Wichita Eagle

HAS NOT AN EYE FOR DIRT.

Why Some Housekeepers Leave Dust in the Corners and Spots on the Windows.

There is a general impression that ridding a house of dirt must be a simple matter. Often it is said of a slatternly woman, whose untidy personal appearance is merely an index to the condition of every part of her establishment? "I should think that even if she is not a good manager she might at least keep the house clean."

Now that is just where many sensible people make a mistake. The hardest thing for the negligent housekeeper to do is to keep her house clean. And for this there is a very sufficient reason. Eight times out of ten she does not know it is dirty-or at least she does not notice it. If her attention is called to the fact that the paint is grimy, the window glass is smeared, the door knobs sticky, and that dust reigns everywhere, she may possibly perceive the state of affairs, but it does not strike the horror to her soul that it would to a more careful housekeeper. If it could produce this impression, it would not have existed so long. The woman simply has no eye for dirt.

This doubtless sounds at first like an absurd statement, but it contains an element of sound truth, and ought to convey a moral.

In the beginning the owner of the aforesaid untidy abode may have had a superficial neatness that was the result of circumstances. She never had the true root of the matter in her. Her habits of tidiness were like the seed sown by the wayside, that beneath the rays of the sun presently withered away; or, perhaps, more like that which fell among the thorns, and when the cares of children and the worries of domestic contretemps were brought into her life, the good seed was choked and became unfruitful.

We talk often nowadays of the lack of thoroughness in all departments of education, and bemoan ourselves over the tendency to general smattering that we say is emblematic of the age in which we live, when everything must be done in a hurry if we would not be left behind in the race. All this we see and discuss, because these things meet the eye and are questions of public interest. Could not housekeepers, if they would, tell a similar tale concerning domestic matters that are spared comment because they are out of sight? Are not many houses, inside as well as externally, arranged, to quote the phrase by which a story writer recently described a modern cottage, with a "Queen Anne front and a Mary Anne back?" Do not heavy draperies conceal dust, stained glass windows dim the light that might reveal neglected corners, and the aesthetic glories of the drawing room cast into the shade the untidy condition of the kitchen pantry?

May not the house mother, to whom long years of effort have perhaps made neatness instinctive, save herself trouble, and her children and children-in-law that may some day be, unhappiness, by beginning at the very outset to teach her daughters, ay, and her sons, too, that it is essential that they should have an eye for dirt?

The tired woman sighs as she gathers together the articles of clothing and the newspapers her husband has tossed down and left for some one else to pick up. "Men are naturally untidy," she says, with a patient smile that holds no hint of blame. In the same spirit she goes at stated intervals to the closets and bureau drawers of her boys and girls, and restores them from chaos to something like order. "Children will be careless," she tells you, apologetically.

Would it not be better for her and them if more stress were laid upon the old maxim Solomon ought to have uttered, though he didn't, "Cleanliness is next to godliness?" Would she not do a wise thing if she taught her little men and women that to be dirty is as much a sin as it is to lose one's temper, to utter angry words, or to strike blows in wrath, and that it is the duty of every one to fight against such a fault, and, if possible, conquer it before it conquers them? Could she not explain all that dust and dirt mean as breeders and carriers of disease germs, as injurious to the skin, the eyes, the lungs? And finally, could she not impress it upon them that the laziness which will lead the girl in sweeping to brush the dust under the sofa, and the boy in dressing to leave his boots and soiled clothes in the middle of the floor, is a manifestation of that self indulgence and love of ease which, if not curbed, will, in time, vitiate even the finest characters?

The teaching tidiness to boys does not require much attention to details. A man's life has so little to do with the minutiae of housekeeping that it ought to be a comparatively easy matter for him to learn to keep his especial corner of the house neat, and to avoid disordering the general family rooms.

But with a girl the case is different. She must comprehend the importance of little things; she must learn the evil consequences that may result from a neglected refrigerator; she must appreciate the extra labor that is involved when cooking utensils are put away half washed or half dried; she must know the injurious effects upon carpets and curtains of allowing dust to become ground into them, the saving it is to wash clothes before they are too dirty, the absolute necessity of keeping sinks and drain pipes perfectly clean. Drilling in all these items should be part of a girl's education, just as much as training in mathematics or languages. If she is as thoroughly versed in these things as she should be, so that the knowledge and its practice become a part of herself, there is little fear that, even in a house of her own, free from all supervision, her surroundings will ever bear the look of those of the woman who has no eye for dirt.-Harper's Bazar.