Hollinger Corp. 
 pH8.5 
 

 By jane CAMPBELL, 
 
 author of 
 Mother Goose's Protest, Story of the Willow Plate, etc. 
 
 ml 
 
 PUBLISHED BY " ' '^ 
 
 WILLIAM J . CAMPBELL, 
 
 740 Sansom Street, 
 

 S'^- 
 
 n^ 
 
 Copyright, 1890. 
 By jane CAMPBELL. 
 
The Nineteentli Century Woman. 
 
 /TIH ! many a song have the poets sung 
 
 \jj Of the days of old when the earth was young, 
 
 And an air of romance and mystery hung 
 
 O'er the new-born world, and a glamor flung 
 
 Over woman, in days primeval. 
 For there's never a virtue that one can name, 
 That's ever possessed by a modern dame, 
 But some one is sure to discover that same 
 Was an every-day thing in the times of old ; 
 And if we are to credit all that we're told 
 Of the state of affairs in that age of gold, 
 Human beings were cast in a different mould 
 From those that breathe in our modern air, 
 For the men were all brave, the women all fair ! 
 That was blissful indeed. But I'm free to declare, 
 As in those two respects we do not now compare 
 
With those perfect beings to whom we are kin, 
 In mundane affairs there has certainly been 
 A most tremendous upheaval. 
 
 But the poets have not spent all their rhymes 
 On the women who lived in the earliest times ; 
 Far from it. They bid us scan History's pages, 
 And admire the women of other ages. 
 And many and many a moral they point. 
 With Hamlet, because '' times are out of joint," 
 And many a tale they deftly adorn. 
 Holding up the modern woman to scorn. 
 And they seem to think it the blackest of crimes 
 Not to do as was done in the ''good old times." 
 
 In justice, although, 
 
 As we very well know, 
 Our grandmothers always did thus and so, 
 And never did that or the other. " Oh, no ! " 
 But, considering all this, I'm sure as things go 
 The Nineteenth Century Woman makes a pretty fair 
 
 show. 
 And if we take matters somewhat in detail. 
 Sure our Nineteenth Century Woman won't fail 
 
5 
 
 To compare very well when weighed in the scale 
 With the much-vaunted woman of earlier days. 
 In truth, one is simply lost in amaze 
 At the wonders achieved in so many ways, 
 And has nothing to give but unlimited praise. 
 
 Let us take, for example, the healing art, 
 
 And see what part, 
 
 Almost from the start. 
 Has been taken by woman in that domain. 
 Now the facts about it are exceedingly plain. 
 So it really seems hardly worth while to say. 
 That in every age down to our own day 
 One mission of Woman has been to allay 
 Pain, sickness and suffering in every way. 
 And her skill in nursing so well known became, 
 That " ministering angel " is quite the pet name 
 By which she is known in the temple of fame. 
 
 In these prosaic times we look rather askance 
 
 At the beautiful tales of the old romance, 
 
 When the lady fair, with her love-Ht glance, 
 
 Sent the brave knight, armed with his sword or lance, 
 
 Away to the wars. But note the advance — 
 
The change — our modern woman has made. 
 
 For the old-time damsel set forth arrayed-- 
 
 And, to do her justice, quite undismayed — 
 
 In a simple gown of spotless white, 
 
 When the siege was over, when fought was the fight. 
 
 To hunt for herself her own true knight ; 
 
 And, despite the fact that he fought for the right, 
 
 She usually found him in sorry plight, 
 
 And certainly rather the worse for the fight ; 
 
 But, guided by Inspiration's strong light. 
 
 Which came to her in an instant's flash. 
 
 For here perhaps was a cruel slash, 
 
 And there an uncommonly ugly gash. 
 
 She bound up his wounds with her silken sash, 
 
 Which, if tales were true. 
 
 Was generally blue ; 
 And it's also recorded this treatment, too. 
 Made the wounded hero as good as new ; 
 And further, as that seemed the right thing to do 
 In these charming old tales, she married him, too. 
 And a favoring breeze then always blew 
 Back again to her home to waft her, 
 And they lived happily ever after. 
 
But the Nineteenth Century Woman knows, 
 
 That, now-a-days, foes 
 
 Give very hard blows. 
 And she does not for even an instant suppose, 
 That adopting such pretty methods as those. 
 That her sweet mediaeval sisters all chose 
 Would be of much use; but, instead, she goes 
 To a modern college and takes a degree — 
 For our Modern Woman's a full-fledged M. D. — 
 And, armed with knowledge, bandages, lint, 
 Surgical instruments, perhaps a stray splint, 
 For a possible broken arm or toe. 
 Sets off to the rescue, and lets no grass grow 
 Under her feet. Sets to work with a will, 
 Binds up bruises and cuts with speed and with skill ; 
 
 Does not for one second hesitate, 
 
 A leg or an arm to amputate, 
 
 And to have her patient recuperate 
 Sends him off to a hospital straight. 
 
 And the Modern Woman in times like these 
 Doesn't trust to those old-time remedies 
 ''Simples" and ''lotions," and "jalaps" and "teas" 
 
For there isn't a medicine one can name 
 
 That this Century Woman doesn' t use that same, 
 
 And lavishly, constantly, to ease our ills, 
 
 Gives us anti-pyrene and quinine pills. 
 
 Castor oil, nux vomica or syrup of squills. 
 
 And infinite pains and trouble she takes, 
 
 Prescribing for ills and curing our aches, 
 
 And, serene and impartial, we see that she can 
 
 Give drugs by the pound on the true Old School plan ; 
 
 Or, if 'tis the New School her interest engrosses. 
 
 Infinitesimal pellets in homoeopathic doses. 
 
 And, willing to share with others her knowledge, 
 
 Becomes a Professor in some first-class college. 
 
 And the Nineteenth Century Woman can cook. 
 Talk of jellies and ices just like a book. 
 
 Can readily m.ake 
 
 Pie, pudding and cake. 
 
 Broil a chop or a steak, 
 
 And bread she can bake, 
 Sweet, light, wholesome and white. 
 So that, like Matthew Arnold, 'tis said she is quite 
 A true ''Apostle of Sweetness and Light." 
 
Most wonderful dishes she has created, 
 
 Many great reforms inaugurated. 
 
 '^ Strawberry Short Cake " I'll merely mention, 
 
 As the Nineteenth Century Woman's invention. 
 
 And add, with laurel she should be crowned, 
 
 For she, in preserving, has a better way found 
 
 Than that sugar-consuming '* pound for pound." 
 
 But it isn't enough that she bakes and brews 
 Every known thing from ice cream to stews ; 
 She also knows the wherefore and why 
 This method or that she must apply. 
 Every item of interest that ever was known 
 About oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, ozone, 
 What will make muscle and what will make bone. 
 She has carefully studied and made her own. 
 And also whatever's been written or shown 
 
 Of the action of gases and vapors. 
 
 None better than she 
 
 Can tell what will be 
 The chemical action of coffee and tea. 
 Of alkalies, nitrogens, sugars and starches. 
 For our Nineteenth Century Woman still marches 
 
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 Steadily on in the very front row 
 Of the army of progress, and promptly she'll go, 
 If there is anything she doesn't know, 
 To a school for cooking, for understand 
 Cooking schools she's established on every hand. 
 Through all the length and breadth of the land. 
 And the cooking-school cake has the fortune made, 
 And the cooking-school pie is the stock in trade 
 Of most of the comic papers. 
 
 But let us own 
 That not in these respects alone 
 Has the Nineteenth Century Woman shown 
 Her great advance as the years have flown ; 
 No, indeed, for she's gone with all her heart 
 Into every department of modern art. 
 And now we find 
 When she's inclined 
 To make beautiful things, she's not confined 
 To the old-time samplers her grandmother wrought 
 Or the sticky wax fruit that her mother thought 
 Such a thing of beauty. Oh ! she has been taught 
 That there's nothing too mean, and nothing too great 
 
1 1 
 
 For her competent fingers to decorate. 
 
 She carves wooden tables, she hammers out brass. 
 
 She paints upon china, on satin and glass, 
 
 On iron and wood, and a wonderful mass 
 
 Of more wonderful things 
 
 Into our homes she ungrudgingly brings. 
 
 And bravely she's put her hand to the plough. 
 
 And the burning momentous question, how 
 
 To make '' The House Beautiful " she has now 
 
 Completely solved, as we all must alloAV. 
 
 She owns stores of home-made bric-a-brac, 
 And many a tile, and many a placque, 
 Some of them blue and some of them black, 
 Warranted never to break or crack, 
 She's painted and hung upon our walls. 
 And curious things she stands in our halls, 
 Most gorgeous china umbrella-stands. 
 Painted and glazed with her own deft hands. 
 And she decorates every saucer and cup. 
 And in ebony cabinets hangs them up. 
 And even our homely kitchen tools 
 She makes succumb to the cheerful rules 
 
Laid down by the pure aesthetic schools. 
 
 And the humble dust-brush is fitly graced 
 
 With a sky-blue ribbon round its slender waist ; 
 
 And its mate, the dust-pan, near it reposes, 
 
 Made brave with a wreath of painted roses, 
 
 And the useful egg-beater makes quite a show 
 
 With its handle tied with a gay red bow. 
 
 And the wooden shovel which clears off our snow 
 
 Is spring-like with buttercups all in a row ; 
 
 And how pleasing to find, when we roll out our dough 
 
 And to make our puff-paste for pies begin, 
 
 A Nile-green ribbon round the rolling-pin. 
 
 For the Nineteenth Century Woman has tried 
 
 To find how plain things can be beautified. 
 
 And the object she ever has had in view 
 
 Is the "Useful"— spelled with a capital " U," 
 
 And also The " Beautiful " and the '^True." 
 
 These words are spelled with capitals too. 
 
 To unite in one harmonious whole. 
 
 For easy then when she'd reached this goal, 
 
 To '' Expand the Heart ! " '' Elevate the Soul ! " 
 
 Thus, for instance, the scuttle which carries our coal, 
 
13 
 
 Which is ''Useful," she tries to make ''Beautiful," too 
 And not only '* Beautiful," but also make " True," 
 So she paints on its side, pure, stately and chilly. 
 With the whitest of paints, a great Calla Lily. 
 
 Of old our patient grandmothers patched 
 Their old-time spreads, and carefully matched 
 Each tiny block in their Irish chains. 
 And their Tea-box quilts with infinite pains ; 
 But the Nineteenth Century Woman disdains 
 On such things to fritter her time away. 
 
 She'd be filled with dismay. 
 Or else with a sense of the deepest guilt. 
 If she ever had made an " album " quilt. 
 For with nothing old-fashioned is she contented. 
 So our sweet crazy patchwork she has invented. 
 
 If we scan o'er 
 
 The ancient lore 
 Written of Woman in the days of yore. 
 
 We'd scarce find more 
 
 Than a meagre score 
 Of those who the palm of authorship bore. 
 
14 
 
 And not e'en she of old 
 
 Of whom we are told 
 That she didn't jump off the Leucadian Rock. 
 Sweet Sappho herself, could more surely unlock 
 The hearts of her hearers with her musical key 
 Than the woman who writes in this century. 
 In our fresh modern air she has spread out her wings, 
 And many and sweet are the songs that she sings. 
 She writes books by dozens, she writes for the press. 
 On every known theme, from religion to dress. 
 She writes books in verse, or in prose at her will. 
 For everything's grist that comes to her mill. 
 Sometimes it's a story which sets hearts aflame. 
 Like an ''Uncle Tom's Cabin" of national fame, 
 She writes Robert Ellsmeres, or, better by far, 
 The '' Ugly Girl Papers " in Harper's Bazaar. 
 
 Now would one suppose 
 
 That fashions in clothes 
 Could ever be set by a story. 
 
 When every one knoY/s 
 
 Fashion papers in rows 
 Stare one in the face, wherever one goes ? 
 
15 
 
 But a "Nineteenth Century Woman bestows 
 A boon great as this, and conclusively shows 
 
 There's no limit to her fame and glory. 
 For since Mrs. Burnett set mothers all wild 
 With the doings of that preternatural child, 
 Among poor Americans and rich English earls, 
 Our poor little boys now wear long straggling curls ; 
 With velvet and ruffles they also are graced, 
 And their thin little legs are completely encased 
 In long leather leggings almost to the waist. 
 And those innocent, suffering, down-trodden boys 
 Have all become little Lord Fauntleroys. 
 
 But it isn't alone in authorship 
 We see the woman of our times dip. 
 And the old-time adage, many a slip 
 There's to be found 'twixt the cup and the lip. 
 Was not made for her, for she grasps at each chance, 
 Is anxious to use every means to advance. 
 
 Discerns at a glance 
 The " Enlargement of Opportunities." 
 And not only discerns, but hastens to seize. 
 So it goes without saying that she makes a hit, 
 
i6 
 
 When in the Editor's Cliair she doth sit, 
 
 For she finds that it 
 
 Is a very good fit 
 For her Nineteenth Century wisdom and wit. 
 
 It is almost needless, too, to say 
 
 That the Nineteenth Century Woman can play 
 On zithers, and harps, and flageolets, 
 Tamborines, banjos, and brass cornets. 
 Flutes, pianos, and violins, 
 A.nd many a musical laurel she wins. 
 And we hear, as the notes in our ears still ring. 
 How a Nineteenth Century Woman can sing. 
 
 Now let us examine here, if you please. 
 
 What are the '^Enlarged Opportunities " 
 
 Showered on Woman in days like these. 
 
 She can go in for literature, drawing, zoology. 
 
 Botany, language, gymnastics, psychology, 
 
 Chemistry, rhetoric, painting, biology, 
 
 Philosophy, history, physics, geology. 
 
 Art needlework, algebra, moral science, mythology, 
 
 Trigonometry, botany, hygiene, sociology, 
 
i; 
 
 *' Narcotics and stimulants," French, etymology, 
 Elocution, mensuration and paleontology, 
 Vocal culture, geography, Greek, physiology. 
 Mental science,type-writing,book-keeping,astronomy, 
 Physical culture and political economy. 
 Civil government, or how to make governments civil, 
 For the Woman of '' now " has no time to " frivol " 
 Her precious time in the commonplace way 
 That a Woman did in her grandmother's day — 
 
 And this "History of Education," 
 
 Which goes on ever without cessation. 
 
 Has made her so wise 
 
 It creates no surprise 
 To find she surpasses, whenever she tries, 
 Pestalozzi and Plato, Herbert Spencer and Locke, 
 Confucius, Rosseau, or that other firm rock 
 Of philosophy, Froebel. For she is a genius 
 Equal to Bacon or even Comenius. 
 
 Now, though these are brain-turning subjects, yet each 
 Our Modern Woman can both learn and teach. 
 For every one is in her easy reach. 
 'Tis true in the rush of these mighty springs 
 
17 
 
 " Narcotics and stimulants," French, etymology, 
 Elocution, mensuration and paleontology, 
 Vocal culture, geography, Greek, physiology, 
 Mental science,type-writiDg,book-keeping,astronomy, 
 Physical culture and political economy. 
 Civil government, or how to make governments civil, 
 For the Woman of *' now " has no time to ^' frivol " 
 Her precious time in the commonplace way 
 That a Woman did in her grandmother's day — 
 
 And this ''History of Education," 
 
 Which goes on ever without cessation, 
 
 Has made her so wise 
 
 It creates no surprise 
 To find she surpasses, whenever she tries, 
 Pestalozzi and Plato, Herbert Spencer and Locke, 
 Confucius, Rosseau, or that other firm rock 
 Of philosophy, Froebel. For she is a genius 
 Equal to Bacon or even Comenius. 
 
 Now, though these are brain-turning subjects, yet each 
 Our Modern Woman can both learn and teach. 
 For every one is in her easy reach. 
 'Tis true in the rush of these mighty springs 
 
LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 FOR SALE AT 
 
 740 SANSOM STREET, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA.