Class PS 2. £43 
 Rnnlr H3 G Q 
 GepigM 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
CO 
 EDUCATION 
 
 by 
 jhosephine 
 
 Pollard 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 by 
 
 J/[/ r alter J^atterlee 
 
 - J LI N 5 '883' 
 
 ERNEST F. BIRMINGHAM & CO. 
 140 Nassau Stree'i 
 
 aF.W YORK 
 
 
 

 Copyrighted 1883 
 Emcmt F. Birmingham & Co. 
 
REPRINTED 
 
 The American Queen 
 
 March 31ST 
 
 April 7TH 
 
 April 14TH 
 
 1883 
 
THE CHAPTERS 
 
 I.— Helpmate 
 
 II. _Slave 
 
 III.— Toy 
 
 IV.— Equal 
 
Helpmate 
 
THE first gentleman in 
 
 the land 
 Took the first lady by 
 the hand, 
 And led her out through Eden's gate, 
 Both were alike disconsolate. 
 The woman said— she was no shirk — 
 1 Tis time for us to go to work!" 
 ( Ay, madam, it is even so!" 
 The man replied; "but I can hoe, 
 And rake, and lead a life of toil, 
 And you your white hands need not soil." 
 
Said mother Eve, A That will not do! 
 For I would spend my days near you, 
 And be a helpmate, if I can ; 
 So pray adopt some wiser plan." 
 
 Then Adam yielded to her wish, 
 And taught her how to catch the fish, 
 To rake and hoe, to delve and dig, 
 For he was no pedantic prig, 
 And felt supremely satisfied 
 To have her working by his side. 
 He did not boast superior knowledge 
 Because he'd longer been at college* 
 Nor twit her with inferior skill, 
 Nor nag and worry her, until 
 Her courage sank, and she'd no heart 
 To faithfully perform her part. 
 No, Her ambition he inspired, 
 
And let her work as she desired ; 
 
 And if there was more generous yield 
 
 Within her portion of the field, 
 
 He did not frown — an envious Adam — 
 
 But sai ( d, "It does you credit, madam!" 
 
 By healthful exercise prepared, 
 
 Each day in Adam's toil she shared, 
 
 And on a level with him stood 
 
 In all that was accounted good, 
 
 And in whatever troubles came 
 
 Both, I imagine, took the blame. 
 
 His education bore rich fruits ; 
 
 Together they extracted roots, 
 
 And studied fractions, mental and moral 
 
 Philosophy, without a quarrel; 
 
 And made their own vocabulary, 
 
 The nucleus of our Dix-tionary. 
 
 Adam was pleased to have Eve make 
 
A corner in mince pie, or cake ; 
 
 And her stout nerves received no shock 
 
 At seeing Adam's watered stock. 
 
 Since then co-education's plan 
 Was useful to primeval man, 
 The sons of Adam can't do better, 
 Than in the spirit and the letter, 
 Continue the association 
 Without sophistical evasion, 
 
 In all relationships of life, 
 
 As mother, sister, widow, wife. 
 
 She was, forsooth, exalted high 
 
 From Moses down to Malachi. 
 
 Her wit was keen, her judgment clear, 
 
 And no one talked of woman's sphere, 
 
 Or thought it needful to complain 
 
Her heart was larger than her brain. 
 The pretty maids of Israel 
 Went out for water to the well, 
 And ground the meal and made the bread, 
 And saw their household amply fed ; 
 And yet, according to the books 
 Of Holy Writ, not only cooks 
 Were they, for it is not denied 
 '■ Young men and maidens prophesied." 
 
 When woman exercised her right 
 To do what seemed good in her sight, 
 She stood her ground in every test, 
 And seldom came off second best. 
 Who shall deny such praise as this 
 To Esther or Semiramis, 
 Or say the Saragussan maid 
 
Herself unwomanly displayed? 
 Genius can never be unsexed ! — 
 
 In Genesis you'll find my text;— ■ 
 And men and women in those days 
 Were equal, so the Good Book says; 
 United lived, and when they died 
 Were buried always side by side. 
 
Slave 
 
fO QUICK to learn was woman- 
 kind, 
 With such a bright electric mind, 
 Her zeal and inspiration ran 
 Beyond the sphere prescribed by man, 
 While he with gloomy visage sat 
 Like any puzzled autocrat, 
 Involved in mystery and doubt, 
 She had the problem all worked out. 
 Her intuition was, indeed, 
 Another sense to supersede 
 The powers her other half possessed, 
 For what she didn't know she guessed. 
 
Ah, never since the world began 
 Was there a creature — known as man- 
 Who didn't by some foolish act 
 Display his want of sense and tact, 
 And to increase to-day's supplies 
 Mortgage his lot in Paradise ! 
 Some weed that grew on man's estate 
 He inconsiderately ate; 
 The milk-of-human-kindness, all 
 Life's graciousness was turned to gall. 
 
 The tyrant man was then evoked, 
 Who found himself too closely yoked 
 With one whose loftiness of soul 
 Made her disposed to take control. 
 Then the distinction of the sex 
 Arose humanity to vex, . 
 And circled with despotic sway 
 
Around the little word "obey." 
 His sex divine assurance gave 
 He was the master, she the slave ; 
 And, as they were in temper matched. 
 Like dogs and cats they fought and scratched, 
 And when the battle waxed too hot, 
 ; Quarter !" she cried; 'twas all she got. 
 She wore a veil with modest grace, 
 To hide her bruised and battered face, 
 And not her beauty to conceal, 
 Or just because it was genteel. 
 
 To exercise his rights, the Turk 
 Made woman do his dirty work, 
 Or else, to serve a lower sense, 
 Kept her in drowsy indolence ; 
 And should his interest in her flag 
 He popped her straightway in a bag, 
 
And without any noise or fuss 
 Anchored her in the Bosphorus. 
 Her higher nature, nowise fed, 
 A wretchedj5tarved existence led, 
 And woman, crushed to earth, became 
 What man had made her — but a name. 
 In modern times she drove the plough, 
 She brought the children up somehow, 
 While he, her other half, enjoyed 
 Himself in seeing her employed. 
 He owned the house, he owned the land, 
 His orders none dared countermand, 
 He owned the wife and babies too; 
 He owned — that was enough to do. 
 She, fallen from her high estate, 
 Could only work, could only wait 
 And watch until she got a chance 
 To lead her lord a lively dance. 
 
She made the kitchen her domain, 
 
 And there, as queen, disposed to reign, 
 
 Such skill displayed, such orders gave, 
 
 Her master soon became her slave. 
 
 The ladle was her scepter then, 
 
 Held in high honor among men 
 
 Who higher walks in life forsook 
 
 To scrape acquaintance with the cook. 
 
 Her wit was equal to her need, 
 
 And e'en the king's wit did exceed, 
 
 For one who at her table sat, 
 
 The royal meal with friendly chat 
 
 Improving, turned the dumpling round 
 
 Which he upon the platter found, 
 
 And, seeing neither joint nor seam 
 
 Nor puckering-string, approved the scheme, 
 
 And said, on making the divide, 
 
 Ho%v did the apple get inside f ' 
 
Slave of men's appetites, for long 
 
 Poor woman suffered shame and wrong, 
 
 And, by her very acts made known 
 
 She dared not call her soul her own. 
 
 Ay, 'twas not easy to decide 
 
 If it should be baked, boiled, or fried. 
 
 Roasted, or broiled, or steamed, or whether 
 
 It should be literally sole-leather. 
 
Toy. 
 
S SOON as woman feels her 
 power, 
 
 She magnifies it from that hour, 
 And Vith her soft, vivacious wiles 
 The tender heart of youth beguiles; 
 Or, being worth her weight in gold, 
 Is often humored and cajoled.. 
 And held in durance, I'll engage, 
 By the rare splendor of her cage. 
 Tn velvets, silks and satins dressed, 
 Praised, complimented and caressed, 
 What marvel if she finds her joy 
 In these, and is herself a toy '. 
 
Her India shawls, her Turkish rugs, 
 
 Her diamonds, her expensive pugs, 
 
 Her pictures and her portieres, 
 
 Her cabinets of curious wares, 
 
 The admiration she excites. 
 
 The adulation she invites, 
 
 Please him whose vanity it thrills 
 
 To be allowed to pay her bills. 
 
 Man gives the keynote — this we know- 
 
 And woman, sing she high or low, 
 
 Is but responsive to the touch 
 
 Of one sl\e values overmuch. 
 
 If she is of obedient mind, 
 
 To listless indolence inclined, 
 
 And fills the measure of her life 
 
 By being a submissive wife, 
 
 In dainty tasks her lord commends 
 
 Day after day she idly spends, 
 
Nor dares defy express commands. 
 
 Lest she should soil her lily hands. 
 
 He does not wish to have her read, 
 
 Lest she his knowledge might exceed ; 
 
 Nor does he ever introduce 
 
 A thoughtful topic. What's the use? 
 
 Women were never meant to be 
 
 The rulers of their destiny. 
 
 Or, tempted from domestic cares. 
 
 To dabble in the world's affairs. 
 
 So whisper they who build a hedge 
 Of Kensington and feather-edge, 
 Around a field where every shade 
 Of floss and crewel is displayed. 
 Here as a Mediaeval saint 
 May lovely woman pose and paint, 
 Embroider altar-cloths, and find 
 
Sweet occupation for her mind, 
 And like a seraph sing, thereat, 
 Most grandly the Magnificat ! 
 In such pursuits as these, 'tis clear, 
 Lies woman's most appropriate sphere, 
 With which no man will interfere. 
 She takes advantage, now and then, 
 Of these peculiar views of men, 
 And, where disposed to make a dash, 
 Is prodigal of clothes and cash. 
 She has her opera-box, of course, 
 Her carriages, and such a force 
 Of servants — for no queen can reign 
 Appropriately without a train — - 
 Her home is simply, she avers, 
 A boarding-house for foreigners. 
 If charm of manner, or of face, 
 Is all by which she keeps her place, 
 
What wonder if she strives to hide, 
 By all the goods the gods provide, 
 The ravages of time, that knell 
 Her triumphs as a ball-room belle ! 
 The trifling chat, the ways, forsooth. 
 That are the joy and charm of youth, 
 Will lose their power, and cease to cast 
 A single spell when youth is past. 
 
 Then what is woman, left alone, 
 
 Upon her own resources thrown, 
 
 And forced to keep herself alive ? 
 
 How will she fare ? How will she thrive ? 
 
 Ah, blame her not for swift descent 
 
 Out of a storm-swept firmament. 
 
 Her sphere and man's are close allied, 
 
 Her loss of purity and pride 
 
 He still must share, for woman's part 
 
And place are level with man's heart. 
 
 In other clime, when he, whose joy j 
 
 It- was to keep her as a toy, 
 
 Left her in widow'd state, alas ! 
 
 What strange adventures came to pass. 
 
 She could not sport in widow's weeds, 
 
 She could not alter pagan creeds, 
 
 Nor spend her husband's garnered pelf, 
 
 But had to cross the Styx herself. 
 
 Exalted by his death, she makes 
 
 Her last great sacrifice, and takes 
 
 Her place upon the funeral pyre, 
 
 Rich fuel for the costly lire, 
 
 And shares her husband's bed and board 
 
 Unto the last, with sweet accord. 
 
Equal. 
 
_OMAN !" — a voice like thunder-roll 
 Broke through the silence of 
 her soul, 
 
 Unbarred the doors, let loose the power 
 That was, forsooth, her rightful dower; 
 And woman, answering to the call, 
 Stood forth supreme, arrayed in all 
 The virtues man accounted good, 
 That were the charm of womanhood. 
 The spell was broken that had wound 
 Its coils since childhood round and round, 
 
Until she lived and breathed and moved 
 Just as her overseer approved. 
 < Away !" she cried, "Let tyrants rule! 
 They'll find in me no willing tool, 
 Condemned to eat rejected crumbs, 
 And kept beneath imperial thumbs! 
 The way that's only meant for one 
 To travel in, I mean to shun, 
 Assured the vista opens best? 
 In that where two can walk abreast." 
 
 She paused awhile ere starting forth. 
 And found her compass pointed North— 
 ' An augury of storm and sleet, 
 And cool receptions she would meet. 
 But, undismayed, her strange device 
 She bore aloft through snow and ice, 
 
And turned a deaf ear unto those 
 
 Who would her onward course oppose. 
 
 Eager in her pursuit of knowledge, 
 
 She ventures to Columbia College. 
 
 And knocks again, and yet again, 
 
 At doors where knocking is in vain. 
 
 The Cerberus who sits on guard 
 
 Says, "Madam, all these doors are barred 
 
 'Gainst such as you. You're much too weak 
 
 To stand the exercise you seek, 
 
 And would, ere many days, succumb 
 
 'Neath our severe curriculum. 
 
 You could not pull a steady oar, 
 
 Nor bear your part as sophomore 
 
 To haze the freshmen boys by force, 
 
 According to our college course. 
 
 By nature you were not designed 
 
 To labor thus to train vour mind. 
 
Go to ! Your presence gives offence \ 
 Go anywhere — but get you hence !" 
 
 Pugnacious as old Cerberus 
 Himself, she who is counseled thus 
 Persists, determined. on to trudge 
 Until she finds the unjust judge 
 Who deigns to listen to her plea, 
 Moved by her importunity. 
 
 ' Give me a chance," she pleads with pride; 
 
 ' Give me a chance to get inside, 
 And I will take the risks, and share 
 In all the exercises there." 
 
 ' We'll build," says one, " a nice annex, 
 Where you'll not compromise your sex, 
 And academic rules enforce, 
 And give you a collegiate course." 
 
 ' Well, half a loaf," she said, with gall, 
 
Is better than no bread at all ! 
 
 And, though it sets our teeth on edge. 
 
 We'll use it as an entering wedge," 
 
 She found at last a worthy Prex 
 Who did not measure sex with sex. 
 But had the common sense to take 
 A forward step for woman's sake. 
 Behold her now, more emulous 
 Because of all this stir and fuss, 
 Studying Hebrew, Latin, Greek. 
 And going on from week to week 
 In such a steady, earnest way 
 Her libelers have naught to say. 
 Upon the rostrum and the stage 
 She takes the lead ! she's all the rage 
 And in the pulpit, too, she's found 
 
Whene'er the Sabbath day comes round. 
 
 The ailing parson, much too ill 
 
 His office in the church to fill. 
 
 Finds it convenient to depute 
 
 His wife to serve as substitute. 
 
 And if the doctor cannot go 
 
 To see his patients, it is so 
 
 Convenient, and so nice, if he 
 
 Has wedded partner an M. D., 
 
 Who deftly can prescribe and nurse 
 
 Without diminishing his purse. 
 
 Behind the counter, at the bar. 
 In counting-houses women are ; 
 On office-stools, from dawn till dark, 
 The objects of but slight remark, 
 Except from those who want to shirk 
 And put on them the extra work. 
 
She has her wish ; the goal is won ; 
 
 Woman has crossed the Rubicon,. 
 
 And there's an end of all her fun ! 
 
 She has an equal right to toil, 
 
 To burn and earn the midnight oil, 
 
 And — this enthusiasm kills — 
 
 An equal right to pay the bills ! 
 
 At Christmas time 'twas once her joy 
 
 To make the gifts for girl o'r boy, 
 
 And weave, with neatly -taken stitch. 
 
 True love, the offering to enrich. 
 
 But now, alas ! her duty calls 
 
 Her off to legislative halls, 
 
 The mother has no chance to make 
 
 Excursions for the children's sake. 
 
 She dresses plainly ; taste and pride 
 
 She regularly sets aside ; 
 
 The claims of social life abjures, 
 
And cannot go on shopping tours. 
 How oft her heart in secret bleeds, 
 How'oft her heart for pity pleads 
 We cannot know ; she'll ne'er confess 
 The measure of her wretchedness. 
 But oft in Summer's heat she'll dream 
 Of shady nook by murmuring stream, 
 Of rocky cliff or sandy shore, 
 Where she could hear old Ocean's roar 
 For six delightful weeks. But now, 
 The sweat of labor on her brow, 
 At her employers' beck and call, 
 She has no chance to rest at all ! 
 And her vacations are too brief 
 To give her the required relief. 
 
 While she o'er ponderous ledger sits, 
 Her husband or her brother quits 
 
His desk, and drives about the Park, 
 And makes acquaintance with the " lark.' 
 
 The field whence comes her revenue 
 Is scattered thickly o'er with rue, 
 But much too shrewd to own defeat. 
 She takes the bitter with the sweet. 
 When all else fails her will remains. 
 And in the weakest hour sustains. 
 Living or dying she would be 
 With man on an equality. 
 For this she toils till death brings rest ; 
 And then — it is her last request — 
 Her body duly they cremate. 
 That thus the ashes of the great 
 May be preserved ; and in a jar 
 Hermetically sealed they are. 
 Behold her husband and herself 
 
In family jars upon the shelf, 
 Where Science may their ashes scan, 
 And tell — as only Science can — 
 Which was the woman, which the man. 
 
ILLUSTRATED 
 
 Published Every Saturday 
 
 AT 
 
 140 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK 
 
 Price Ten Cents 
 Or Four Dollars a Year, in Advance 
 
 ACCURATE REPORTS OF ALL SOCIETY EVENTS 
 
 Ernest F. Birmingham & Co. 
 
 PROPRIETORS