Monday, January 7, 2013

Washing Day

THE FIRST WASHING DAY.

Did you ever wonder how it came about that we in this country must do the family washing on Monday,— always on Monday?
NOTE: I don't know about you, but in our house, wash day is, whenever it piles up and/or we get to it. Maybe Monday Wash Day is a bit out of date, but then, it might just be my lack of sticking to my housework schedule. Feel free to leave a comment if you have an official "wash day."
There are countries in Europe where it is the fashion to have, now and then, one great "washing day "— but only a few times in the year. In our country it is the fashion to have a "washing day" once a week; and so, of course, it is not a great day with us, coming, as it does, so often.

These European people sometimes laugh at us, and say that we are "forever over the wash tub." Well, perhaps we are. We won't argue about that; but one thing is sure: we come rightly enough by it. For what was the very first thing, do you think, these Pilgrim forefathers and foremothers of ours did when they reached the shores of this continent?

You see, the Mayflower had drifted into Massachusetts Bay, and there it lay at anchor just outside a little sheltered cove. The Pilgrims, some of them, had gone ashore to learn whether or not this was a suitable place for landing. It was a Monday morning. Nobody has ever told us; but it seems there came over the hearts of the good housekeeper women of the little band, the old-fashioned desire to " tidy up."

"What a fine place to do our washing, there in that little cove," said one good woman, looking longingly out across the water towards the shore.

"Yes, yes!" cried all the women. "Not a proper washing-day have we had in all these long weeks."

"And there are Baby Peregrine's dresses!" said Baby Peregrine's mother.

"And Oceanus's blanket!" said Baby Oceanus's mother.

"We will take them all with us," laughed the other good women, who, having no babies, were free to wash to their heart's content.

"You are kind to do this for our babies," said the two mothers. "It seems almost wrong that we should not do it ourselves."

"But the babies belong to us all," laughed Mary Chilton. "We are all aunts to the babies, you know."

Well, to make a long story short, what do you suppose these thrifty women did? They would rather have died than not to have been clean—these Pilgrims.

So the "washing" was gotten together, the women were rowed to the shore, and there in the cold, salty water of the bay, this Monday morning in the month of November, 1620, these foremothers of our nation washed and scrubbed in good English fashion. And the forefathers helped too. They built fires; they heated the water; and they helped to hang the clothes upon the trees and spread them out upon the snow.

It was not the way of these people to talk, or to laugh very much, or to be very gay; but, in their own quiet way, we have no doubt that they had a most happy time of it.

"It is very good to be clean," said one. with a sigh of contentment, when the clothes were all washed and dried.

"Cleanliness is akin to godliness," said another soberly, looking with satisfaction upon the great heap of fresh clean clothes, as they rowed back in their boat to the Mayflower. 
Do you think, little boys, little girls, that washing day isn't history? Do you think history is all battles? O, no; that washing-day is the very best of history. And why? Listen: because it shows the spirit of the times; and that is history always.
 
Title: Stories of Colonial Children
Author    Mara Louise Pratt-Chadwick
Publisher    Educational Publishing Company, 1894

(Google Book link)

 WASH DAY
 
SING a song of Monday,
Yard is full of clothes,
Sheets and pillow-cases
Hanging up in rows.
Pick the biggest sheet out,
It's a sail, that's plain,
Sit beneath and sail away
On the Spanish Main.

I will be Columbus,
You are Captain Drake,
Now the sails are swelling
What a voyage we'll make!
Sing a song of Monday,
Scrub your hands quite clean
Or there'll be discoveries
Books have never seen!


Title: The Gentlest Giant
Author: Anna Bird Stewart
Illustrated by: Dugald Stewart Walker
Publisher: Wayne Publishing Company, 1915
(Google book link)

*     *     *     *     *
WASH-DAY.

Moving day and the season of house cleaning, have been immortalized by painters and poets as periods of special interest in the domestic world. But for relaxations and recreations of this sort, homes would stagnate and humanity become torpid. Instinct teaches the eagle to "stir up her nest" for the benefit of her household, who, without it, would settle into inert and finally helpless imbecility. So moving day and house cleaning do their part towards making heroes and martyrs. But justice has never been done to the humble wash-day, which is as prolific of clean, healthful saintliness, as house cleaning is of noble heroism. The following humble effort to rescue this most interesting day from its obscurity and neglect, is given for what it is worth; and, it is hoped, it will be appreciated by the lovers of fair play and justice:


"WASH-DAY"—A POME.

Ho! all ye parsons, young and old,
List, as the story I unfold;
Though half the glory can't be told
Of wash-day.

The Sunday strain has laid you low:
Blue Monday shadows cloud your brow;
And clouds oft robe your saintly frow
On wash-day.

A pain, perchance, is in your head;
And you would longer keep your bed;
But—hustle out! For, hark, she said:
"'Tis wash-day!"

You're washed and dressed, and down the stair;
You've read the lesson—said the prayer;
And now you try the bill of fare
For wash-day.

The scraps from Sunday meals—the trash—
Is stewed and stirred and turned to hash.
"Refuse to eat it?" 'Twould be rash,
On wash-day.

Yes; gulp it down, and ask no questions;
Don't criticise—make no suggestions;
Some /rows do splode,—yes, e'en the best ones,—
On wash-day.

The garments soiled are strewn around;
Tubs, pots and wash-boards take the ground,
And things go splashing, slopping round
Through wash-day.

The baby, in his meditations,
Scolds the perverse concatenations,
That leave him to the sad mutations
Of wash-day.

The older urchins join, and do
Their "level best" to "put you through:"—
"Blue Monday," thus, is doubly blue
On wash-day.

If, from this steam and suds and bustle,
Out from the parsonage you hustle,
To exercise your mind and muscle
On wash-day;

You dare not, howsoever brave you
Are, make a call. A fool or knave you
Will be esteemed. "Soft soap" won't save you
On wash-day.

If to your study you would hie,
And sermons make, 'tis vain to try;
They're blued, wrung, starched, and stiff and dry
On wash-day.

"Pray for relief?"—A vain petition;
Your pouting vain—your fretting, wishing;
You'd best, like Peter, "go a fishing,"
On wash-day.

To prove my wisdom in this matter,—
This pome was writ amid the clatter,
And steam, and suds, and dash and spatter
Of wash-day.

 

Title: Methodism of the Peninsula
Author: Robert W. Todd
Publisher: Methodist Episcopal Book Rooms, 1886 

(Google book link)


                                                       INTRODUCTION.

SING while you work, my child," said a New England mother. "You will be twice as happy, and the time seem shorter."

All accustomed to dealing with children, recognize the fact that the hour of labor must be varied, brightened, and cheered, to make it endurable to the little workers...
...One child at a time, with line upon line, and precept upon precept, could be led through the varied path of house-work, but how to teach the masses, how to put courage into the drudgery, that was the problem.

In schools they are taught to read in classes; why not to cook, sweep, make beds, and wash dishes?
In the tub so cheerily our little hands must go,
Washing all so merrily, and washing white as snow;
In the tub so cheerily our little hands must go,
Washing all so merrily, and washing white as snow.

Chorus.—La, la, la, etc.

Up and down we rub the clothes,
With all our might and main,

Rubbing spots away;

And splish, splash, splash, off goes a stain,
Splish, splash, goes the stain.

Tra la la, tra la la, tra la la

While we wash, oh, readily, so white the garments grow,
Rub and scrub them steadily, and let clear water flow;
While we wash, oh, readily, so white the garments grow,
Rub and scrub them steadily, and let clear water flow.
Chorus.—La, la, la, etc.
*     *     *     *     *
WASHING SONG. (No. 2.)

Sort the clothes while water's heating,

With the greatest care;
Stretch the line out in the sunshine,

If the day is fair;
Rinse the tubs so nice and tidy,

All the specks away;
So begin your work all nicely

On the washing day.

First wash well the table linen,

While the water's clean;
Care for stains, you've learned the lesson,

Let them not be seen.
Then you rub them, cuffs and collars,

All the streaks away;
Work by rule, and work so nicely

On the washing day.

When the washing is quite finished,

And put out to dry,
Every pair all hung together

On the line so high,
Put the flat-irons on the furnace,

For it is the way,
Always to press out the flannels

On the washing day.

*     *     *     *     *

CLOTHES-LINE EXERCISE.

Class form in a ring. First chord, class turn to the right. Second chord, form in couples. Lively Galop. First couple skip round to the teacher, who holds the jump ropes. She gives one little girl a rope and the child jumps rope back to her place, the others starting as soon as she is at a safe distance. Then the next couple, and so on. After the child has her rope and has returned to her place, she doubles the rope,, and taking hold of both doubled ends, holds them on her hips. When every girl in the circle has her rope, and is in this position, the music changes to a Mazurka, the class advancing with the right foot, and rising and sinking and retreating, and rising and sinking four times, keeping the hands and rope in the original position. The left foot the same. Then the same exercise, only raising and dropping the right hand at the advance of the foot. Then the left hand with the left foot. Then alternating left and right hands and feet.

The last couple that go for their ropes, should go into the centre of the circle at the beginning of this exercise, and standing with their backs to each other, act as leaders for the others.

At the close of this exercise, while merry music is being played, the centre girls collect one end of the rope of each girl. When they are all collected, thus forming a wheel, the following song is sung:  
For our ropes we skip away,
Every one to our little play,
Showing you in our own way,
What we do on washing day.
Showing you in our own way,
What we do on washing day.

See the clothes-line, how it blows!
Put up high to dry the clothes.
Stretch it in the bright sun-light;
Always take it in at night.
Stretch it in the bright sun-light;
Always take it in at night.

Now we leave our little play,
Jumping with our ropes away;
For all work and no little play,
Makes a dreary washing day.
For all work and no little play,
Makes a dreary washing day.
At the first verse, the girls holding one end of their own ropes, sway them in imitation of the wind-blowing. At the second verse, at the line "Always take them in at night," each girl takes her own rope to herself. At the last verse, "Now we leave our little play," the head girl jumps across the centre of the ring, out of the room, the others following as soon as a safe distance is between. Class returning without their ropes, forming in a ring, are dismissed. The closing of this game must be arranged according to the accommodations of the room.

Title: The kitchen garden; or, Object lessons in household work
Author: Emily Huntington
Illustrated by: Frédéric Vors
Publisher    Schermerhorn, 1878

NOTE: The Kitchen Garden has lots of neat lessons, for example: Stick Laying (how to build a fire), Paper Folding (intro to folding clothes), Dish Washing and Table Setting, Making Beds, Moulding (Pat-A-Cake, etc. for making bread), and even Knowing your Salts:
The rest of the Salt Song can be found on pages 110-111.

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