The Advance Reporter
2 June 1911
NO OCCUPATION

From the census blanks we learn,
That the one who runs the churn,
Milks the cows, feeds the hens,
Nails the pickets on the fence;
And the one who makes the bread
And each day makes up the bed,
And that patches our breeches,
In our shirt takes a few stitches,
Skims the milk and feeds the calves,
Makes cough syrup and our salves,
Does the cooking, sets our tables,
Sings us songs and tells us fables,
Makes the dresses, darns the socks,
Does the washing, winds the clock
Spanks the kids, rocks the baby,
Knitting at the same time maybe,
Haying time will help at mowing.
And at county fair is showing
Just as proud as you please,
Samples of her home-made cheese,
Who will gather up the eggs,
Brace the wobbly table legs.
Sweep and dust, scrub the floor,
Nail the hinges on the door,
Dig and hoe and weed the garden,
Of the pantry act as warden,
Work the mottos on the wall,
Puts up fruit for each and all.
Plant and water all the flowers,
Tie up vines in shady bowers.
See that nothing pines or wilts,
Makes carpets and crazy quilts.
Puts the moth-balls in our clothes,
Dresses up some new scare-crows.
Irons out our Sunday shirt,
Cares for chicks from their birth,
And keeps all of them a-living,
Raises turkeys for Thanksgiving,
And in sewing circles sews
Clothes heathens wear as beaus.
Carries slop down to the pig,
And makes laprobes for the rig.
Propping the fence posts leaning,
Never misses the house-cleaning.
Cuts the grass from off the lawn,
Keeps it green, puts water on.
Washes windows, fills the lamps,
Cures us of our colds and cramps.
Sets the trap to catch the mouse,
White-washes the chicken-house.
Kills the bugs with poison vapor,
Catches flies on "stick-up" paper.
In the morning builds the fire,
Ties the rake up with a wire.
Carries water from the well
Half the things I couldn't tell.
And whenever she is stopping,
Always will be found shopping.
And will try without fail,
To attend a bargain sale.
When she tries to get a vote,
(From the census blanks I quote)
That the housewives of our nation
Simply have "no occupation."

Gustave Edlund.