as have a headache to-morrow morning, without the English Government being sorry about it? Every industry in the land has received its envelope, black-lettered, "On His Majesty's Business" and inside this note: "Care on the part of employers to secure the welfare of women brought in to take the place of men in the present emergency will greatly increase the probability of their employment proving successful." A nation, you see, is interested in Mrs. Black's success. "Who works fights," announced the Government when it invited Mrs. Black into industry. The badge, a triangle of brass, that she wears on the front of her khaki tunic, is inscribed "On War Service." The French women in the munitions factories wear on their left sleeve an armlet with an embroidered insignia, a bursting bomb, which says the same thing.
Mrs. Black, I believe as a matter of fact, did have a headache one morning. And her output of munitions fell off. Now that must not happen. For the lack of the shells, you know, a battle might be lost. The headache was investigated by the Factory Inspector. And the Government made a great discovery, I think we may say as important to us, to every woman who works, as was Watt's discovery of the principle of the steam-engine that day he watched the tea-kettle. This was what the factory-inspector found out: Last night after Mrs. Black left the shop, there was the dinner to cook, and it was eight o'clock before she could get it ready. Then, of course, there were the dishes to wash.
