Author unknown
Please be sure to read the second part, "The Other Side," which has to do with this photo.
The One Side
It's such a waste of time to cook,
Please be sure to read the second part, "The Other Side," which has to do with this photo.
The One Side
It's such a waste of time to cook,
I'm just a walking cookery book.
I make and bake the morning through,
The favorite pies and pudding too.
And then in half an hour or less,
My toil has gone to nothingness.
It's a waste of time to dust the stairs,
To clean the brass, and polish chairs,
To sweep, and pick up bits of fluff,
For nothing's ever clean enough.
Five minutes after I am done,
Someone is sure to romp and run,
Kick out the stair-rods, flick the mats,
Slam the doors and scare the cats.
Some sticky hand is sure to press
The brasses from their sprightliness.
I tidy up and do the dusting,
But all the while, my wings are rusting.
Then washing day, it seems to me,
Is just a waste of energy.
What use to stand before a tub,
And soak and rinse, and blue and rub?
Next week the self-same garment's stain
Will come into my hands again.
It's such a waste of time to mend,
One has no sooner reached the end
Of last week's pile, then---need you ask it?
I make and bake the morning through,
The favorite pies and pudding too.
And then in half an hour or less,
My toil has gone to nothingness.
It's a waste of time to dust the stairs,
To clean the brass, and polish chairs,
To sweep, and pick up bits of fluff,
For nothing's ever clean enough.
Five minutes after I am done,
Someone is sure to romp and run,
Kick out the stair-rods, flick the mats,
Slam the doors and scare the cats.
Some sticky hand is sure to press
The brasses from their sprightliness.
I tidy up and do the dusting,
But all the while, my wings are rusting.
Then washing day, it seems to me,
Is just a waste of energy.
What use to stand before a tub,
And soak and rinse, and blue and rub?
Next week the self-same garment's stain
Will come into my hands again.
It's such a waste of time to mend,
One has no sooner reached the end
Of last week's pile, then---need you ask it?
This week's fills up the mending basket.
The stockings which were hale and hearty
Return from each picnicking party,
Weak and worn and wanly show
Great gaping holes in heel and toe,
While the buttons have a cantankerous way
Of disappearing every day.
Sponging off the spots and ironing creases,
Between it all, I'm worn to pieces.
Woman, from cradle to grave
Is nothing but a galley slave.
The stockings which were hale and hearty
Return from each picnicking party,
Weak and worn and wanly show
Great gaping holes in heel and toe,
While the buttons have a cantankerous way
Of disappearing every day.
Sponging off the spots and ironing creases,
Between it all, I'm worn to pieces.
Woman, from cradle to grave
Is nothing but a galley slave.
The Other Side
I've done an angel's work today!
Yes, such an honor came my way.
Real angel's work! And lest you doubt it,
I'm going to tell you all about it.
Well, first, I cooked. It was so nice
To plan the pies, stewed fruit, and rice.
God sent His angel once to make
Cakes for a poor wayfarer's sake.
But just today He honored me,
And sent the task my way, you see.
Then while I tidied up the place,
Gave every knob a radiant face,
Back of my mind this thought would lurk,
That I was still at angel's work.
Putting away coats and dresses,
And moving small unsightlinesses.
For, oh! 'tis such a lovesome thing,
Just straightening out and freshening.
And after that I washed a few
Small woolly garments, old, not new,
Things I had rubbed and rinsed before,
Quite forty times or even more.
And as I hung them on the line,
I thought what God-like work was mine!
To cleanse---ah, me!---to wash out stains,
Till not a single speck remains.
So later in the day 'twas sweet
To sit and rest my tired feet,
While mending the clothes, and planning too,
How to make old things into new.
For surely 'tis an angel's way
To put things right from day to day,
To find thin places, and repair
The glad rags and the sturdy wear.
Since wear and tear must surely be
On this side of Eternity,
I'm feeling very proud to say,
"I've done an angel's work today!"