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Puttering and fussiness aren’t the significant thing; it is the spirit behind them.
All your puttering benefits somebody.
Sara Lou’s beautiful dark eyes had a roguish gleam that the family long ago learned to recognize. “That child’s up to some mischief, I know,” thought Eunice, smiling in spite of herself. Some of Sara Lou’s audacious doings were as delightful as her little girl escapades.
“I’ve come upon Aunt Esther’s portrait in this story,” said Sara Lou demurely. “Not a portrait exactly, but a good snapshot of one familiar pose. Listen! ‘Such women give all their time to puttering about a house, and no one in all the world is any better off for their puttering.’”
“I suppose you’ve just had a letter about her house cleaning.”
“I have. Not a detail was omitted. Not a delinquency of maid or weather. Of course I must reply with condolences, but I’m more sorry that auntie is possessed by such an exacting ideal than I am because her semiannual cleaning was delayed a whole fortnight beyond last year’s final date.” She folded her slim hands. “I’ve no intention of seeking to reform Aunt Esther, but you will never find me getting so wrought up over what is positively of no account.”
Eunice’s face was sober. “Aunt Esther’s well-ordered house means more to all of us than we realize. We shall miss something really precious when a time comes that we cannot relax our souls in the quiet of those big, old-fashioned rooms. Every keepsake she so tires herself in caring for has family associations for us as well as for her. Don’t we city livers find haven just in thinking sometimes of Aunt Esther’s front chamber and the big parlors, where everything looks almost as it did when we were six?”
“You’re right, and I’m ever so glad you said this before I wrote to auntie!" cried contrite Sara Lou. “It may rest her a weenty bit to know we have some realizing sense, as grandfather used to say. How stupid I’ve been not to discriminate better! There are women whom my quotation fits exactly, but Aunt Esther is not one of them. Puttering and fussiness aren’t the significant thing; it is the spirit behind them. Many people used to be the better off for her housewifery, and, as you say, some of us still on earth owe a good deal to it.”
Eunice nodded. “With gentlewomen of Aunt Esther’s day homemaking was the one great occupation; it embraced almost their whole conception of service. Their ideal was comfort, safety, and attractive surroundings for the immediate family, unfailing hospitality. A clean, well-ordered house was not the end in itself but a suitable home place where without notice they might welcome relatives and friends from a distance or neighbor folks. Naturally such a house became a demanding habit to them. Their characters were formed by what seem to us in the present circumstances needless rites of cleaning and polishing, but who can wonder at their still taking those things very seriously? Aunt Esther’s housewifery is an inspiration which I endeavor to profit by in its spirit and not its letter. A more liberal following of it would doubtless be for the strengthening of my character but not for the sweetening of it nor fair to Orlow and the children. Keeping house in Aunt Esther’s way would make me fretted, critical, petty, and shrill tempered, but I should be happy to feel that this is as truly a home as her house has been for a long half century.”
“It is, sister mine. Sometimes I’ve laughed at myself for so looking forward to a few minutes here after my day down town. Indeed, there’s all the charm of grandmother’s stately home, with modern improvements added. Orlow and the children feel this too, I’m sure. All your puttering benefits somebody.” “Flatterer!” laughed Eunice, but her eyes belied the tone.
ex Mary S. Stover (“Lockport, N.Y.”), “Who’s the Better for It?” in Christian Advocate (“General Organ of the Methodist Episcopal Church South” ) 85:45 (Nashville, Tenn.; November 7, 1924) : 1422 / 14
U Texas copy/scan (via google books) : link
6 August 2025