Chapter XIV: A Mother's Work

"THINGS are ever so much better than they used to be. Why, it feels like a different house," Janet Humphrey said to Mrs. Simmons, on the afternoon of the same Saturday when old Isaac Meads found his treasure to have vanished. The Humphreys had just been enjoying a good hot dinner, with "father" of course to share it, and Mrs. Simmons had dropped in afterwards, to find Janet, tidy and smiling, with the baby in her arms.

"I'm sure I'm glad to hear it," said Betsy Simmons; "and I hope it'll go on."

"I hope so too," said Janet. "I shouldn't like to go back and live all in a mess again. You haven't been near me for a great while, Mrs. Simmons."

"Well, no; it does seem a good bit," said Mrs. Simmons. "But I haven't had time to spare. Fact is, whenever I can I just go across, and sit with Miss Daisy for an hour, and let Mrs. Davis get out for a little fresh air. She ain't a strong woman, and the nursing's been a long pull upon her. And I'm sure nobody knows how much longer it mayn't go on. How's your husband to-day, Mrs. Humphrey?"

"He's quite well," Janet said; "and he's doing a lot of carpentering. It's wonderful how Jem has took to carpentering lately. He always was a good hand at it, but he used to say it wasn't worth while, and I couldn't get him to do anything. And now he's talking of making all sorts of things. Just look here, he's put up these shelves for me in the corner, so as I might have more room on the dresser. And he's just now making a book-case, and we mean to get it full of books too, in time. I don't see why we shouldn't. And Tommy broke the leg of a chair lately, and Jem got up early next morning and mended it. Why, if I'd asked him a while back—"

"It isn't so very astonishing," said Mrs. Simmons. "Stands to reason, a man don't care to waste his time in ornamenting a pig-stye."

"Oh, Mrs. Simmons, it wasn't a pig-stye," said Janet, rather hurt.

"Well no, my dear, it wasn't," said Mrs. Simmons. "Folks don't spend their whole lives in scouring and scrubbing of a pig-stye, and that's what you did, pretty nearly. But for all your scouring and scrubbing, you didn't get the place clean, Mrs. Humphrey."

"No, I didn't," assented Janet meekly. "I suppose it was because I hadn't regular times for regular work, and somehow I never seemed to finish anything off."

"Just that exactly," said Mrs. Simmons. "Well, and how are the children? I hope Janey's getting to be a help to you."

"Oh, she's only a child yet," said Janet.

"She isn't too much of a child to be trained into womanly ways," said Mrs. Simmons. "Now, Mrs. Humphrey, don't you give in to being one of them selfish mothers, as are always slaving for a lot of idle children, and never making the children do a hand's turn for themselves."

"Selfish!" Janet repeated in astonishment.

"Selfish—yes. Of course it's selfish," said Mrs. Simmons; "and lazy into the bargain. Of course it's a deal less trouble to do a thing yourself, than to teach Janey how to do it, more particularly if Janey gets a troublesome fit and won't try. But it isn't a question of just now only; it's a question of by-and-by as well. You've got to prepare Janey for being a woman; and one of the first lessons you ought to teach her is how to work. Half the wives and mothers of the present day are pretty nearly useless, because they've never learnt how to work."

"I shouldn't wonder," said Janet.

"Shouldn't wonder! Why, can't you see it for yourself? Children are left to grow up anyhow, and to scramble into any sorts of ways and habits, and then people expect 'em somehow suddenly to change into sensible hard-working useful women, with no trouble ever taken to make them so. O yes, they go to school, of course. But school can't do what I mean. School don't teach them to be useful and thoughtful and tidy in their own homes. School don't teach them scrubbing and washing, and dusting and cooking. Only a mother can teach them all that, or somebody in a mother's place. And mind you, it won't come by nature. Bees gather honey by nature, but girls don't scour and darn by nature."

"Well, I'm sure I never thought about teaching Janey such things," said Janet. "I thought it would all come by-and-by. And she hasn't got much time yet, what with schooling and all. She don't mind nursing the baby for me, when she's in."

"I should hope she didn't," said Mrs. Simmons. "Mind helping her mother! A pretty pass things are coming to! You're a deal too fond of thinking what your children 'mind,' Mrs. Humphrey. What is good for them is more to the point. Teach them to do their duty in God's sight, never stopping to think about their own fancies, and let them see you doing the same, and there's some hope they'll keep straight."

"I'm not what you may call a religious talker," said Janet.

"So much the better," answered Mrs. Simmons. "What folks call a 'religious talker' is very often a sham sort of specimen. It's more important to ask if you're a religious doer, Mrs. Humphrey."

"I've been trying to do better lately," said Janet.

"Yes, I know you have. It's good, so far," said Mrs. Simmons. "And yet that isn't all. Cleanliness and order of themselves aren't religion, though they ought and must go alongside of religion. If you're truly serving God from your heart, and if you sweep your room and cook your dinner the very best you possibly can, just because you want to please God, doing it with thoughts in your heart of trying to honour Him, why then your sweeping and cooking are a part of your religion, sure enough. But not else."

"I don't know as I've given much thought that way," said Janet shamefacedly.

"I'd begin," said Mrs. Simmons gravely. "I wouldn't put off, Mrs. Humphrey. And mind, you've got to train those children of yours for Heaven. That's the work that lies ready to your hand. It isn't only a question of training them to be useful men and women by-and-by. It's a question of training them for Heaven."

"There don't seem much time," began Janet.

"There's time enough for eating and sleeping, and dressing and seeing friends," said Mrs. Simmons. "Time enough, I suppose, for everything except that. And yet that's the one thing above all that calls most for attention."

"They go to Sunday-school," said Janet.

"That's something, but it isn't enough," said Mrs. Simmons. "It is mother's teaching they want, Mrs. Humphrey. It's the teaching that will help their little feet day after day to follow in the steps of the Lord Jesus—teaching that'll make them want to serve Him, and fight against naughty ways. That's what they want. You don't think an hour or two once a week can do everything. No, no—it's home teaching as well as Sunday-school that's needed. God has given them into your hands, for training."

Janet said, "But,—" and paused.

"Yes, there's a 'but,'" said Mrs. Simmons, lowering her full hearty tones, and looking gravely at Janet. "There's a 'but,' Mrs. Humphrey. I don't quite see, for my part, how you're to manage to bring your children to the Feet of the Lord Jesus, if you haven't ever come to Him yourself, and asked Him for healing. There were mothers that brought their little ones to Him to be blessed, and He sent none of them away. But I've marked often, in my mind, how those mothers brought the children themselves. They didn't just send them by somebody else."