She Is Your Partner, Don’t Cheat Her

A wife is either a partner or an employee. If a partner, she has a right to the fifty-fifty split on profits; if an employee she is entitled to her wages.

A thrifty husband is commendable, but a show-me-what-you-did-with-that-money husband should be punished by being sentenced to attend pink teas, afternoon receptions, and to match samples at the dry goods store.

Married folks must be on the partnership basis, or there’s sand in the gear box.

Give the wife the check-book; let her pay the bills; tote fair with her; show her and give her just what your income affords, and what economic and wise administration warrants; she’ll cut the cloth to fit the garment.

When the husband questions every turn, every move, every cent, the wife feels like a prisoner or a slave. Wives will do good team work when they are broken to double harness with their husbands.

Women are generally raised without any requirements of economy; they are pretty birds, and used to preening and smoothing their plumage and looking pretty.

It’s the female instinct in the human. In the animal world the male has the plumage and does the strutting and fascinating act; but in the human animal the female is the bird with the bright plumage.

You can’t expect her to know about pennies and purses and prudent purchases the moment you slip the ring on her finger.

But she’s an intelligent filly and she’ll go in double harness much better if trained and coaxed and petted than she will if she is haltered, broke and a Spanish bit put in her mouth by the husband’s stinginess.

She’ll shop better than her husband if he takes an interest in her shopping and encourages her in her economical administration of the household budget.

She wants a word of appreciation once in a while. She chills under the surveillance and parsimony of an eagle-eyed, detective, lawyer-like husband.

She’s a sweet bird and sweet birds and hawks don’t nest well together.

Where the hawk and the dove are in the same cage the feathers will fly.

As I came through the park this morning I saw a pair of robins who have the right idea. They share home responsibilities and do fine team work. I think they are mighty happy, too; daddy red breast looked mighty proud as he hustled worms for the family breakfast.

Mamma robin looked down with loving eyes at her hubby, and the little baby robins sang a chorus of joy at the very privilege of living in such a home.

Worry will fly out of the window the moment the husband and wife lay their cards on the table and play the open hand. The moment one or the other keeps a few cards in the sleeve, then worry and trouble comes back.

The moral of this is: husbands and wives, live together, get together, stay together, play together, save together, grow together, share together. Travel the same road; don’t take different paths.