What Are You GoingTo DoVfienYou Get Old ? w !£ lba^©ini P it g®tt 4ib@ m®ir&©y • an©@dlira p ft ©©mm© V®mdl/ 9 ✓ s®©m it© lb© ftfia© gr®' wing §©mi° /s/' ftMneirafts, wnft&B few ©xe©jpitn®ini§ p toward! ag©d! p©@pl© ®n ftb© MY, WHAT WILL IT BE AT 70? A ►? rib A A "HOME" OR CLOTHESLINE? MANY UNTOLD* TRAGEDIES WHAT are you going to do i when you get old? If you t are a man, will you peg t rugs in many colors, like a certain 1 artistic, octogenarian gentleman at one of the "homes?" or, if you are a ( woman, will you keep to the open by j being a tottery nursemaid for babies? , or will you try the clothesline route? ( Heaven forbid! t But, "If you haven't got money, you j needn't come 'round" seems to be the ( growing sentiment (with a few excep- . tions) toward aged people on the part ( of their families. There are no longer ( golden-haired little girls with a dis position to lead grandpa around. Chil- dren are too busy "developing" at ( Montessorl schools to waste their time picking up grandma's spectacles. . Young matrons In America have to "lead their own lives," and their fold- ing-bed apartments have scarcely space enough for the refrigerating plant, to say nothing of "his" or "her" ■ parents. Any grandma who has such a thing as a rocking chair in her bed room ought to count herself fortunate. There 1B nothing of China in Ameri can up-to-date society—China, where 1 the young wife says "No one is wor- 1 thy of respect who does not obey her 1 mother-in-law." So the aged man or woman Is left ; high and dry to carve his or her own ] fate. It is just as well, in life's hey day, to anticipate the time when the sound of the grinding is low and the golden bowl Is cracked at least, If not broken. So what are you going to do when you get old? "Over the hill to the Poorhouse I'm wending my weary way; I, a woman of seventy, And only a trifle gray." This was about the saddest story that Will Carleton could write, and the poem has doubtless kept a large population from going "on the county," as they say in New England. Looking at It philosophically, there Is a certain independence in going to the place which modern delicacy styles the "Infirmary." It is democratic. One has paid one's taxes, If not directly, at least through the landlord, who tacks on an extra rent dollar every time you paint your own door sill or plant a tree in your yard. It is through taxes that the infirmary Is kept up, and you have a right to its benefits. But there is another side to this. A certain dumpy old man, who shrank lengthwise when he was "active," al ways digging ditches in wet mud, complains that they hang the tlncup too high in the Infirmary. What a nuisance, always to have to ask some one to get the tin cup down for you, and there 1B nothing but water to drink, of course. Even before the war there was nothing but water. Then the old women have to wear blue calico, which is a great Irritation to some of them. People generally have a wrong Impression that all van ity flees when failing eyesight comes on, and "a dullness in hearing," as Bishop Tuttle describes it. Not so with women. Cosmetic Pedler Finds Eager Customers iu Home. If they ever did like to be pretty, tbey wish it more than before as old age comes on. A cosmetic peddler finds eager customers in an old ladies' home. Appetite may have failed, but rather than candy or custards in the roof of their poor mouths, would they like some magic to take the brown spots off their faces, or to make the gray hair more thickly, for "it comes out so in the summer, around the part ing place, and it never used to." There is a true story of a dear old lady. She had long been a widow, and never had children, but kept a little store, near a school, where the chil dren spent one penny after another, for sweets and the like. All her trade was in pennies, and when it came to closing out and selling her "good will," the moßt that she could ask for this spiritual commodity was s3oo— the sum needed for entrance into this quiet pleasing "home," which is really a beautiful place. The old stone house, once a "tavern" In Lewis' and Clark days, is set far back from Broadway, so that great beds of sweet Williams and asters may flourish, with bright verbenas, and a background of tansy and tiger lilies and bouncing AT 90, SHE LABORS FOR "DEAR SON" WHO IS 70 A VISIT to an old persons' home brings to light many small sor rows. One spry old lady past 90 knits sweaters and sells them so that "dear son," who is out in the world at the age of 70, may have added comforts in his "old age." But this unselfish soul, who has made everybody love her by her sunny nature, has received the reward of the brightest room in the house, and for this she is envied secretly by those of less happy disposition. "I just wish you would write it up in the newspapers," says one gloomy-looking creature. "She purrs around the matron and flatters her, that's what she does. And then she gets the reputation of being 'so sweet' Huh! Anybody could be sweet with all that sunshine com ing in her room. I can't even get the dining-room girl to remember that I like a glass of water with my breakfast And I mustn't get up and get it myself. Oh, no, that's against the rules. Bosh!". betties, just as grandmother might have planned It. No foolish honeysuckle or climbing rose shields the porch, for the old ladies like to see who goes by, and if the street cars are behind time. Even the delivery of a load of coal Is an event. It is interesting to time the man and see If he is lazy. So this one-time store-keeping old soul withstood other invitations and went to the home. Her sister, one has heard, was indignant over it, for the sisters' husband was a rich man, and she would gladly have given board and lodging to her relative. But that house was clamorous with adolescence. The girls and their beaux kept lights burning late. The parlor was domin ated by youth, and the old lady said, "I refuse to be shut up like a dog." So she wrote her declaration of inde pendence and went to the "home." The chain of subsequent events made her very happy. Nephew Puts Ray of Sunshine • In 01(1 Lady's Heart. A favorite nephew refused to let his aunt be forgotten, and he has made it a point, at frequent intervals, to drive his car to the "home," and take her out for a spin, with great pomp and circumstance. This is more of a joy than any person out in the world can realize. It gives the old lady a dis tinction. Her Btatus is established. She hits the high places in life when her nephew comes for her, and she counts time by his coming. He is "My Nephew," of whom she can boast to all those without nephews. But the apex of this choice consid eration, which has made the old lady's heart fairly burst with pride, came in the amending of her scanty locks of hair. Many store-keeping men go bald-headed, and nobody thinks the worse of them, but for a womna, oh, my! Women who had no nephews could nevertheless possess good heads of hair, and the condition was hard to bear. Her nephew had never spoken of the subject, being a young man of kindly tact, but'he knew it was grinding, so he thought out a way. How lie Gave Her the Wig Her Heart So Craved. When one of his giggling sisters was about to be married, he wrote a subtly flattering note to his aunt, telling her that he wanted her to look "very beau tiful" at the wedding (which he in sisted she should attend), and he sent her, without any undue reference to it, a wonderful suit of silvery white hair, the very most expensive on the mar ket (because least plentiful), all made into a "transformation." Then when the day of the wedding came, he did not make the mistake of going for her himself, but sent a hired taxi, just as if she had been a society belle, with a great bouquet of pink roses on the seat. Her appearance was so improv ed that her own sister scarcely knew her, and in the excitement of the wedding proceedings she became speedily unconscious of the "trans formation" and was soon holding her head high. This little instance is one way or "taming" old people. It is often heard, in intimate family conversation, that Uncle So-and-So is so peevish. Ho criticises the children, and he is un tidy, and being deaf, he suspects other people are talking about him. Oh, he is absolutely "unlivable." Or the same traits may be mentioned of "Pa" or "Ma," who are "getting so childish." All of which could be very different if the rising generation would only re member that "Pa" and "Ma" and "Un cle" need a little "gentling," after tney come into a household. Hagenback, the animal trainer, says that when he takes in a new lion or elephant or other supposedly intelligent animal from the great outdoors, he always de votes several weeks to "gentling" be fore he tries to get any response from his "dumb" pupil. The old person coming into his son's or daughter's household gives up lib erty. The old people who went into the Altenheim of St. Louis, when that institution was built several years ago, gave up their feather beds. The new mattresses were so much better and more sanitary. But the old people cried, many of them, when they left the feather beds behind. They were "poor things, but their own." Old People Not So Fond of Other Old Folks. Old people, as a rule, are not very fond of other old people. If you have toothache yourself, you do not par ticularly relish some one else telling you about his toothache. Old men seek young wives and old women seek young husbands. There is a link to life in having youth about. Superficial friends at a St. Louis in firmary have bestowed much unneces sary sympathy because these old peo ple were removed from their home, where it was "so nice and quiet." But it is not the old people who are com plaining. They may be seen today, peering out Joyously into the world which they once knew from the gar den benches in the park around the institution. Old people are wisely brought to a place where they are diverted from No Cup More Bitter FROM an admiral of the United States Navy down, no one likes very well to be retired, willy nilly, at a certain age, even though a compensation goes with it. Worse than this it is to be "fired," without warning, so many a worker has been in civil life as he grew old. Worst of all it is to be pushed aside by members of one's own family, "all his faults observed, set in a note book, learned and conned by note, to cast into his teeth." their own troubles, by looking out at younger people and their acts. There is not so much in the "interior lite" as there would be if one were younger, the loquacity o£ old age is very an noying to an old person, if some one else is practicing it. Mrs. K. may have heard a hundred times the story from old Miss V. about the colonial grandeur of her father's early estate in the South; she would much rather tell how She herself danced at the ball given to the prince of Wales. Then old people find the failings of other old people rather trying. "Wife's so forgetful," grandpa will exclaim. If one is deaf one's self, it is doubly hard to have to shout because one's vis-a vis is deaf, also. In one "home" is a river captain and bis wife, and they two live together so happily, for this is one of the few in stitutions where married people are taken. She cultivates flowers in her window, and although It is a north window, she made a rose geranium grow on a trellis almost to the top of the window, in six months. This Is her husband's pride, to see these plants admired. But here, too, is the sorrow of not being in one's own home, for the poor lady sees the carelessness of the gardener in putting pots of plants on the edge of the porch, in cold, late winter, where the blasts bring death to all things unprotected. "And If I were to go out and put something around them, I'd get a scolding," she says. The "rule" It is, which is hardest on the old people in "homes." Where there are many, there must be regula tions. All must dine at the same time, and all must take luncheon at the same time. > T o More "Nightcaps" for Him When Bedtime Comes. No cups of hot milk between meals, no "nightcaps" to make grandpa sleep well. Stairways must be descended and mounted again, doors opened and closed with every meal. Only now and then is there a bright young spirit to hop about like a birdling, saving steps for the old folks. In this home there is no elevator in operation, and no chance exists of evading the steps up and down, so painfully taken three times a day. The Little Sisters of the Poor come nearest perhaps, to home care of the old people. Every "Little Sister" re gards her old people as one of many parents, and she looks for idiosyncra sies in order to humor them, rather than to resent them. The "Little Sisters" have the Insight to shield their aged "children." They do not tell strangers the names of those in their homes; forsaken old King Lears, deserted by their chil dren, have been grateful here for a home.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers