the hundred other things
the husband never dreams of, and which tax a woman's nerves and
strength as much, and often more, than his occupation taxes him. But
not a word of appreciation, not a look of sympathy and encouragement
from him, who never tired to sing her praises before they were married,
who vowed that never a harsh word should remotely break on her ear,
never a trouble should mar her happiness. On the contrary, he has no
end of faults to find, and she is doomed to listen to the same old
harangue on economy and saving. She has been saving and stinting until
she can save and stint no more. She has patched and mended and turned
and altered until she could patch and mend and alter no more, and still
the same complaints; the table costs too much, the dry goods store
bills are too long, the seamstress comes into the house too often, the
physician is consulted too much, and of such as these many more. Not a
word does he say about the expensive cigars he smokes, the wines he
drinks; about his frequent visits to the sample-room, and about the
liberality with which he treats his friends there; about the sumptuous
dinners he takes at noon in the down-town restaurant, while wife and
children content themselves at home with a frugal lunch; about the
money he loses at the card table, or in his bets on the games and races
and politics. And of the children he takes but little notice. He has
not seen them all day long, and he is too tired to be bothered with
them in the evening. He must have his rest and quiet. The mother
worried with them all day long, she may worry with them in the evening,
too. It is enough for him to supply her with the means wherewith to
care for their wants, further obligations he has none; these are a
mother's duties, but not a father's.

They tell a story of a learned preacher who had isolated himself from
his children on account of his dislike to their noise. One day, while
taking a walk, he was attracted by the beauty and wonderful
intelligence of a little boy. Inquiring of the nurse whose child it
was, she answered, much astonished: "Your own, reverend sir, your own."
Judging from the attention that some fathers bestow on their children,
I am inclined to believe that this learned preacher has many an
imitator among his sex, for whom not even the inexcusable excuse of
absorption in studies can be set up. I have read of a business man,
who one day thanked God that a commercial crisis ha