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"My foster father's recent death called me from a preparatory school back in the Middle West, just when I was getting along so well toward gaining an education. I decided not to give up. I am taking two correspondence courses, and mean to continue my studies here in my wagon. Also I am learning stenography and touch-typewriting.
She has been studying stenography in a business college in Cincinnati, and, in her latest letter to me, she wrote that she would finish in April. I'll just write her to come right here, and bring her typewriter along. She will need a vacation, and she can have it and do your work at the same time. Besides, I need to see Betty Jo. She hasn't been to visit me since before Judy came."
For a moment there was no answer, then Claire recognized Martha's voice, with what was, undeniably, a chuckle tucked away in its mellow depths, where no mere, literal child would be apt to discern it. "Stenography an' typewritin'!" "Are you a stenographer an' typewriter, mother? Honest?" "Well, you can take it from me, if I was it at all, I'd be it honest.
The poor working girl is apt to know a good deal more about her own affairs than the Fifth Avenue matron with an annual income of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. If I were doing it all over again and how I wish I could! I should insist on my girls being taught not only music and languages but cooking, sewing, household economy and stenography.
He sends his love and says I've just got to learn stenography and type-writing so that when he breaks more legs he can write to you daily. I believe he's forgotten the use of a pen except to sign checks with. His patience is wonderful, but he calls it being a good sportsman. I believe there is a great deal in that word.
Technical schools, with day and night classes, for teaching the trades to young men and women, four schools of engineering in different parts of the country, nine industrial schools for women only, where they can be trained to earn their living by sewing, dressmaking, weaving, millinery, embroidery, and other needlework, bookkeeping, typesetting, stenography, typewriting, photography, and other lines of industry, and an art school especially patronized by the king in connection with the art gallery at Christiania, where painting, drawing, and designing, modeling, decoration, and the art of architecture are taught.
It was hard, indeed, to think of her as in any sense related to them, at all suggestive of them. An Ann radiating life rather than sorrowing for it was an Ann she did not know just what to do with. And there was something disturbing in that rich glow of happiness. She did not believe that Ann's something somewhere could be stenography.
The girl with industrious and observant interests studies stenography and type-writing, moves to the vicinity of offices, but is then caught up in the life of a farmer-husband who shifts her center of activity to a farm in Idaho where she must devote herself to entirely different activities, form new associations, think in new terms, respond to new emotions, and adjust herself to her farmer-husband's personality.
Nancy took up stenography with gentle Miss Meader, too. The latter acted as the Madame's secretary, so she had practical use for shorthand. She and Nancy corresponded daily in the "pothooks," as Jennie Bruce called the stenographic signs. Nevertheless, Nancy managed to cram into her waking hours an immense amount of fun as well as lessons.
She learned not only stenography and typewriting but telegraphy. There is a private apparatus in their Newport home for her father's confidential work, and this she manipulates with the skill of a professional.
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