1090 
RURAL NEW-YORKER 
the 
The “ Overall Dress” 
August 11 issue of The It. 
In 
N.-Y. is an illustration of a pattern called 
the “overall dress,” and I wish to call 
the attention of farm women to this com¬ 
fortable and sen.sible garment. 
Ever since my advent into farm life, 
about eight years, a suitable dress has 
been an ever-recurring problem. I start¬ 
ed in wearing skirts, my badge of sex, but 
The Overall Dress 
torn bands and dabbled hems soon taught 
me how undesirable skirts were for real 
outdoor work; particularly before “The 
Man” became a permanent fixture* on 
the place. In certain -work, sucli, for 
instance, as leading a horse, or following 
a cultivator, they were positively danger¬ 
ous to life and limb; in other work, such 
as hoeing, they were dangerous to the 
life of plants, as skirts can wipe out 
many tender shoots in a short time. So 
I adopted a man’s uniform, regular over¬ 
alls and shirt, and the freedom was en¬ 
joyable, although I did not find the dress 
extra comfortable, the straps of tlie over¬ 
alls either binding tlie shoulders or slip¬ 
ping down from the same. 
When “The Mjin” came for good. I 
went back to skirts again. About this 
time we drifted into a small greenhouse 
business, selling seedling plants, ami as 
the real farm work progressed the gn-oii- 
hou.se w’ork fell to my lot. This busine.ss 
bi’ought strangers to the place at any 
hour of the day, and again the problem 
of a working dress that would be suitable 
and at the same time look respectable, 
came to the front. Working in the moist 
soil could not help but dirty clothes; the 
use of the hose would dampen them. I 
tried a soiled gown, with a clean, fresh, 
all-over apron to be put on whenever I 
heard anyone coming, but it took some 
time to get into the apron, and I was 
more often caught soiled than fresh. Then 
tried :i fresh dress and a questionable 
apron, which was to be hastily snatched 
off, but the same result followed. 
This question of a suitable dress for 
women who work outdooi’S came up dur¬ 
ing a recent visit of a sister to the farm. 
She frequently accompanies her husband 
on his trips up country among the farm¬ 
ers. Said my sister: “It makes me sor¬ 
ry to see the way some of these farm 
women look when they come to sjieak to 
me. The most of them wear their old 
clothes doing the farm woi’k, and they 
are dirty, drabbled and torn, and, worst 
of all, are conscious of the fact, for they 
are neatness personified' and it humili¬ 
ates them to look so untidy.” Then came 
a long conference, in which the whole 
subject w’as thrashed out. 
On her next visit she brought this 
“overall dress,” which I have moved into, 
and I shall never be able to express the 
comfort and pleasure it has been to me. 
It is made of khaki, rather expensive, 50 
cents a yard, but it wall wear like Iron, as 
a few near accidents with outstanding 
nails, etc., have already testified. It is 
just the color of the soil, and so does not 
look dirty, and wlu'u it is dirty can be 
quickly washed, dried and slippe<l into 
again without ironing. Mine is made with 
elbow sleeves, fastened with a loose band, 
and a low neck without a collar, as when 
the wind blows I find a flapping collar 
an added irritation. I find it more com¬ 
fortable to draw the elastic up to just 
below the knee, than at the ankle, as the 
pattern shows, as there is less play of the 
muscles at that point, and so the elastic 
does not bind so much when bending over. 
The two big i)ockets, placed at the “just 
right” place, are invaluable. Among 
other things in my i)ockets are at least 
two haudkerc-hiefs, one to use, the other 
to show, so if in wiping my “fevered 
brow” I also wipe some very rich soil 
onto one handkerchief. I have a clean one 
handy, if anyone should come, and I have 
to use it. 
Another thing I have woiked out, and 
that is shoes. I u.sed to think any old 
thing was good enough for the farm, 
with the result that I always had tired, 
cramped feet, and if one’s feet are tired 
one’s body is tired. This year I started 
in wearing the cheap canvas-top rubber- 
soled sneaks boys wear, without heels, 
and, ftu* the first time, demonstrated foot 
comfort, (let them big, a couple of sizes 
liirger thiin the dress shoe is none too 
much, jiud give the feet a chance to 
l)reathe and do their work under natural 
conditions. 'There is ,a joy of which I 
am sensil)le, even now, when I have be¬ 
come us(‘d to it, of the fi*eedom of bones 
and muscles in my feet, when I take a 
new })osirion, that I would not give up 
for the most f;ishion:ible, e.vpensive i)air 
of shoes that could be given me. 
’I’his. is my story up to date. Sans 
tight shoes, sans corsets, sans skirts, 
clothed in my brown canvas shoes, my 
brown wiirk uniform, and a shade hat, I 
can greet anvum* who comes, feeling I 
am suitably, sensibly and respectably 
garbed for the work I have chosen to do. 
When I am doing housework a large 
kitchen apron protects my uniform from 
the indoor soil, and going upstairs is a 
j)h‘asure without skirts in the way. Try 
if- JtAIlEL KENNON. 
available place for the refrigerator was 
in a hot wood shed room just outside 
the kitchen door. This location was con¬ 
venient as a matter of step-saving, and 
gave an opportunity to dispose of the 
waste water from the ice by simply 
boring a hole through the woodshed 
floor. But we thought that the ice 
would melt so rapidly there during the 
long Summer afternoons that we post¬ 
poned getting any until very warm 
weather seemed to make it imperative. 
Then we w’ere agreeably surprised. 
We long ago learned that by covering 
the ice in the refrigerator with several 
thicknesses of newspaper its existence in 
a solid state could be greatly prolonged. 
We then added to the newspaper covering 
several folds of a soft, clean blanket and 
thought that we had about reached the 
maximum in that form of economy. The 
spirit of the times, plus the hot wood¬ 
shed. made it necessary that we should 
go a step further in conservation, how¬ 
ever. and we added to the direct covering 
of the ice a piece of old carpet and an 
f)ld overcoat placed over the top of the 
refrigerator. 
The result was all that could have 
been hoped foi*. The iceman looked 
puzzled when he came to rene\v the sup¬ 
ply of ice, but we didn’t enlighten him 
as to the meaning of the blanket drying 
on the line or the wet newspapers on 
the floor. No one loves the iceman. 
Our refrigerator, opening at the top, 
holds perhaps a hundred pounds of ice, 
and this lasts from four to five days. 
We pay 40 cents per hundred for ice and 
our bill during the hottest weather is 
about GO cents per week. Another point 
worth observing is to avoid opening the 
refrigerator doors moi*e often than 
necessary. After clearing the table of 
all the left-overs that should be hoover- 
ized. get them together before placing 
them in the refrigerator and make one 
opening of the refrigerator doors suffice 
for all. M. n. D. 
Saving the Ice 
The la'inarks of “A F.'irmer’s Wife on 
Food (’onsc'i'vation” in a recent i.ssue of 
Y.-Y. led nn* to think that i)er- 
help her to conserve ice also. 
The 
ha])s 
R. 
I can 
National Uniform for Housewives 
One of our resnlers sends us a news- 
pai»er picture showing the housewife’s 
dress approved by the Woman’s Commit¬ 
tee of the Council of National Defense, 
the Food Administration, and other na¬ 
tional agencies working for the conser¬ 
vation of resources during the present 
time of stress. There have been many 
attempts to standardize woman’s dress, 
but old-time sumptuary laws, which were 
usually intended to express class distinc¬ 
tions. wmre very different from present 
effoi’ts to eliminate waste and increase 
efficiency. The dress pictured i.s, as our 
correspondent says, really what is sold 
Making Him Useful on Washing Day 
and .save a jiart of that 70 cents that 
'•he jiays weekly to the ice man. A 
large refrigerator, where ice can be had. 
is certainly a wonderful help in the con¬ 
servation of food, and, what is equally 
important, conserves steps up and down 
the cellar stairs also. But ice is expen- 
.'<i\e when it must be bought in small 
chunks from the iceman, and any method 
that will prolong its energy is wmrth 
knowing. 
^ For a number of years our refrigerator 
had stood in a cool dairy room on the 
north side of the 'hou.se, and ice in it 
had melt<'d slowly. Upon our i*emoval to 
the new home we found that the onlv 
readymade in all large drygoods stores as 
a bungalo-w' apron. It is a loo.se, one- 
piece wrapper, opening all the way down 
the front. The belt, attached to the 
front panel, buttons in the back, giving 
the dress a trim fit. The official dress 
has collar and deep cuffs, of white pique, 
and there is -a close high cap, also of 
white pique, which in the picture shows 
the Food Administration’s badge in front, 
a shield surrounded by ears of wheat. 
The great advantage of the dress is the 
ease with which it may be put on and 
off; the housekeeper may slip off a soiled 
garment, and replace it with a clean one 
as quickly as she changes an apron, and 
September l.'>, T.'l , 
there are no gathers to pull out. Vde 
have a pattern of this bungalow iiprmi. 
No. 8004, price 10 cents, but it does imt 
have the collar shown in the picture. M'e 
may regard this dress as the patriotic 
American woman’s national uniform, and 
realize that its wearers intend to work 
for their country in the home just as the 
men in uniform are working :ind fighting 
on land and sea. 
Women and Silo Filling 
For several days i)ast the musical hum 
of the corn-haiwester has been heard cut¬ 
ting down the fields of corn, a deeper tone 
than the mowing maehme, suggesting the 
voice of a woman compared to that of a 
girl, and reminding one of the maturing 
year. The telephone rings oftener, as 
men are arranging for help, and women 
wi.sh to know just what day the silage 
cutter will come. Finally the news comes, 
“They will be at your place tomorrow,” 
and lueparations begin in earnest. When 
mother says,^ “Now, Mary, you go to the 
granaiy and get six cups of beaus and 
look them over,” we kinvw the battle is on 
against the hunger of a gang of hard- 
woilii.'g men. 
Bread and cookies, doughnuts and pies 
and cake, basins of beans and a large 
roast of meiit are made ready. In the 
morning the big engine comes spank¬ 
spanking up the road, drawing the silage 
cutter and blower; the men wTIi teams 
and wagons begin to arrive: and the' 
women, though catching the contagion of 
excitement and working harder than ever, 
feel as if a huge shad(^w h;id crossed their 
pathway, not to be liftt'd until the vor¬ 
acious gang is on the road again. 
The vegetables are prepared, the table 
lengthened out to its full 12 fe('t, and set 
for l.l or IG men. Sometimes, almost 
at the last minute, it is discovered with 
horror that the year’s mortality among 
teacups has bi'cn greater than was sus¬ 
pected, and a hurried rush i.s made to the 
neighbors. 
Towels and wash dishes, warm water 
and soap are placed where si'veral can 
wash at once, and the men are called to 
dinner. In an astonishingly short time 
they leave devastation in their wake, like 
a swarm of gra.s.shoppers. 
After the huge pile of dishes is 
washed .and the kitchen tidied up, the 
process of food preparation beg'ns again. 
So long as the .silage cutter keeps up its 
steady buzz and the teams are moving 
back and forth with their loads of corn 
from the field, the wmmen folk do not 
mind the work, but w'hen breakdown 
after breakdowm occurs, and the men sit 
around idly waiting until repairs are 
made, then the women begin to feel that 
there is an unfair divi.sion of labor, and 
that the owmer of the outfit owes it to his 
patrons to have his machinery in as 
nearly perfect wmrkiug order as be can 
possibly make it. 
Finally the heads and shoulders of the 
trampers appear above the top of the silo- 
the last loads are heaped on. and the 
corn crop is disnosed of. The long blow¬ 
pipe is taken down, the wmgons depart, 
and the women clean up in thankfulness, 
for the shadow has lifted as the machiuer\ 
leaves for the next place. 
MBS. A. G. DOBENi 
