pation of woman. Ialma, as you may know, is a stocking-weaver. Her artistic pursuit is photography, in which she shows no mean skill. You must have her show you her workroom, and some specimens of her work.
"Is each allowed to choose his artistic employment?"
I asked.
"Yes: that is left entirely to the taste of the individual concerned. Thus, Ulmene from childhood showed an unusual aptitude for music. You have heard her play. Urged on by the impulse of the moment, she poured out that flood of harmony. By a device on the principle of the phonograph, every note was correctly recorded, so that she is enabled at leisure to correct and improve what was poured out in a moment of inspiration. Being in no haste to publish, she will probably spend a year in polishing that first impulsive effort."
"Reva Diotha," I could not refrain from inquiring,—"what are her employments?"
"Reva," said Utis, "is a peculiar girl, with somewhat boyish tastes. She passes her early morning-hours in brass-turning. Her work is of wonderful finish, and I have often been glad of her assistance in my specialty. The afternoon she devotes to the artistic chasing of the clasps for those silken girdles,—the most expensive article of feminine attire."
"Girls are permitted, then, to follow such masculine employments as brass-turning?" said I.
"Boys and girls have an equal right to enter any employment. By tacit consent, however, weaving has been conceded to woman as being neat, and demanding no
