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Nov. 24, 1860.]
THE NEEDLEWOMAN.
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women. There was an earlier report on the case of the milliners which made such an impression on the highest lady in the land, that she inquired of those about her who were most likely to know, whether such things could be true. No one so impressed could ever hurry her dressmaker again.

The dressmaker ought to understand her liabilities, before she pledges herself to the employment. If this were properly attended to, there would be fewer dressmakers, and they would make a better stand for their health. I should be sorry to have a hand in inducing any girl to apprentice herself to the business, within the range of the London season. In provincial towns it is another affair.

The workwoman should make certain stipulations, which nothing should induce her to surrender. If she is lodged in the establishment, she should insist on being allowed to air her room. The collective workers should take care that their day-room is kept cool and airy, and the fire and lights properly managed. Each should ensure a daily walk,—either by being sent out on business, or by the work being so arranged as to admit of an hour’s exercise, morning or evening. Every encroachment on moderate hours of work should be resisted, except on special occasions, such as a large order for mourning, when all must accommodate. In London, at times of extreme pressure, the meals are bolted in the smallest number of minutes. Then the cutter-out and the attendants in the show-room are glad to sit down; and the sewers are equally glad to get up; and they may be seen swallowing their meals standing. In the dressmaker’s ordinary life, the meals should be comfortably put on table in a fresh room, and a sufficient time allowed for leisurely eating,—to say nothing of some little time being allowed for rest after the dinner. It is a substantial gain when the worker lives in a home or a lodging of her own; for then she can make arrangements for counteracting much of the mischief of her occupation. A bedroom to herself, quiet and airy; an early morning walk; and a change of scene and associates every twenty-four hours, may improve a woman’s chances of health incalculably.

The dressmaker’s and milliner’s aspect is familiar to doctors, and all other observers of countenances. The eyes have a dead look; the complexion is not clear, and usually more or less yellow; the frown shows that there is a tight band round the forehead; the carriage betokens a chill down the back; the movements show that the feet are cold: the respiration is not free, and the only doubt is whether the mischief is in the lungs or the liver; and, above all, the anxiety of the countenance tells the tale of an unnatural mode of life. On inquiry, it appears that the appetite is not good,—that the sleep is not good,—that the spirits are not good. It would be a wonder if they were; for the sight is failing. Oculists tell us that they have always many needlewomen on their lists, and that they always expect more after a general mourning. It is quite right to recommend, as they do, that the workwomen should change the colours on which they are employed very frequently; and also, that there should be green furniture,—curtains at least,—in the workrooms, as is the frequent practice among lacemakers, and the constant usage among embroiderers in China.

There is no use in preaching against tea to needlewomen. They cannot do without it, and ought not to be asked; for it is a genuine medicine to sedentary persons. When taken—strong, green, and hot—to keep people awake when they ought to be asleep, it is poison: but black tea is a medicine for a delicate liver, when taken in moderation, at breakfast and teatime. There is much more need of warning about the porter and ale and mutton three times a day, with which overwrought dressmakers and shopwomen (and shopmen too) are kept up to the calls upon them.

On the whole, it is best, even now, when so few occupations are open to women, to sacrifice much, where there is any option, rather than enter on an occupation so injurious as that of incessant needlework. Where the necessity is imperative, it is a duty to take every possible precaution against the dangers of the case. There are hundreds now among us, blind, consumptive, or suffering under spinal disease, who might by timely care have been saved. How many more are in their graves, who shall tell us?

In Ireland there is a class different from any yet mentioned. The “hand-sewing,” paid for by Glasgow merchants chiefly, employs 400,000 women and girls in their own cabins. The work is embroidery on muslin,—the patterns being stamped by men in the great houses in Glasgow and Belfast, from which the work is given out. It was a great thing for Ireland, after the famine, that the women and girls earned in this way between eighty and ninety thousand pounds per week; but the growing children pay dear for the honour of helping to support the family. They earned only sixpence a day, poor things! and it was sad to see them leaning their weary backs against the door-posts, or growing crooked in their unchanging and constrained position. Now that times have improved, and are improving, in their country, we should be glad to hear of fewer “hand-sewers” and of more women being engaged in the linen manufacture, from the flax-growing process up to the final act of finishing the packages of beautiful damasks, linens, and muslins.

The sewing-machine may intervene here, as in almost every department of needlework. It can embroider beautifully already. Some may imagine that it will preclude human sewing altogether; but this need not be believed, any more than it can at present be wished. It seems as if there must always be parts of the work (whatever its kind) which must be done by hand; and those parts will always be best done by hands which are skilful in the whole process. Thus we need not fear that the graceful and pleasant arts of the needle will die out, within any assignable time, but may apply ourselves to stop the sacrifice of life and health which is the barbarous feature of the art, and retain and refine whatever in it is serviceable and elegant. We must not stop in our improvements till needlewomen are indistinguishable from the rest of the world on the ground of health.

Harriet Martineau.