Among the things which may be easily and advantageously crowded out, we may rank unnecessary talking.  The housekeeper would be surprised were she to take note of the time spent by her servants, and, perhaps, even by herself, in saying a few words here, and telling a story there in the time which rightfully belongs to other tasks.  Could she look, herself unseen, into her kitchen, she would find Bridget and Norah, arms akimbo, comparing notes as to past “places” or present beaux.  Gossip is their meat and drink, and it does not occur to them, or they do not care, that they are paid the same wages for time thus spent as for the hours at the tubs and ironing-board.  “When you work, work; and when you play, play,” is an excellent motto for both mistress and maid.

To many workers there is a lack of courage and a sinking of heart at the thought of a large piece of work ahead of them, and such persons lose a vast amount of time in looking at a duty before they attack it.  This habit of dallying over a task is something which may certainly be crowded out.

The two great points in the successful management of time are concentration and system.  At the beginning of each day set duties in array before your mind’s eye, and attack them, one at a time.  This may at first sight sound like ridiculously unnecessary advice.  But unless my readers are exceptional women, they all know what it is to be so pressed with things that must be done that they do not know what to begin first.  Having chosen the most important task, attack that, and when you have once laid hold of the plough, drive straight ahead, not allowing the sight of another furrow, which is not just straight, to induce you to stop midway to straighten it before you have finished the one upon which your energies should now be bent.  Too many women are mere potterers, not earnest laborers.  They begin to make a bed, and stop to brush up some dust that has collected under the bureau.  Before the dust-pan is emptied, the thought occurs of a tear in one of the children’s aprons, and by the time that is mended, something else appears that needs attention, and all day long tasks are half completed and nothing is entirely finished, until at night the poor toiler is weary and discouraged, with nothing to show for her pains, except an anxious face and a semi-straight household.

Woman’s work is quite as dignified as man’s, and why should it not be arranged as carefully and systematically?  If some thing must be crowded out, let it be, with forethought and reason, set to one side,—­not shoved or huddled amid mess and confusion.

CHAPTER VIII.

WHAT GOOD WILL IT DO?

Thus I translate the Latin cui bono.  In whatever language the query is put, it is the most valuable balance-wheel ever attached to human action and speech.

The principle is old.  The pithy phrase in the shrewd Roman’s mouth was two-edged, and had a sharp point.  The enterprise that led to no good was not worth beginning.