It would be an excellent plan for each member of the household to resolve to put in its proper place everything which he or she observed out of order.  By the time this rule had been established for twenty-four hours, the house would be immaculate, and the mother find ample time for her mission,—­if she has any beside general chink-filler for the family.  If not, she will have an opportunity to rest.

A well-known author, who is at the same time an exemplary housewife, tells of how she retired one rainy spring morning to her study in just the mood for writing.  Husband and sons had gone to their various occupations.  She had a splendid day for work ahead of her.  She sat down to her desk and took up her pen.  The plot of a story was forming itself in her brain.  She dipped her pen in the ink and wrote: 

“He was—­”

A knock at the door.  Enter Anne.

“Please, mem, a mouse has eat a hole in one of your handsome napkins,—­them as I was to wash agin the company you’re expectin’ to-morrow night.  By rights it should be mended before it’s washed.”

“Bring it to the sewing-room.”

When the neat piece of darning was ended, the housekeeper repaired to the closet to put on a loose writing-sack.  On the nail next to the jacket hung her winter coat.  On the edge of the sleeve was a tiny hole.  The housewifely spirit was filled with dread.  There were actually moths in that closet!  She must attend to it immediately.  The woolens ought to be put up if moths had already appeared.  John’s clothes and the boys’ winter coats were in great danger of being ruined.  By lunch time the necessary brushing and doing up were ended.  But in stowing away the winter garments in the attic, our heroine was appalled at the confusion among the trunks.  The garret needed attention, and received it as soon as the noonday meal was dispatched.  At four o’clock, with the waitress’ assistance, the task was completed.  About the same time a note arrived from John saying he would be obliged to bring two of his old friends—­“swell bachelors”—­who were spending the day in town, to dine with him that night.  She “must not put herself to any trouble about dinner, and he would take them to the theatre in the evening.”  To the dinner already ordered were added oyster-pates, salad, with mayonnaise dressing, salted almonds, and, instead of the plain pudding that John liked, was a pie of which he was still more fond, capped by black coffee, all of which articles, except the last-named, were prepared by the hostess, who, in faultless toilette, with remarkably brilliant color, smilingly welcomed her husband and his guests to the half-past six dinner.  When they had gone to the theatre, and the mother had talked to her two sons of the day’s school experiences, before they settled down to their evening of study, she returned to the dining-room, and, as Mary had a headache and had had a busy day, she assisted in washing and wiping the unusual number of soiled dishes, and in setting the breakfast table.  At nine o’clock she dragged her weary self upstairs.  As she passed the door of her sanctum on the way to her bed-chamber, she paused, then entered, and lighted the gas-jet over her desk.  On it lay the page of foolscap, blank but for the words: