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CHAPTER
IV. THEY
called me to supper. "Most of us have our heartiest meal in the middle
of
the day," my sister said. "The average man, O Victim of Copious
Instruction," added my brother-in-law, "does his work in the morning;
the two hours that he has to, or the four that he usually puts in.
Eight to
twelve, or nine to one — that is the working day for everybody. Then
home,
rest, a bath maybe, and then — allow me to help you to some of our
Improvements!" I was
hungry, and this simple meal looked and smelled most appetizing. There
was in
particular a large shining covered dish, which, being opened, gave
forth so
savory a steam as fairly to make my mouth water. A crisp and toothsome
bread
was by my plate; a hot drink, which they laughingly refused to name,
proved
most agreeable; a suave, cool salad followed; fruits, some of which
were new to
me, and most delicate little cakes, closed the meal. They would
not tell me a thing, only saying "Have some more!" and I did. Not
till I had eaten, with continuous delight, three helpings from the
large dish
did I notice that it stood alone, so to speak. Nellie
followed my eye with her usual prompt intelligence. "Yes," she said,
"this is all. But we can send for other things in the twinkling of an
eye;
what would you like?" I leaned
back in my chair and looked at her reproachfully. "I would like some of
that salad — not very much, please. And some
of those Burbankian products yonder, and one particular brown little
cake — if
I can hold it." Nellie
smiled demurely. "Oh!" she mildly remarked, "I thought for the
moment that our little supper seemed scant to you." I glared
at her, retorting, "Now I will not utter the grateful praises that were
rising to my lips. I will even try to look critical and dissatisfied."
And
I did, but they all laughed. "It's
no manner of use, Uncle John," cried my pretty niece; "we saw you eat
it." "'It'
indeed!" I protested. "What is this undeniably easy-to-take
concoction you have stuffed me with?" "My
esteemed new brother," Owen answered, "we have been considering your
case in conclave assembled, and we think it is wiser to feed you for
awhile and
demand by all the rites of hospitality that you eat what is set before
you and
ask no questions for conscience sake. When you begin to pine, to lose
your
appetite, to look wan and hollow-eyed, then we may reconsider.
Meanwhile we
will tell you everything you want to know about food in general, and
even some
particulars — present dishes always excepted." "I
will now produce information," began Hallie, "my office being that of
Food Inspector." "Her
main purpose in bringing you here, Uncle, was to give you food and then
talk
about it," said Jerrold solemnly. Hallie only made a face at him, and
went
on: "We
have a magnificent system of production and distribution," she
explained,
"with a decreasing use of animal
foods." "Was
this a vegetarian meal?" I asked in a hollow voice. "Mostly;
but you shall have meat when you want it — better meat than you used to
get,
too." "Cold
Storage Meat?" "Oh,
no; that's long since stopped. The way we manage about meat is this: A
proper
proportion of edible animals are raised under good conditions — nice, healthy,
happy beasts; killed so that they don't know and never
kept beyond a certain time limit. You see — " she paused, looking for
the
moment like her mother, "the whole food business is changed — you don't
realize — " "Go
ahead and tell me — tell me all — my life at present is that of Rollo,
I
perceive, and I am most complacent after this meal." "Uncle,
I rejoice in your discovery, I do indeed. You are an uncle after my own
heart," said Jerrold. So my fair
niece, looking like any other charming girl in a pretty evening frock,
began to
expound her specialty. Her mother begged to interrupt for the moment.
"Let
me recall to him things as they were — which you hardly know, you happy
child.
Don't forget, John, that when we were young we did not know what good
food
was." I started
to protest, but she shook her finger at me. "No,
we didn't, my dear boy. We knew 'what we liked,' as the people said at
the
picture show; but that did not make it good — good in itself or good
for us.
The world was ill-fed. Most of the food was below par; a good deal was
injurious, some absolutely poison. People sold poison for food in 1910,
don't
forget that. You may remember the row
that was
beginning to be made about it." I admitted
recalling something of the sort, though it had not particularly
interested me
at the time. "Well,
that row went on — and gained in force. The women woke up." "If
you have said that once since we met, my dear sister, you've said it
forty
times. I wish you would make a parenthesis in these food discussions
and tell
me how, when and why the women woke up." Nellie
looked a little dashed, and Owen laughed outright. "You
stand up for your rights, John!" he said, rising and slapping me on the
shoulder. "Let's go in the other room and settle down for a chin — it's
our fate." "Hold
him till he sees our housekeeping," said Jerrold. I stood watching,
while
they rapidly placed our dishes — which I now noticed were very few — in
a neat
square case which stood on a side table. Everything went in out of
sight; paper
napkins from the same receptacle wiped the shining table; and then a
smooth-running dumbwaiter took it from our sight. "This
is housework," said Nellie, mischievously. "I
refuse to be impressed. Come back to our muttons," I insisted. "You
can tell me about your domestic sleight-of-hand in due season." So we
lounged in the large and pleasant parlor, the broad river before us,
rimmed
with starry lamps, sparkling everywhere with the lights of tiny
pleasure craft,
and occasionally the blaze and wash of larger boats. I had a sense of
pleasant
well-being. I had eaten heartily, very heartily, yet was not oppressed.
My new-found
family pleased me well. The quiet room was beautiful in color and
proportion,
and as my eyes wandered idly over it I noted how few in number and how
harmonious were its contents giving a sense of peace and spaciousness. The air
was sweet — I did not notice then, as I did later, that the whole city
was
sweet-aired now; at least by comparison with what cities used to be.
From
somewhere came the sound of soft music, grateful to the ear. I
stretched myself
luxuriously with: "Now,
then, Nellie — let her go — 'the women woke up.' " "Some
women were waking up tremendously, before you left, John Robertson,
only I dare
say you never noticed it. They just kept on, faster and faster, till
they all
did — about all. There are some Dodos left, even yet, but they don't
count —
discredited grandmothers!" "And,
being awake?" I gently suggested. "And
being awake, they — " She paused for an instant, seeking an expression,
and Jerrold's smooth bass voice put in, "They saw their duty and they
did
it." "Exactly,"
his mother agreed, with a proudly loving glance at him; "that's just
what
they did! And in regard to the food business, they recognized at last
that it
was their duty to feed the world — and that it was miserably done! So
they took
hold." "Now,
mother, this is my specialty," Hallie interposed. "When
a person can only talk about one thing, why oppose them?" murmured
Jerrold. But she quite ignored him, and reopened her discussion. "We —
that is, most of the women and some of the men — began to seriously
study the
food question, both from a hygienic and an economic standpoint. I can't
tell
you that thirty years' work in a minute, Uncle John, but here's the way
we
manage it now: We have learned very definitely what people ought not to
eat,
and it is not only a punishable, but a punished offense to sell
improper food
stuffs." "How
are the people to know?" I ventured. "The
people are not required to know everything. All the food is watched and
tested
by specialists; what goes into the market is good — all of it." "By
impeccable angelic specialists — like my niece?" She shook
her head at me. "If they were not, the purchaser would spot them at
once.
You see, our food supply is not at the mercy of the millions of
ignorant
housewives any more. Food is bought and prepared by people who know how
— and
they have all the means — and knowledge — for expert tests." "And
if the purchaser too was humanly fallible? — " She cast a
pitying glance on me, and her father took the floor for a moment. "You
see, John, in the old time the dealers were mostly poor, and sold cheap
and bad
stuff to make a little money. The buyers were mostly poor, and had to
buy the
cheap and nasty stuff. Even large manufacturers were under pressure,
and had to
cheat to make a profit — or thought they had to. Then when we got to
inspectors
and such like they were under the harrow, too, and were by no means
inpeccable.
Our big change is this: Nobody is poor now." "I
hear you say that," I answered, "but I can't seem to get it through
my head. Have you really divided all the property?" "John
Robertson, I'm ashamed of you!" cried Nellie. "Even in 1910 people
knew better than that — people who knew anything!" "That
wasn't necessary," said Owen, "nor desirable. What we have done is
this: First, we have raised the productive capacity of the population;
second,
we have secured their right to our natural resources; third, we have
learned to
administer business without waste. The wealth of the world grows
enormously. It
is not what you call 'equally distributed,' but every one has enough.
There is
no economic danger any more; there is economic peace." "And
economic freedom?" asked I sharply. "And
economic freedom. People choose the work they like best, and work —
freely,
more than they have to." I pondered
on this. "Ah, but they have to —
labor is compulsory." Owen
grinned. "Yes, labor is compulsory — always was. It is compulsory on
everyone now. We used to have two sets who wouldn't work — paupers and
the idle
rich; no such classes left — all busy." "But,
the freedom of the individual — " I persisted. "Come,
come, brother; society always played hob with the freedom of the
individuals
whenever it saw fit. It killed, imprisoned, fined; it had compulsory
laws and
regulations; it required people to wear clothes and furnished no
clothes for
them to wear. If society has a right to take human life, why has it not
a right
to improve it? No, my dear man," continued Owen (he was evidently
launched
on his specialty now) "society is not somebody else domineering over
us! Society
is us — taking care of ourselves." I took no
exception to this, and he began again. "Society, in our young days, was
in
a state of auto-intoxication. It generated its own poisons, and
absorbed them
in peaceful, slow suicide. To think! — it seems impossible now — to
think of
allowing anybody to sell bad food!" "That
wasn't the only bad thing they sold," I suggested. "No;
unfortunately. Why, look here — " Owen slid a glass panel in the wall
and
took out a book. "That's
clever," I remarked approvingly. "Bookcases built in!" "Yes,
they are everywhere now," said Nellie. "Books — a
few of them — are common human necessities. Every home, every room
almost, has
these little dust-tight, insect-proof wall cases. Concrete construction
has
helped very much in all such matters." Owen had
found his place, and now poured upon me a concentrated list of the
adulterated
materials deteriorating the world in that period so slightingly
referred to as
"my day." I noticed with gratitude that Owen said "When we were
young!" "You
never were sure of getting anything pure," he said scornfully, "no
matter what you paid for it. How we submitted to such rank outrage for
so long
I cannot imagine! This was taken up very definitely some twenty years
ago, by
the women mostly." "Aha
— when the women woke up!" I cried. "Yes,
just that. It is true that their being mostly mere housewives and
seamstresses
was a handicap in some ways; but it was a direct advantage in others.
They were
almost all consumers, you see, not producers. They were not so much
influenced
by considerations of the profits of the manufacturer as they were by
the direct
loss to their own pockets and health. Yes," he smiled reminiscently,
"there were some pretty warm years while this thing was thrashed out.
One
of the most successful lines of attack was in the New Food system,
though." "I will
talk!" cried Hallie.
"Here I've inveigled Uncle John up here — and — and fed him to
repletion;
and have him completely at my mercy, and then you people butt in and do
all the
talking!" "Go
it, little sister — you're dead right!" agreed Jerrold. "You
see, Uncle, it's one thing to restrain and prevent and punish — and
another
thing to substitute improvements." "Kindergarten
methods?" I ventured. "Yes,
exactly. As women had learned this in handling children, they began to
apply it
to grown people — the same children, only a little older. Ever so many
people
had been talking and writing about this food business, and finally some
of them
got together and really started it." "One
of these co-operative schemes?" I was beginning, but the women looked
at
me with such pitying contempt that I promptly withdrew the suggestion. "Not
much!" said Nellie disdainfully. "Of course, those co-operative
schemes were a natural result of the growing difficulties in our old
methods,
but they were on utterly wrong lines. No, sir; the new food business
was a real
business, and a very successful one. The first company began about 1912
or '13,
I think. Just some women with a real business sense, and enough
capital. They
wisely concluded that a block of apartments was the natural field for
their
services; and that professional women were their natural patrons." "The
unprofessional women — or professional wives, as you might call them —
had only
their housewifery to preserve their self-respect, you see," put in
Owen.
"If they didn't do housekeeping for a living, what — in the name of
decency — did they do?" "This
was called the Home Service Company," said Hanle. "(I will talk,
mother!) They built some unusually attractive apartments, planned by
women, to
please women; this block was one of the finest designs of their
architects —
women, too, by the way." "Who
had waked up," murmured Jerrold, unnoticed. "It
was frankly advertised as specially designed for professional women.
They
looked at it, liked it, and moved it; teachers, largely doctors,
lawyers,
dressmakers; women who worked." "Sort
of a nunnery?" I asked. "My
dear brother, do you imagine that all working women were orphan
spinsters, even
in your day?" cried Nellie. "The self-supporting women of that time
generally had other people to support, too. Lots of them were married;
many
were widows with children; even the single ones had brothers and
sisters to
take care of." "They
rushed in, anyhow," said Hallie. "The place was beautiful and built
for enjoyment. There was a nice garden in the middle — " "Like
this one here?" I interrupted. "This is a charming patio. How did
they make space for it?" "New
York blocks were not divinely ordained," Owen replied. "It occurred
to the citizens at last they they could bisect those 200x800-foot
oblongs, and
they did. Wide, tree-shaded, pleasant ways run between the old avenues,
and the
blocks remaining are practically squares." "You
noticed the irregular border of grass and shrubbery as we came up,
didn't you,
Uncle?" asked Jerrold. "We forgot to speak about it, because we are
used to it." I did
recall now that our ride had been not through monotonous, stone-faced,
right-angled ravines, but along the pleasant fronts of gracious varying
buildings, whose skyline was a pleasure and street line bordered
greenly. "You
didn't live here and don't remember, maybe," Owen remarked, "but the
regular thing uptown was one of those lean, long blocks, flat-faced and
solid,
built to the sidewalk's edge. If it was a line of private houses they
were
bordered with gloomy little stone-paved areas, and ornamented with
ash-cans and
garbage pails. If the avenue end was faced with tall apartments, their
lower
margin was infested with a row of little shops — meat, fish, vegetable,
fruit —
with all their litter and refuse and flies, and constant traffic. Now a
residence block is a thing of beauty on all sides. The really necessary
shops
are maintained, but planned for in the building, and made beautiful.
Those
fly-tainted meat markets no longer exist." "I will
talk!" said Hallie, so
plaintively that we all laughed and let her. "That
first one I was telling you about was very charming and attractive.
There were
arrangements on the top floor for nurseries and child gardens; and the
roof was
for children all day; evenings the grown-ups had it. Great care was
taken by
the management in letting this part to the best professionals in child
culture. "There
were big rooms, too, for meetings and parties; places for billiards and
bowling
and swimming — it was planned for real human enjoyment, like a summer
hotel." "But
I thought you said this place was for women," I incautiously ventured. "Oh,
Uncle John! And has it never occurred to you that women like to amuse
themselves? Or that professional women have men relatives and men
friends?
There were plenty of men in the building, and plenty more to visit it.
They
were shown how nice it was, you see. But the chief card was the food
and
service. This company engaged, at high wages, first-class houseworkers,
and the
residents paid for them by the hour; and they had a food service which
was
beyond the dreams of — of — homes, or boarding houses." "Your
professional women must have been millionaires," I mildly suggested. "You
think so because you do not understand the food business, Uncle John;
nobody
did in those days. We were so used to the criminal waste of individual
housekeeping, with its pitifully low standards, and to monotonous
low-grade
restaurant meals, with their waste and extortion, that it never
occurred to us
to estimate the amount of profit there really was in the business.
These
far-seeing women were pioneers — but not for long! Dozens are claiming
first
place now, just as the early Women's Clubs' used to. "They
established in that block a meal service that was a wonder for
excellence, and
for cheapness, too; and people began to learn." I was
impressed, but not convinced, and she saw it. "Look
here, Uncle John, I hate to use figures on a helpless listener, but you
drive
me to it." Then she
reached for the bookcase and produced her evidence, sparingly, but with
effect.
She showed me that the difference between the expense of hiring
separate
service and the same number of people patronizing a service company was
sufficient to reduce expenses to the patrons and leave a handsome
payment for
the company Owen
looked on, interpreting to my ignorance. "You
never kept house, old, man," he said, "nor thought much about it, I
expect; but you can figure this out for yourself easily enough. Here
were a
hundred families, equal to, say, five hundred persons. They hired a
hundred
cooks, of course; paid them something like six dollars a week — call it
five on
an average. There's $500 a week, just for cooks — $26,000 a year! "Now,
as a matter of fact (our learned daughter tells us this), ten cooks are
plenty
for five hundred persons — at the same price would cost $1,300 a year!"
"Ten
are plenty, and to spare," said Hal-lie; "but we pay them handsomely.
One chef at 3,000; two next bests at $2,000 each, four thousand; two at
$1,000
apiece, two thousand; five at $800, four thousand. That's $13,000 —
half what
we paid before, and the difference in service between a kitchen maid
and a
scientific artist." "Fifty
per cent. saved on wages, and 500 per cent, added to skill," Owen
continued. "And you can go right on and add 90 per cent. saving in
fuel,
90 per cent. in plant, 50 per cent. in utensils, and — how much is it,
Hallie,
in materials?" Hallie
looked very important. "Even
when they first started, when food was shamefully expensive and
required all
manner of tests and examinations, the saving was all of 60 per cent.
Now it is
fully 80 per cent." "That
makes a good deal all told, Uncle John," Jerrold quietly remarked,
handing
me a bit of paper. "You see, it does leave a margin of profit." I looked
rather helplessly at the figures; also at Hallie. "It
is a shame, Uncle, to hurry you so, but the sooner you get these little
matters
clear in your head, the better. We have these great food furnishing
companies,
now, all over the country; and they have market gardens and dairies and
so on,
of their own. There is a Food Bureau in every city, and a National Food
Bureau,
with international relations. The best scientific knowledge is used to
study
food values, to improve old materials and develop new ones; there's a
tremendous gain." "But
— do the people swallow things as directed by the government?" I
protested. "Is there no chance to go and buy what you want to eat when
you
want it?" They rose
to their feet with one accord. Jerrold seized me by the hand. "Come
on, Uncle!" he cried. "Now is as good a time as any. You shall see
our food department — come to scoff and remain to prey — if you like." The
elevator took us down, and I was led unresistingly among their shining
modernities. "Here
is the source of supply," said Owen, showing where the basement supply
room connected with a clean, airy subway under the glass-paved
sidewalk.
"Ice we make, drinking water we distil, fuel is wired to us; but the
food
stuffs are brought this way. Come down early enough and you would find
these
arteries of the city flowing steadily with —" "Milk
and honey," put in Jerrold. "With
the milk train, the meat train, the vegetable train, and so on." "Ordered
beforehand?" I asked. "Ordered
beforehand. Up to midnight you may send down word as to the kind of
mushrooms
you prefer — and
no extra charge. During the day you can
still order, but there's a trifle more expense — not much. But most of
us are
more than content to have our managers cater for us. From the home
outfit you
may choose at any time. There are lists upstairs, and here is the
array." There were
but few officials in this part of the great establishment at this hour,
but we were
politely shown about by a scholarly looking man in white linen, who had
been
reading as we entered. They took me between rows of glass cases,
standing as
books do in the library, and showed me the day's baking; the year's
preserves;
the fragrant, colorful shelves of such fruit and vegetables as were not
fresh
picked from day to day. "We
don't get to-day's strawberries till the local ones are ripe," Jerrold
told us. "These
are yesterday's, and pretty good yet." "Excuse
me, but those have just come in," said the white-linen person; "this
morning's picking, from Maryland." I tasted
them with warm approval. There was a fascinating display of cakes and
cookies,
some old favorites, some of a new but attractive aspect; and in
glass-doored
separate ice-chambers, meats, fish, milk, and butter. "Can
people come in here and get what they want, though?" I inquired
triumphantly. "They
can, and occasionally they do. But what it will take you some time to
realize,
John," my sister explained, "is the different attitude of people
toward their food. We are all not only well fed — sufficiently fed —
but so
wisely fed that we seldom think of wanting anything further. When we do
we can
order from upstairs, come down to the eating room and order, send to
the big
depots if it is some rare thing, or even come in like this. To the
regular
purchasers it is practically free," "And
how if you are a stranger — a man in the street?" "In
every city in our land you may go into any eating house and find food
as good —
and cheap — as this," said Hallie, triumphantly. |