THE FAIRY'S ORIGIN.
"Die Eifersucht ist eine Leidenschaft der mit Eifer sucht muss Leiden
schaffen."--_German Proverb._
Very many years ago, in a valley a few miles from the coast, there stood
a French château, beautifully situated in a handsome park near the
Norman village of Carolles. The rich woodland scenery, the green
pastures with their large wild fences now laden with wild roses; the
shady lanes, whose banks will soon be covered with the long, bright
green fronds of the hartstongue, and the delicate drooping trichomanes;
the fine timber, and the picturesque farmhouses with their thatched
roofs nestling in the valleys--all tend to give a home-like English air
to the scenery of Normandy. And the district in which the Château de
Thorens stands possesses all these attractions for an English eye. Not
that any English people lived in the château; the De Thorens were
French, or rather Norman, to the backbone, descended from the great
duke, and proud as Lucifer of their birth. Pride and poverty are
generally supposed to go together; and though poor is perhaps hardly the
word to apply to people who could afford to live in the ease and luxury
which prevailed at Château de Thorens, yet for their rank the De Thorens
were not rich, and, consequently, after the fashion of many French
families, there were three generations of them now all living under the
ancestral roof.
First there was the old baroness, a picturesque old lady with very white
hair and piercing black eyes, with whom we have very little to do; then
there was her eldest son, the present baron, for his father had been
dead some years, and his beautiful young wife, whom he was so
passionately fond of that he was jealous--dreadfully jealous--of her
love for her baby, a little girl a few months old; and, lastly, there
were the baron's three younger brothers, who with Père Yvon, the
chaplain, made up the family party. The two younger brothers were mere
boys, still under Père Yvon's charge, for he acted as tutor to them as
well as chaplain; but Léon de Thorens was a young man of
five-and-twenty, only a year or two younger than the baron. He was a
fine, handsome man, tall and thin, with his mother's fine black eyes and
small well-cut nose and mouth. He was of a bold, reckless nature, full
of animal spirits, the very life of the house when he was at home, which
was seldom, as he owned a yacht, in which he spent a great deal of his
time. He was his mother's favourite son, and both he and she had often
privately regretted that he was not the eldest.
The baron was smaller and fairer than Léon, and not so handsome, though
there was a strong family likeness between the brothers. He was of a
quieter disposition, and his restlessness took an intellectual rather
than a physical form, his wanderings being confined to the shelves of
the valuable library which the château boasted, instead of extending
over the seas on which Léon spent so much of his time. The baron's
studious nature had endeared him very much to Père Yvon, with whom he
was a prime favourite, and who had never shown him any of the severity
of which the other brothers often complained, but, on the contrary, had
erred on the opposite side with the baron, whose wishes had never been
crossed in any way, and who had grown up to think himself the one
important person in the world to whom the convenience of everyone else
must be sacrificed.
For the first year of their married life the pretty baroness had
contributed as much as Père Yvon to spoil her husband, whose every whim
she had humoured until her baby was born, and then, much to his
astonishment, the baron found that his beautiful, gentle wife had a will
of her own, and, what was still worse in his eyes, a large place in her
heart for someone else besides himself, and although that someone else
was only his infant daughter, the baron was jealous.
In vain had he urged that the baby should be sent away to some peasant
to nurse until it was a year or two old, as he and all his brothers had
been, after a very common custom in French families. No, the baroness
would not hear of such a thing; she could not live without her baby, and
every moment she could spare she spent by its cradle. Indeed, so
infatuated was she with her new possession, whose every movement was a
delight to her, that she did not notice the baron became daily more and
more morose, and that an ominous frown had settled on his fine forehead,
while his mouth was closed with a determination that boded ill for his
wife and daughter. But the baroness lived so much in her child that she
did not observe the change in her husband; and as he never allowed the
baby to be brought into his presence, the baroness saw but little of him
except at meals, when all the others were present, and Léon's wild
spirits covered his brother's depression and silence.
At last, one fine June morning, matters reached a climax, when the
family sat down to their one o'clock _déjeuner_. The baroness was late;
the first course was finished, and still she did not appear.
"Where is Mathilde, Arnaut?" asked the old baroness.
"I don't know," said the baron, sulkily.
"I do," said Léon; "she is worshipping at the shrine of that precious
baby of yours, Arnaut. Why on earth don't you send it away till it is
old enough to amuse us?"
"Go and tell Madame la Baronne the soup is already finished," said the
baron to a servant at his elbow; but he vouchsafed no further answer.
"I think Arnaut has suggested that the baby should be sent away, but
Mathilde objects," remarked the old baroness.
"Send it away without asking her, then. Give her a pug instead; it will
be much more amusing, and not half the trouble the baby is," said Léon.
Here the servant returned to say madame would take her _déjeuner_ in the
nursery, as the nurse was out and she could not leave the baby.
"Really, Mathilde is too absurd, when there are at least three or four
other servants in the house who could look after the baby as well as the
nurse," said the old baroness, helping herself to some omelette.
"She is mad," muttered the baron, angrily.
"Quite, all women are; there can be no doubt about that. Look here,
Arnaut, it is quite clear if you don't send that infant away, you might
just as well live _en garçon_, like me, as I foresee you won't have much
of Mathilde's society now," said Léon.
"It does not require much foresight to predict that," said the baron,
bitterly.
"Well, if Mathilde won't send it away, just hand it over to me the next
time I take a cruise, which will be as soon as ever there is wind enough
to fill my sails, and I'll place the child somewhere where there is no
fear of Mathilde getting it again till it is of a reasonable age," said
Léon.
The idea of handing the baby over to the tender mercies of Léon struck
them all as so comic that a general laugh, in which all but the baron
joined, greeted this speech, which was forgotten as soon as it was
uttered by the speaker.
A few days after Léon announced that he was going on board his yacht
that evening; a south wind was blowing, and he should take a cruise up
the Channel. Would the baron go with him? They were sure to have fine
weather, and it would be delightful at sea in this heat. The baron
declined the invitation, as he was a wretched sailor; but that evening,
when he and Léon were smoking after dinner, he said, suddenly, "Where
are you going, Léon?"
"I don't know; it depends on the wind. I may run over to England, or I
may only go to the Channel Isles. I shall see."
"Shall you touch anywhere?"
"Oh, yes, I shall go ashore; I shan't take provisions for more than a
week. Why?"
The baron looked round the verandah in which they were sitting to make
sure that they were alone, and having satisfied himself of this he leant
forward and said, in a half-whisper, "Tiens, Léon! Will you help me? I
am determined to stand it no longer; it is wearing my life out; I have
not a moment's peace. If I don't get rid of it I believe I shall go
mad."
"What is it you are talking of? I'll help you if I can, but what is
wearing your life out?" said Léon.
[Illustration: THE BARONESS.]
"The baby, of course," said the baron.
"The baby! Well, but what do you want me to do with that! I can't kill
it, you know."
"Of course not, but you said in joke the other day you would take it
with you on one of your trips, and put it out to nurse. I wish to
heaven, Léon, you'd do it in reality. It is no use my sending it to
anyone near here; Mathilde would go after it the next day. My only
chance is to send it somewhere where it will be safe, of course, and
well looked after, but where Mathilde can't go after it, and as she
would go to the end of the world for it if she knew where it was, it
must go where she can't find it; she must not know where it is. No one,
indeed, need know but you, for as far as I am concerned the less I know
about it at present the better; it has spoilt all my happiness. Mathilde
is so wrapped up in that child she does not care a fig for me now; in
fact, I rarely see her. If you can only put that infant safely out of
our way for a year or two, I'll never forget it, Léon."
"Are you in real sober earnest, Arnaut?" asked Léon, who, in his
astonishment, had risen to his feet, and was puffing away vigorously at
his cigar.
"Of course I am. I am willing to pay handsomely for it, and I shall
depend upon you putting it where it will be well taken care of. As for
all the rest, I leave it to you to take it where you like--Australia if
you wish, only don't tell me where it is, or I might cut my own throat
by telling Mathilde if she makes a great scene, as she will when it is
gone. Will you do it, Léon?"
"Whew!" whistled Léon. "I don't care for the work, for if anything
should happen to the child Mathilde would never forgive me nor you
either. However, if you insist, I think I could manage it, but as I am
going to start in two or three hours, there is not much time. I must go
down to the yacht and speak to my men first. If I may tell them I am
taking the child by your express wish I could manage it, I think. The
next difficulty is where to take it, but I have an idea about that, so
I'll be off now, and see what I can arrange. I shall ride, so I shall be
back in an hour."
"Tell them anything you like, except not to let anyone know where you
leave the child," replied the baron, as Léon started on an errand which,
in spite of his protest to the contrary, was thoroughly after his own
heart; indeed, any mad freak such as this was quite in his line.
Among his crew he had an English sailor who acted as carpenter, and, as
Léon often said, was worth two or three French sailors in a gale or an
emergency. He knew the Channel, too, as well as a pilot, and, indeed
often acted in that capacity; he was an honest, trustworthy man--at
least, so Léon thought; and as he rode over the hills to Carolles, he
decided to take this man into his confidence, and see if he could help
him; it was possible this Englishman knew of some of his own
countrywomen who would undertake the charge of the child.
Accordingly, when he reached his yacht, Léon called for John Smith, and
had a long conversation with him in English, which he spoke fairly well,
the result of which was the carpenter, after a little thought, declared
he knew of a shepherd and his wife in Sussex who, he felt sure, would
undertake the charge of the child; his only fear was that they might
have some scruples about keeping the matter a secret, and might want to
know who the child was; but if Léon would leave this to him to arrange,
he could, he thought, manage it so that the shepherd should have no idea
to whom the child belonged, nor why it was put into his care.
"Where does this good man live?" asked Léon.
"About four or five miles from Brighton, sir. The wind is favourable; we
might run across in twenty-four hours or less if it lasts, and I think
it will; we shall have the tide with us going out if we start at ten
to-night," said the carpenter.
"Well, that is settled. Now the next point is, who is to take care of it
on board? It must be fed; who of our men understands babies best?"
"I can't undertake that, sir, but there's Pierre Legros, he has half a
dozen of his own, and when he is at home looks after them all I believe;
he ought to know all about it."
"Call Pierre, then."
Pierre Legros was accordingly called, and, on hearing what was required
of him, professed with pride his ability to act as nurse during the
voyage; and having commissioned him to lay in a stock of food for the
baby, about which Léon's ideas were exceedingly vague, Léon rode back to
the château.
The baron was on the lookout for him, and was delighted to hear all was
arranged for the baby's removal.
"I have not been idle since you have been gone. Luckily Mathilde has a
headache, so I have sent her to bed, and I sat with her till she was
asleep. My next care was to get rid of the nurse, so I have packed her
off to Brécy with one of the other servants for some medicine for
Mathilde, and the coast is clear to the nursery now. There is only one
of the housemaids with the baby, and when you are ready to start you
must lose something and require her to find it while I secure the child.
Lastly, I ordered the dogcart, and said I would drive you."
"But how about the child?" interrupted Léon.
"I am coming to that. Just as we are going to start, you must lose a
stick or a coat. I'll offer to go back for it, and meet you at the side
door; there is a staircase leading to the nursery close to it, down
which I shall come with the baby after I have sent the housemaid who is
guarding it to look for your stick. We shall be off and the baby on
board before it is missed, for the girl is sure to stay gossiping with
the other servants when we are off."
"Well, I hope you'll succeed, but I confess I think this is the most
difficult part of the affair. However, there is no time to lose; you had
better order the dogcart at once, while I go and say good-bye to mother
and the boys. We must be off in twenty minutes," replied Léon.
Half an hour later the brothers were seated in the dogcart, while the
old baroness, with a shawl thrown round her head, stood on the steps
under the portico to catch the last glimpse of her handsome Léon, with
her two younger boys by her side, and Père Yvon and some of the servants
in the background. The groom had just let go of the horse's bridle when
Léon exclaimed--
"Wait a minute! I have forgotten my Malacca cane. I lent it to you the
other day, Arnaut. I must have it. Where shall I find it?"
"So you did. Here, one of you boys, run into my--but no, you'll wake
Mathilde, I'll go myself. Here, Léon, take the reins, and drive round to
the side door; I'll meet you there," said the baron, descending from the
dogcart, and running into the house.
(_To be continued._)
FASHIONABLE EMBROIDERY.
The fancy embroidery of the present day is of such varied character and
make that all would-be workers will find among the diversities of stitch
and material some description that suits their particular need and
ingenuity.
A few years ago one embroidery alone claimed attention. This was the
celebrated crewel work, of which there is no fault to be found in the
execution and design of its higher grades, but which, like all fancy
work that becomes the rage and is cheapened and multiplied without any
regard to reason, degenerated to the most impossible designs and the
worst execution attainable. Thus crewel work passed away, and though the
best kinds are still to be met with, it is really superseded in modern
drawing-rooms by embroideries all originating in the present desire
after Oriental colouring and design, but of kinds distinctly
characteristic and individual.
The work known as Leek embroidery recommends itself in many ways, it
being very reasonable in price, easily executed, and extremely rich and
handsome when finished. The foundation is Tussore silk, specially made
with the pattern to be embroidered upon it printed upon the foundation,
during its manufacture, and therefore indelible. The colouring of the
foundation is either cream, straw, pink, blue, green, or terra-cotta,
and the pattern is not printed in outline only, but filled up with
indications guiding the arrangement for the centres of flowers, veins of
leaves, and other distinguishing marks. To work the embroidery it is
necessary to line the Tussore with fine unbleached muslin, and to work
with Tussore silk and Japanese gold thread. The Tussore silk costs 1d.
the skein, and is dyed in every shade of Oriental colouring. Three to
four shades of a colour are used to work in a flower, and two shades of
green for the leaves. The stitch is crewel-stitch worked very close. No
shading about each leaf is necessary, but different greens are used for
different leaves, and thus a variety of colouring is attained without
trouble. Every part of the pattern, the bordering included, is worked,
and only the foundation left, showing where it forms the background to
the design. The gold thread is laid on as the finishing touch. It is
placed round all the chief parts of the design, and sewn on as an edging
with a couching stitch; that is to say, the gold thread is held tightly
stretched in its position with the left hand, while a stitch brought
from the back of the material is passed over it and put down to the back
again with the right hand. Lines of gold are used to mark out the border
pattern, and are fastened down with the couching stitch. When sewing on
the gold it is very important to keep it tightly stretched, as if put on
loosely it is not effective. If the work is at all puckered, iron it
with a warm but not hot iron on the wrong side before laying down the
gold thread. Leek embroidery is sold by the yard in strips, varying from
one inch to twelve inches in width, and costing from 6d. to 2s. the
yard. These strips are used for mantelpiece borders, table borders,
chair backs, and curtain bands, according to their width. They look best
mounted upon plush or velveteen, but are often mounted upon Liberty's
Oriental silks, or made up as perfectly plain bands. When used for chair
backs or for hanging firescreens the background should be handsome, and
either ruby or dark blue in colour, and the work arranged either
straight down its centre or crossing it in a number of diagonal lines.
This manner of making up is newer and more effective than merely laying
it on as an edging. Bands of unmounted Leek embroidery, simply lined
with twill, are much used for looping up summer curtains, and give
richness to the soft, creamy materials now employed for curtains.
As dress trimmings Leek embroidery is good, the wide bands making a
waistcoat front and the narrow the cuff trimmings. To a velveteen winter
dress a waistcoat and cuffs so made are an admirable finish as long as
the embroidery is kept subdued by rich colours, and the gold carefully
put on, while for dinner dresses a broad panel of embroidery is carried
down the skirt, and the waistcoat cut low, and no trimming required for
the sleeves.
Oriental embroidery cannot be made up in so many different ways as Leek
embroidery, but it is quite new, and aims at reproducing early Eastern
designs. The foundation material is surah silk, the silk sold in large
squares as Liberty's handkerchief being correct in colouring and
texture. Upon this foundation the patterns, which all consist of single
petalled flowers resembling single dahlias, sunflowers, or
chrysanthemums, are worked with Oriental silk, which are silks of a
thick make, but very soft and with a gloss on them similar to the gloss
on floss silk. The leaves surrounding the flowers are of the shape of
the jessamine, and to these are added tendrils and queer-looking bunches
of seed-vessels.
There is little variety in the design, as the embroidery is entirely
executed in one stitch (that of a close herringbone), but there is great
variety and great scope for good shading in the colouring. Oriental
silks are all dyed in the shades of blues, yellow pinks, terra-cotta
reds, and brilliant yellows, to be seen in Eastern embroideries worked
before the introduction of aniline dyes, and the consequent lapse into
Imperial purples and magentas and royal blues.
By a judicious use of good colours the same design can be so repeated as
to look entirely different. Thus, a spray of flowers worked upon an
orange-red ground, with cream, yellow, pink and pale blue colours, will
be quite distinct from the same spray laid upon sea-green silk, and
coloured with deep orange-reds and blues running from sky into navy
blue.
As before mentioned, the only stitch used is herringboning, and the only
flowers single petalled ones; but the herringboning is done so closely
together that it looks like an interwoven stitch of double crossings,
and the flowers are all worked in their centres in a different silk to
that used on their tips, and therefore resemble double petalled flowers.
The tips of each petal are wider than the commencement, and the
herringboning is not taken along as a wide line of equal width, but as a
curved line running small, and widening out again several times if the
petal or seed-vessel is a long one. Each petal is worked separately, and
the silk is never dragged or drawn tightly, but is allowed to lie easily
over the foundation, and rather loosely, although the stitches follow
each other so closely that nothing of the foundation can be seen where
they are laid. The stems, long leaves, and large branches are worked as
closely as the petals in herringbone, but tendrils and sprays are more
opened out, and are given the look of single coral stitch as a variety.
When shading a flower select two colours that are distinct in tone but
not jarring in their contrast; thus, cream-white used for the outer
petals can be finished with pale blue, yellow pink, pure orange, or pale
yellow for its centre petals; scarlet red outside petals with black
inner petals, bright blue outside petals with lemon yellow or
terra-cotta red inside petals, and every one of these colours are
allowable when working bunches of flowers scattered over the whole of a
five o'clock tea-cloth or fireplace curtains.
The embroidery is used for table-cloths, mantel borders, and curtain
brackets, knitting bags, handkerchief cases, and as a trimming to
evening dresses. In all cases it requires a silk lining, and should be
worked with a muslin lining beneath it. Embroidering Breton
handkerchiefs is not a new description of fancy work, but it is still in
vogue; and when a lady has had sufficient patience to successfully
accomplish the feat of covering every portion of the handkerchief with
thick filoselle work, there is no doubt that she has produced a piece of
embroidery not only handsome and durable, but that will justly hand her
name down to posterity as a real worker, and not one who takes up the
whim of the hour and throws it on one side as soon as it bores her. The
squares made of these embroidered handkerchiefs are shown more
effectually when they are lined with quilted silk and used as
banner-screens than when they are bordered with wide plush and used as
table-cloths. The pattern in the latter case is never seen as a whole,
and the beauty of the work is often marred by water from flower vases
spilt over it, or wet teacups and saucers put down on it. The small
screens now so fashionable make another admirable place for mounting
Breton work. These screens are made of two compartments only, in height
about 4½ feet. To each panel, 2½ feet from the ground, a ledge
that can be put up or down is fixed, and that is used for holding a book
or a teacup. The panel below this ledge is merely filled with a little
curtain made of coloured Oriental silk, and arranged in very full folds.
The panel above the ledge, that is fully displayed to every eye, is
filled with the embroidery stretched quite tightly across it and
displayed to its full advantage. The back of the embroidery is
concealed with a satin or silk matching the little curtain beneath. Two
Breton handkerchiefs are required, one for each division, but they
should not be selected both of the same design. The little screens are
made of oak, mahogany, and ebonised wood. They are a simple framework,
an inch and a half square, and any working carpenter would make them to
order.
Breton embroidery is too laborious for many people, and those whose time
is much occupied with household matters, and who cannot devote much of
it to the task of making their drawing-rooms pretty, we recommend to try
crazy patchwork in its place. We have lately seen this easy work carried
out most successfully, and used as mantel and table borders, covers for
footstools, and as the centres of small table-cloths. The work is one of
the least expensive that can be tried, and can be put down without
derangement of effect at any moment (a great point in its favour where
interruptions are frequent). Before commencing any piece of it, it is
better to accumulate all the oddments of ribbons, plush, velvet, silk,
and satin lying in the piece-drawer from dress trimmings or sent as
patterns from shops. The more plush and velvet obtainable, the greater
the effect produced, while the colouring should be of a vivid tone, but
excluding the bright aniline dyes already once referred to as being
unsuitable to blend with other shades. A strong piece of ticking is
required for the foundation, and on this the pieces are arranged. They
should be pinned on while the amalgamation of colouring is being tried,
and, when that is settled, basted on to the lining, the edges of soft
materials being turned under and secured with the basting lines.
Similarity in shape and size is to be avoided when placing the pieces,
and the effect aimed at that of the colouring of a kaleidoscope in its
variety and brightness. In order to obtain queer shapes and corners, it
is not necessary to carefully cut them out and fit them into their
various spaces; in fact, it is better not to do so, but to lay one
material partly over another, and by so doing make the desired form. The
embroidery is generally left until the pieces are basted down to the
lining, but now and again the scraps should be embroidered before they
are fixed down, this method being the least troublesome when fine silk
work is attempted, such as working flowers in shades of colour or
intricate designs, or following out the lines of stamped velvet or
brocade with couched-down cords and gold thread. Thin Oriental silks
require a thin muslin lining underneath them, and the embroidery
executed before they are tacked to the ticking, as unless this
precaution is taken they are apt to pucker and look uneven and poor.
When the patchwork scraps are all arranged, spare strands of filoselle
of any shades are used to cover over the basting threads with lines of
coral stitch, feather, chain, rope, and herringbone, while oddments of
silk cord, Japanese gold thread, very fine braids, etc., are sewn down
either as borderings to the securing lines or as forming designs and
figures on the patches themselves. Embroidery stitches of all kinds are
used to fill in the centres of the patches, and advantage is always
taken of any pattern on the patches either by filling it in entirely
with shaded silks, filling up its background with stars, crosses, or
dots, or by enclosing it within diagonal lines, or sewing spangles down
so as to cover it over. Every effort is made to enrich the patches by
the use of gold thread, spangles, gold lace, and silk cords, and when
the work is faithfully done, no one could guess it was devised out of
oddments and produced at a nominal cost.
B. C. SAWARD.
ROMANCE.
FOR VIOLIN AND PIANOFORTE.
PROFESSOR SIR G. A. MACFARREN.
[Music]
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
EDUCATIONAL.
A. Z.--The part of a whole made by two-thirds of three-fourths is
one-half. Such books as those you name are not so appropriate for young
girls as very desirable, instructive, as well as interesting books,
although a girl of twenty-one might read one of such a kind once in a
way. There is an article by Dr. Green in the last two numbers of the
_Leisure Hour_ (published by the Religious Tract Society, 56,
Paternoster-row, London, E.C.), those for April and May, in which such
books as you require are recommended--history, biography, travels,
archæology, geology, astronomy; Shakespeare, Milton, Elizabeth Barret
Browning, Longfellow, Tennyson, etc. Such books should occupy all your
leisure for reading, besides the study of household economy, nursing,
cookery, needlework, and cutting out. The first five years after leaving
the school-room should be devoted to such studies as these, not wasted
on the class of literature you specify.
G. H. T.--Yes, there is a Kindergarten College and Practising School
established by the British and Foreign School Society. It is at 21,
Stockwell-road, S.W., and it is directed by the Misses Crombie. There
are ten such schools in London and eight in the provinces. Write for
papers, and all information will be supplied you direct from that or any
of the other schools. Had you given your address we could have given
that which is the nearest to you. We think your age would be suitable.
The answer you receive as to terms may decide you as to the way in which
your £20 may be required. Perhaps if you annoyed your cousin she would
not allow you to return home to sleep. Whether you could do so as well
as board at the college we could not say. "Look well before you leap."
ART.
SHELTIE.--To ornament ginger jars, or any kind of earthenware, without
knowing how to draw or paint, first size it with ordinary glue-size,
melted over the fire; then cut bright scraps of chintz, or gaily-painted
cottons, into diamonds, squares, half-circles, triangles, etc., and
paste them to the jars, carefully covering every part of the jar with
the scraps laid closely together, but without making any set design. Let
the paste dry; then size the jar, and varnish with white hard varnish.
FLEUR DES ALPES.--We fear there are no chances of a sale in London, as
the market for screen and fan painting is already so full. Besides, you
should take such work personally to shops and obtain trade orders. Would
it not be wiser and more easy to dispose of them at Geneva, which is
within your reach? Accept our best wishes.
WOULD-BE PHOTOGRAPHER.--The reason that the object to be taken appears
upside down in the camera is this. Light travels in straight lines, and
rays coming through little crevices (such as are used in cameras), cross
each other, and become inverted.
MISCELLANEOUS.
EFFIE.--The texts of Holy Scripture which you cannot find are to be
found as follows:--Psalm xciv. 22, and Gen. xvii. 8; Exodus xxix. 45;
Ezekiel xi. 20; Zechariah viii. 8; 2 Cor. vi. 16; Rev. xxi. 3, and in
other places. Your "Concordance" must be a very bad one. Your
handwriting is not formed, but promises well.
GOWAN COBBAN.--We do not recommend publishers to our correspondents. All
three specimens of writing are legible, but No. 2 is careless and
unfinished. Why write a small "b" for a "v"? The latter has no tall
upper stroke.
E. M.--The health of bride, bridegroom, bridesmaids, and respective
parents of the newly-married pair is drunk, but no others, as a rule.
CORISANDE.--We could not possibly assist you in carrying out or devising
a method of revenge on the wrong-doer, nor do we think that even the
aggrieved parents of the injured friend would approve of the plan. If
you reprobate an ill-bred action, you cannot, consistently with your own
views of what is seemly and dignified, punish that action by following
suit, and doing what would be ill-bred yourself. Besides, as a
Christian, read Romans xii. 19.
UNA MILDRED HITCHINGS (N.Z).--The 14th of February, 1809, was a Tuesday.
Many thanks for your nice letter.
E. B. P. we think had better take more exercise, and avoid late suppers
and sitting up late, as it seems probable her digestion is weak.
SEPIA.--Hairpins are not injurious to the hair except when the hair is
too tightly put up, when that certainly affects the nerves. We think
young people, as a rule, do not require stimulants unless under the
doctor's orders. We think oils are far easier to use than water-colours.
MORNING DEWDROP.--We do not think the poetry worth much now, but it
shows that at fifteen you are thinking about good things in preference
to evil and idle things, and so we consider writing poetry, in many
cases, a good amusement.
QUEENIE FOSTER should return the duplicate copy and ask for the right
one, and if enclosing stamps, as the surest way of getting it, she can
retain the duplicate.
AN UNHAPPY ONE should not marry her widower on any account, if she feels
as unhappy as her letter portrays. She must not grow discouraged too
soon, but cultivate patience, and never minding. And should she finally
undertake the care of a ready-made family, she must be brave and
courteous, not rendering railing for railing, but, contrariwise,
blessing. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.
HAWTHORN.--We know of nothing better than your present treatment. We are
much obliged by your kind offer, but we do not require any at present.
IDONEA.--We should think your digestion was out of order. Read the
advice given by Medicus to "Working Girls," page 295, vol. vi.
MYSOTIS.--Your nationality is that of your father, but you may adopt a
country; and if he be naturalised English, you become English too, or
you may legally become so yourself. Also, if you marry an Englishman you
become an Englishwoman, without going through the process of
naturalisation. Of course by blood you are half English, through your
maternal descent.
OPHELIA.--We feel for "Ophelia" very sincerely; but she should rouse
herself, and not give way to morbid brooding over her troubles. Has she
no sacred duties to perform to those around her? No Lord and Master
above to serve and glorify, by submission to His dispensations? Has she
no blessed hope of a life beyond the grave? We could not insert your
verses. "All else" is not "gone," whoever was removed, when you have
"one that sticketh closer than a brother" to lean upon. Read St. John
xiv.; indeed, you had better study the whole Gospel, and set yourself
resolutely to devote yourself to others.
MAY ELWIN.--Our publisher, Mr. Tarn, sent us your letter. We suppose you
thought him the editor. The writer of the poems you name is not one with
whom we are acquainted.
MYSELF.--We cannot do better than refer you to the abuses of the Lord's
supper, to which St. Paul alludes in 1 Cor. ii. 21, 22, which answers
your question. Also see Hebrews x. 25, and 1 Cor. xiv. 40. Beware how
you trifle with sacred rites and sacraments. You had better look up the
whole of the text about Elders and their office in the New Testament
Epistles. Our Lord's promise is that where two or three are gathered
together He would be in their midst and bless them. You had better look
out the word communion in the dictionary, as it cannot refer to one
person alone; it is an act performed by a certain number of persons
together, more or less. Again, when the clergyman prays for his
congregation, is he not a mediator? And when you and your friends pray
for each other, are you not mediators? And this, without disparagement
to the doctrine that Christ is the great and chief Mediator, without
whose divine mediation all other would be useless.
BRUNETTE.--The soul does not attain its highest state of bliss until it
be re-united to the body; but the soul of a believer in Christ (by which
we mean one of His faithful people, who loves, serves, and trusts in Him
and His atonement alone) will enter into a happy and sinless rest. He
has made "an everlasting covenant with them," not with those who deny
Him. Any mercy shown to such would be uncovenanted. See for yourself
what the Scriptures say. We know nothing more than what is revealed in
them. As to the heathen who have not heard the Gospel, they are "a law
unto themselves," and will be judged as such, not as those who rejected
Christ.
ONE WANTING TO LEARN.--We are glad that you find the Sulhampstead
Question Society, which we recommended, so useful in helping forward
your education. We do not print our correspondents' letters.
ROY.--We regret that we cannot accede to your request. It would
interfere with the general usefulness of our magazine if we were to
introduce the subject of politics into it. We do not even discuss vexed
questions of religious belief, because our paper is meant for persons of
all denominations, whose feelings should be respected. We limit our
teaching to the broad principles of our common Christianity.
LOTTIE.--If in so feeble a state of health, you should obtain medical
advice. We could not prescribe for a perfect stranger.
JUNE.--All the chief writers of this paper, with the artists and musical
composers, including ourselves, have already been represented, in a more
or less satisfactory manner. The story, "That Aggravating Schoolgirl,"
appeared in the second volume, beginning at page 9.
M. C. F.--We do not quite understand what you mean. Visiting cards
should never be sent by post, and if they be left at the house you
acknowledge them by calling in return. If people be at a distance from
you, you must take an opportunity of calling when near. You must answer
congratulations either by letter or a call.
BIRCHBROOM.--St. Paul was a bachelor, and tells you so in 1 Cor. vii.
You will find many pretty designs for knitting in our paper. We do not
propose to keep any space specially for knitting recipes. You will find
one for a petticoat at page 41, vol. ii., in the number for October,
1880.
NELLICA.--We thank you for your kind and grateful letter, and rejoice
that you enjoy our paper and are allowed to read it. You write a very
fair, legible handwriting.
A HOTHOUSE PLANT.--Pampas grass must be bleached in a solution of
chloride of lime. You had better consult the chemist of whom you procure
the drug as to the proportion of water. Perhaps he would prepare it for
you. You write well, but use a bad pen--we mean an old, worn-out one.
BEDWAEEN (Hyderabad).--We acknowledge your kind letter with our best
wishes and thanks. You do not ask any special question; but as you
regret a want of acquaintance with the rules of English grammar, we
recommend "The Handbook of the English Tongue," by Dr. Angus, published
at our office, 56, Paternoster-row, E.C.; address Mr. Tarn.
AMELIA should take her "twopenny mulready envelope" to a shop where
stamps are sold for collections. This is the only plan, if not disposed
of to a private collector. We do not think she will make very much on
the sale.
THE BIRD.--Kindly refer to the article in question, where all
information is already given.
ORMONDE should call after all invitations, whether she accept them or
not.
LILY WALKER.--The bridegroom presents the bride and bridesmaids with
their bouquets; but it is not needful that the latter should have them.
The health of the bride and bridegroom respectively are proposed by the
oldest friend of the family present; but other healths are no longer
drunk as a universal rule, we believe.
ITALIA.--The competition papers are in no case returned. Your quotation
is very good, but is useless under the circumstances.
DULCIE WESTON should consult a doctor and take a tonic. We should
decidedly object to cold baths in her case. They should be rather warmer
than tepid.
DEWDROP.--When the right time comes for the hatching of silkworms, they
should be kept in the sun. Before that they should be kept cool, as
their coming out should be delayed until that of the new mulberry
leaves. The worms need not to be kept in the sun.
BLUEBELL and DOLLY.--Many thanks for your kind letter.
MAYFLOWER.--We should think, from the price you name, that you are
buying spirits of wine. Send your own bottle to an oilshop for
methylated spirits. But why not do this:--Get a small oil-lamp and
kettle, enough to boil a quart of water; when quite boiling it will be
enough for two gallons of cold water, and, using a sponge bath, you can
have a comfortable bath?
GRACE should wear the backboard and faceboard, so often recommended by
us, for an hour every day while reading or learning her lessons. The
book could be set on a stand or shelf, and she could learn while walking
to and fro.
GUELDER ROSE.--Some words and names have been given an arbitrary
pronunciation by that tyrant--the fashion of the day. There is a rule
for each class of society, by which all within those respective circles
is bound, unless its members wish to make themselves remarkable. Amongst
the "Upper Ten" the name Derby is pronounced "Darby," Shrewsbury as
"Shrowsbury," and clerk as "clark." Balmoral is "Bal-moral," the "mo"
chiefly accentuated. Writing fairly good.
TRY AGAIN is thanked for her kind letter. That a competitor should not
be successful is no discredit to her work, because the number of papers
sent in is so enormous, none but the most remarkably perfect amongst the
good ones can be awarded even certificates, not to say prizes.
COMING THRO' THE RYE.--You form your letters fairly well, but reverse
the heavy and light strokes. The down strokes should be heavy, and the
up strokes light. Also, if you did not make the ends of your final
letters in every word turn up like pig-tails, your writing would be
improved. Perhaps your handwriting may be formed, or begin to be so, at
sixteen. No children write running hands.
ROSE.--No "gentlemen" presume to speak to girls in their own rank of
life without an introduction; it would be an insult. And as to proposing
to walk with you, as a stranger, if you have no father, brother, nor
uncle to warn him away, he deserves to be handed over to the police. But
men do not usually take such liberties unless they have had some
encouragement. Beware of looking at strange men in passing them. Look
away when they come near.
EDITH.--Sage tea is good for cooling the face and healing the skin when
much sunburnt; but it should be used the same day. Lie on a sofa, and
lay the wet leaves over your face.
AUTUMN.
[Illustration]
BY HELEN MARION BURNSIDE.
The chestnut burrs are falling
On the shining dew-steeped lawn,
Where the swallows have been calling
To each other since the dawn;
For again the forest leaves,
And the upland's crown of sheaves,
Wear the fair pathetic glory, which so quickly is withdrawn.
And a youthful pair goes straying,
As we used to do of old,
With the sunlight on them playing,
Through the elm trees' paling gold;
And I wonder as they go,
Pacing slowly to and fro,
Are they telling one another just such secrets as we told?
In the cool and fragrant dunlight
Of the woodlands, wet with dew,
Looking out towards the sunlight
Here I stand--but where are you?
Where are summer's lusty leaves,
Where the swallows from the eaves,
And the hopes, and dreams, and longings that in those old days we knew?
Many a spring has blossomed brightly
On the grave of a dead past,
Many a summer has tossed lightly
Her cast leaves upon the blast;
And as autumn fades away
Into winter's quiet grey,
Comes the hope: eternal springtide will give back my friend at last!