as if she did not often bear her secret burden of sorrow with a heroism, which should cause a blush on the cheek of her who sits with folded hands in the parlor, all neglectful of woman's mission to her dependent sister. They who have listened vainly for kind words know how much they may lighten toil. ”

“ I defy her to listen to the brook's ripple, the whispered leaf-music, or to look at the soft clouds, the quiet stars, the blossoming flowers, the little pairing birds as they build their nests—and above all, upon a mother with her babe's arms about her neck—without turning soul-sick away. She is not a woman if she can do otherwise. She is not a woman if she can be satisfied with clasping her own arms over a waist which belongs to nobody but herself. I declare her to be a machine—a stick—and carved in straight instead of undulating lines ”