THE SOCIAL TREADMILL-

Press, Volume LVII, Issue 10738, 18 August 1900, Page 6

THE SOCIAL TREADMILL-

Many a working woman, as she watches j the dainty lady, card-case in hand, pass by her cottage, envies the pleasant leisure of the other's life. She, poor soul, l may hare been scrubbing, washing, cooking, and mending, with a troop of noisy children about her feet, and the comfortless expectation of a tired and cross husband. She has had no time to do aught but the next thing that lies before her weary fingers. Her life is a grey vista of work and worry, with no glint of sunshine. She little dreams, and would laugh scornfully, if told that the woman she envies is almost as hard-worked, with far less result for her toil, as she is herself. No tiny patched garments, no wholesome dishes, no spotless floors come of the former's Sisyphus-like . labour. She merely has the -pleasure of marking off from her visiting list half a dozen or so of namewit- a sigh of thankfulness. If she is what she calls in her heart of hearts '•lucky," and •the person she calls on "undfortu_ite"--if, in shcirt, she finds some of her friend}- out— she may make a record for the afternoon. The system of spending so much of a lifetime in paying calls is a most riernioious one, Tliere are women who, with a curious mixture of pride and self-pity, number their acquaintances by hundreds, they have •tender consciences, the bui*d<. : unpaid calls is ever heavy on their Every fine afternoon such set out on their social pilgrimages, card-case in hand instead of the scallop-shell in theirJiats. An enthralling hook, dainty needlework, a brae—g bicycle rid-—all are put aside as temptations of the evil one, and duty—a "fin de si_ole" duty—points the way to the social martyrs. Reading may improve the mind, sewing soothe the nerves, a ride bring health and vigour, but there are at least eight people whose particular day at home it is, and the sun shines -and tbe sweet breeze wh—ipers of country lanes and fields unheeded.

It __s so little result, this calling. If the visitor arrive, by accident or design, on a "day at home," she probably says no more to her 'hostess than ft "How d'ye do?" and a "Good-bye," for, during the .eg-lation fifteen minutes, curtailed by tlie sum_rtest set to even less, the room may be crowded with other acqui—titances. If she does not go on an "at home" day, or the lady has none, the visitor is likely to find her out on her own pilgrimages. It is ridiculously like a kitten chasing its own tail and about as futile, though, not nearly so humorous. Cases have been known where solemn annual calls are made, and the two people have never met. They may not know each other by sight, and yet they go on for yeaexchanging calls. Life is so full nowadays that such waste of time is „*im__l. The burden of unpaid calls is such that a deep -_u__ulne_s is sometimes felt when a hostess is _ot at home. "What did Mrs. J. say, Mary?" asked a mistress on hearing a visitor called when she was out. "She just said Thar__ goodness! mum!' a_>s\*ered the maid. Many are not so outspoken, but think it all t£_ -same, not because they do not want to see the particular lady, b_t) because they can do a little more on the social treadmill. It is maittly in the larger towns where this system is in full swing. In the co_itry, where mapy calls in one day are a blessed impossibility, guests come prepared to stay, and people geitj to knov one another. But, with five hundred acquaintances on a visiting list, there is no time to make friends, and we are merely on the outskirts of the lives of the people we visit. When a woman becomes despera£e over her overflowing card-tray, she wipes the slate clean by giving a large "at home." Some of these are delightful functions, others ate the reverse. The rooms are so crowded that the guests might be clad in sackcloth and ashes if only their heads and shoulders

were correct. Seats are at a premium, —id music either drowns or is drowned by the chatter of many tongues. All sorts of dainty indigestibles are served at a time when doctor, say we should not eat. Ztow and then, through a gorgeous vista of varied headgear, a glimpse of the anxious-eyed hostess is gained. An immense) amount of trouble, and a great expense has \ been gone to, with what result? We are\ too busy making acquaintanceships nowadaijs to form friendships. Opportunities for culture are _—ssed and talent- neglected in this ->h-i—s.» after shadows. The home-life, too, takes a secondary place, and a woman, weary v*ith social duties is not likely to be a patient,

wise mother, and a cheery companion. There is another phase to the question, for some who cannot afford it are foolish enough to follow the lead of their wealthier and more

lei-ircl .-irpiaintar.ee. Much is passed by in t.hi** nice for social status, and the whole system is hopelessly wrong. Wo need a ftjnvih IVier the Hermit to arise and preach A cm*-"t<l<'. urging women to live simpler ml " I,,rv restful lives, not making a toil 0 f ~!e.istm> nor missing the delights of .rieiahhip* in many acquaintanceships-. young says : — ••Poor in the friendless master of a world, world in purchase for a friend is gain."