women to try the experiment of having their household employees live
outside their place of employment. The result from an economic point
of view alone is amazing, and the relief it brings the housewife who
is no longer obliged to provide food and sleeping accommodations for
her employees is so great that one wonders why she has been willing to
burden herself with these responsibilities for so many years.

There was once a time when women did not go out alone to eat in a
restaurant, but to-day one sees about as many women as men eating their
midday meal in public. If women engaged in general business prove
themselves thus capable of self care, there seems to be no reason why
household employees, who often receive higher wages than shop girls and
stenographers, should not be able to do the same. They would enjoy their
meals more outside, albeit the food given them in their employer's house
is undoubtedly of a better quality; the change of surroundings and the
opportunity of meeting friends, of leaving their work behind them, would
compensate them. In any event, it is clearly proved by the scarcity of
women applying for positions in private houses that these two advantages
only to be obtained in domestic labor--board and lodging--do not attract
the working woman of the present day.

The joy of eating the bread of independence is an old and deeply rooted
feeling. There is an ancient fable of Æsop about the Dog and the Wolf
which portrays this sentiment in a very quaint and delightful manner.
(Sir Roger l'Estrange's translation.)

THE DOG AND THE WOLF

There was a Hagged Carrion of a _Wolf_, and a Jolly Sort of a
Gentile _Dog_, with Good Flesh upon's Back, that fell into Company