I left off last time in rather an abrupt fashion: but possibly
the unfinished condition of my article may—on the principle of
serial stories, which always exhibit a certain unexpectedness and
incompleteness in their instalments—have given my readers an appetite,
so that, like Oliver Twist, they are “ready for more.” I will therefore
now proceed to explain what was meant by the “other thing” spoken of at
the end of my paper.
It had reference to what is often felt to be a difficulty with regard
to country house visiting, and consists in not knowing how long to
stay. When, as sometimes happens, the duration of the visit is settled
and plainly mentioned beforehand, it is a real comfort; for if you are
invited for a week, or from such a day to such a day, the dates being
given, there is no room for doubt: you know exactly what is expected
of you and can make plans to suit. But when the invitation is vague
as to its ending, though explicit as to its beginning, and you are
asked to “come on the 8th and stay with us; we shall have a few cheery
people,” it is hard to say for certain whether the traditional three
days, “press day, dress day, and rest day,” as the line runs—though
for my part I fail to see where the “rest” day comes in—are intended
to cover the time of your visit or whether a week is meant. At all
events it is always better to be too short than too long as regards
time when others are concerned besides yourself. A prolix, long-winded
individual is invariably fled from when he begins to speak, and anybody
who gets a reputation for outstaying his or her welcome is not likely
to be asked much anywhere. It would be terrible to be known as “that
woman who can never be got rid of when she once comes.” Far better is
it to arrange for a short visit, and then, should your hostess really
wish you to pay a longer one, she can say so and try to persuade you
to alter your plans on her behalf. But, unless it is quite clear that
your company is still desired, it is wise to keep to your original
intention, because sometimes politeness, carried perhaps rather beyond
what is necessary, may be misunderstood, as really occurred on one
occasion when some people who had paid an unreasonably long visit were
leaving the house at last, to the relief of their entertainers. An
unlucky impulse prompted the hostess to say, “Good-bye, must you really
go?” Whereupon, to her dismay, the departing guests turned with a smile
and said, “Oh no, we are not really obliged to go just yet,” and they
actually stayed. Here again we may take counsel of the wisest of Books
which says, “Remove thy foot from thy neighbour’s house lest he grow
weary and hate thee.”
While on this subject it may be well to remark that the same rule
applies to all visits, even what are called “morning” visits—calls made
because they must be made more than with the idea of any pleasure to
be evolved therefrom. The temptation to remain too long in such cases
is, of course, not great, but it does not follow necessarily that the
visitor goes just when she ought. Shyness, a sort of difficulty in
finding the right moment in which to get up and say good-bye, perhaps
sometimes a feeling that you have seemed stupid and dull, and that you
must try and sparkle somewhat before you go, to take away the bad
impression given of your abilities; all sorts of little under-currents
common to human nature seem at times to hamper people and make them do
_gauche_ things, among them being that of sitting on when they ought to
leave.
Even if you are with a friend, not an ordinary acquaintance, and have
lunched with her, it is better to make a move to depart soon after; for
although you may have nothing particular to do that day, she may have,
and in London especially there is such a pressure of things which must
be got through somehow that few of us can afford to let our afternoon
slip away, and with it the chance of seeing such a person, going to
such a shop, writing important letters, etc., etc.
Now I will return to the country house, to make a few observations,
this time not to the visitors, but to the visited; and, as I have all
through my articles tried to make it clear that I do not address myself
to people who live in luxury, I wish to repeat that fact, and to say
that I have not “in my mind’s eye” a magnificent castle with everything
to match, but a house on a modest scale and establishment ditto.
You, inhabiting a nice, comfortable abode of the kind, have bidden some
guests to come and stay; perhaps for an “At Home” in the neighbourhood,
perhaps with no special object in view; but the country is pretty,
they can walk or “bike,” and there is the pony-carriage and possibly a
dog-cart, useful for men in the shooting-season.
Well, first I hope you have not asked too many, for, except in the case
of very young girls who have scarcely been out anywhere, and to whom
a gathering means Elysium, never mind what inconveniences in the shape
of an over full house—sofas to sleep upon and hardly room to dress
in—are attached to it, nobody likes discomfort, and cramming ten people
in where there is only space for eight, or less, does not conduce
to comfort. Besides, too many guests means too few servants for the
unwonted crowd, and consequently work has to be hurried through and, in
artistic parlance, “scamped.”
Then you have dust not only lurking in corners but coming boldly
forth to view on carpets and furniture, glass and china dull and
knives ditto, flowers drooping, half-dead for want of water; in fact
a complete absence of those details which spell first cleanliness and
then charm in a house, and, taking them as a whole, make the difference
between enjoyment of daily life and the mere endurance of it for the
sake of some brilliant hours in prospect.
It is the business of a hostess to see that her staff of servants is
equal to the demands made upon it, and then to exact thoroughness in
the work done; outside which there remain many small matters for her
personal attention, such as putting writing materials in the bedrooms,
cards on which are printed the hours for breakfast, lunch and dinner,
and the arrival and departure of the post; and if in addition to this a
time-table of trains to and from London is annexed, it will be found of
great value in sparing somebody the headache which so often accompanies
a prolonged study of Bradshaw. A few books also, suited to the tastes
of whoever is to occupy the room, should always be left on a shelf or
table. They look comfortable and are generally appreciated.
The mistress of a house must of course show a pleasant countenance of
welcome to her visitors, and should be quick to notice little signs
of fatigue in the elders, contriving to spare them too much talking
when they ought to be resting, without at all suggesting that repose
was needful because they are not quite as young as they were, a thing
which nobody likes to believe patent to an ordinary observer. With the
younger members of the party she must be as bright and “full of life”
as her physical and mental constitution will allow; ready to make plans
for amusement, and as far as circumstances admit, arrange them to suit
the different dispositions of her guests; not forcing the naturally
inactive ones to join in outdoor games, scramble through woods, or
take part in picnics when a chilly wind is blowing, and black clouds
render precautionary umbrellas and waterproofs necessary items in the
outfit; nor, on the other hand, obliging the athletic, to whom movement
is indispensable and good bracing air a regular “pick-me-up,” to sit
in the house because the weather is bad, when they are really longing
to don thick boots and defy the elements with the weapons of youth and
health.
But while trying your best to provide some sort of amusement for your
guests, never forget to “leave well alone,” and your visitors also.
If there is one thing more objectionable than another to many people,
it is being “hiked about,” and told to go here and there, or do this
and that, when they do not want either to go to or do the place or
thing suggested. Talleyrand once said to a man who asked counsel of
him respecting a project he had very much at heart, “_Surtout pas trop
de zèle_,” and that advice it is well to bear in mind. We all know the
proverb, “One may have too much of a good thing,” and “zeal,” excellent
in itself, is apt if over-much indulged to become a nuisance to the
object if not the subject thereof.
The hostess who, with the best intentions, insists on driving her
friends even to things they like doing, who says, “Now I know what
will suit you—the old ruins. We will go there to-day, and to-morrow is
the Gymkana. We must all go there. Headache, did you say? Oh, I thought
you never had headaches, but anyhow a nice little drive just to the
ruins can’t hurt. In fact the air will do you good. Now, you, I know
you would rather stay in, so take that comfortable chair, and there’s
your book, I put it ready for you, and there’s the _Morning Post_, or
would you like the _Times_ better?” and so on _ad infinitum_, is a
person to be dreaded. “Kind woman,” say her friends behind her back,
“but, oh, if she would only leave us alone!”
The essence of good manners, indeed, is to make things as pleasant
as possible by letting people follow their own bent and inclination;
giving them the chance of joining in something which may be agreeable,
but dropping the subject at once if it does not seem to be attractive.
Closely connected with this is manner itself, about which it may be
said perhaps, “People cannot help their manner.”
That is true to a certain extent but not entirely, for a good manner
may be cultivated and a bad one discouraged just as flowers may be
watered and attended to and weeds rooted out. When I speak of a good
manner, I do not mean that specially soft demeanour which reminds one
somewhat of a cat and is often accompanied by a little delicately
hinted flattery of the person spoken to, although such manner is seldom
thrown away, human nature being very prone to approve of flattery under
the guise of appreciation. But I do mean gentleness as contrasted
with anything like roughness or _brusquerie_. The Latin expression
“_Suaviter in modo_” conveys the idea better than any words I know,
and, in women particularly, short sharp ways of speaking, over-strong,
almost violent, expressions of opinion, and what may be called unoiled
words of contradiction, are disagreeable in themselves and dead against
every rule and custom of society. If we possess a hand of steel, let
us hide it in a velvet glove. The strength will be in no wise impaired
thereby, while our neighbours will be less sensible of the hardness.
I must now say a word with regard to a curious mistake made sometimes
even by people who certainly ought to know better. The mistake is in
leaving out part of a person’s name whether in speaking or writing.
If, for example, a man is called “Lord Frederick Smith,” or a woman
“Lady Mary or Lady Edward Jones,” the Christian name must always be
heard: not omitted in favour of the surname only. Indeed very often
the former need only be mentioned, but the latter alone must never be.
“Lord Smith” or “Lady Jones,” in the cases adduced above would be quite
incorrect, but, strange to say, the error is not seldom committed.
Finally I will turn to the subject of most women’s pleasure and
difficulty, dress. That is to say, dress when staying in country
houses, for with respect to London there is no occasion to offer any
observations, every woman being a law unto herself, limited only by her
own taste and purse. But I know that sometimes, if a visit is imminent,
the question “What clothes shall I take?” presents itself to the mind
in the light rather of a puzzle far from easy to unravel, especially
if ways and means are not remarkable for abundance. Naturally every
girl and woman likes to look her best when staying away with the chance
of meeting strangers and making a good or bad impression, and in the
case of women who have reached the summer or autumn of life, there is
one comparatively simple mode of lessening the toilette problem, which
is to wear black. Black in good condition, be it understood, because
shabby black has about it suggestions of poverty and supreme effort,
which are neither becoming nor exhilarating. But silk, satin, velvet,
any material really handsome, and lightened by lace and jet, can go
anywhere unashamed, while for morning gowns cashmere, foulard, and that
haven of refuge, the ubiquitous serge, always look well and do not date
themselves too obviously. As for hats and bonnets, everybody can please
themselves, remembering, however, that one hat should be fit to stand
rain, as nothing has a worse effect than bedraggled ostrich feathers,
or artificial flowers and gauze or chiffon crushed flat by a downpour.
A short skirt is also an essential, and perhaps, if the purse is as
short as the gown, an economy may be arrived at by having two skirts of
different length to wear with the same coat. Neat boots of course “go
without saying,” and plenty of gloves, a strong pair or two for every
day and a store of pretty ones for occasions when they will be wanted.
Tweeds and serges, cottons and foulards to suit the season—and the age
of the wearer—are the best materials for morning frocks whether in
black or colour. Silks and satins are quite out of it in the country
except for evening. Tea-gowns _versus_ regular dinner dresses is a
question to which an answer vague as those of the Delphic Oracle can
only be given, for the excellent reason that the custom in one house
is no guide to it in another in the matter. At some places when the
party is small and quiet, tea-gowns are quite in order even at dinner,
but in others those comfortable garments are relegated to their proper
sphere, appearing only at five o’clock tea, the wearers blossoming
forth at a later hour in the smartest and most up-to-date of toilettes.
Tea-jackets answer the purpose of tea-gowns, but one or other should be
packed, although it may chance after all to stay in the wardrobe, never
being required either at tea or dinner.
Some pretty frocks which would do alike for party or dinner must be
taken, and a few odds and ends of ribbon, bits of lace and sprays
of artificial flowers, in case real ones are not to be had from the
gardener, come in useful especially if an impromptu fancy dress dinner
is arranged, and “the shop” in the village, with its stock-in-trade
varying from candles and ironmongery to very thin cottony ribbons of
abnormal hues, bunches of scarlet geranium, and poppies with woolly
buds, is the only place where anything can be got.
In deciding what to take and what to leave behind, space necessarily
must be considered, and it is astonishing the quantity of things
one person will bring out of a box, almost like a conjuror and his
inexhaustible hat, while another woman can hardly make the same sized
receptacle hold half that number of articles. The difference comes
partly from natural genius and partly from habit. In any case it is
better to take two or three trunks of moderate dimensions than one
mountain, which taxes the strength of even railway-porters, and makes
servants look askance when they see a sort of elephant in the hall,
waiting to be transported somehow upstairs. More than all, have your
luggage tidy, locks secure, straps ditto. Bags and portmanteaus have
a way of getting out of order, as regards the spring. I have seen
specimens of both, strapped certainly, but not really locked, so that
an aperture was visible all along the top, which should have been
closed, and I have felt sorry for the owners.
These details, although they seem hardly in touch with my subject,
are yet not entirely unconnected with it, inasmuch as one rule is to
encourage things pleasant, and avoid, or ignore, things disagreeable.
The wheels of daily life run over rough as well as smooth ground, and
the inevitable jars and concussions would be even more apparent than
they are, were it not for the oil provided by the Rules of Society.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
MEDICAL.
SEPTEMDECIM.—Probably you will go on growing for five years longer.
Besides which 5 feet 4 inches is not so very short for a woman. It is a
very good medium height. It is extremely probable that you will put on
another couple of inches, and that in a few years you will be writing
to ask us how to get shorter.
MISERABLE.—You are quite right in ascribing a purely mental cause
for your trouble. Blushing is almost always due to mental and not to
physical causes. The form that your complaint takes is one of the
commonest we have to deal with. As the cause is purely mental, so the
treatment must be solely a matter of mental education. A short time ago
we published an article on blushing, dealing especially with the kind
of blushing from which you suffer. In that article we gave suggestions
for the suppression of self-consciousness—the factor _par excellence_
of the commoner varieties of blushing and nervousness.
ENIGMA.—There is no such disease as “gastric fever.” This name used to
be given to various forms of slight fever accompanied with symptoms
referable to the stomach or bowels. Most cases of “gastric fever” were,
in reality, mild attacks of typhoid fever. Acute indigestion was also
not infrequently labelled gastric fever—an inappropriate term, for in
acute indigestion there is practically no fever. The term “gastric
fever” is not now used by medical men.
LAL.—The symptoms that you detail to us are capable of many
explanations. The two most definite and important signs are occasional
blood-spitting and shortness of breath when going up a hill. Are you
sure that you do cough up blood? Most probably your troubles are simply
due to chronic catarrh of the throat, but they may be dependent upon
some mischief in the chest. Anyhow, you should have your chest examined
before doing anything else.
DYSPEPTIC.—The bismuth lozenge of the British Pharmacopœia contains
two grains of subnitrate of bismuth, precipitated chalk, and carbonate
of magnesia, together with mucilage, etc. It is very useful for
indigestion, especially when there is a tendency to vomiting. The great
use of these lozenges lies in the ease with which they can be carried
about. When there is no tendency to sickness, lozenges of bicarbonate
of soda or soda-mint are preferable to bismuth lozenges.
SEEKING ADVICE.—The “small pimples” on your face are manifestations
of acne. We have so frequently discussed this trouble that we cannot
again enter into a full description of its cause and cure. Wash your
face with warm water and sulphur soap, and every evening apply sulphur
ointment to the place where the pimples are most numerous. Wash away
the ointment in the morning and squeeze out a few of the most prominent
spots. You are at the age for acne, but with a little care you are not
likely to be troubled for long with it. For your hands, wash in warm
water and use sulphur soap. Always wear thick gloves when you go out.
We published a small article on the care of the hands some few weeks
ago.
SCOTCH LASSIE.—Your trouble is due either to indigestion or to anæmia,
or to nervousness, or possibly to disease of the heart. Without
examining your chest it is beyond the power of any mortal to say which
of these various affections is troubling you. Our advice is, therefore,
go to your doctor and have your chest examined. You may be disappointed
with this curt reply, but it is far more valuable advice than you
imagine.
TEETHING.—There are four wisdom teeth. One on each side of both upper
and lower jaws. They are called wisdom teeth because they do not
develop until mature years. The first to appear is usually the one in
the right side of the lower jaw. This usually appears between the ages
of twenty and twenty-two. The wisdom teeth develop in nearly everybody,
not only in those who are wise. Nor does the early appearance of the
teeth indicate superior mental powers. Indeed, savages and idiots
usually have the best teeth. Sometimes they do decay very soon, but
very often they remain as sound serviceable teeth until the end.
A LOVER OF DANCING.—A large vein in the leg is not necessarily a
varicose vein, but most probably it is so or will become so in time. A
varicose vein is a diseased vein. It is very common, indeed, to have
varicose veins in one leg only. If so the left leg is the more commonly
affected. Is it your left leg which is affected? Exercise in the form
of dancing for a few minutes every morning would be distinctly good
for varicose veins. It is standing and sitting which are bad. The best
thing for you to do is to get an elastic stocking for the leg. Let
the stocking be one or two inches higher than the highest point where
the vein extends. If you wear an elastic stocking, varicose veins are
not dangerous, but if they are left untreated they cause very serious
troubles.
MONA.—Have the tooth removed. Teeth growing out of place are quite
useless, and are ugly and uncomfortable. No. The condition is not at
all uncommon.
ANXIOUS MOTHER.—The question of the causation of tuberculosis by milk
is the most important question in modern preventive medicine; for not
only is tuberculosis the most common and most fatal disease of man,
but milk is the staple food of infancy and sickness—the two states
in which we are most prone to harbour germs of this terrible malady.
To the public mind tuberculosis is synonymous with consumption of
the lungs, but this is only one of its manifestations. Brain fever
(tuberculosis of the brain) is a common and invariably fatal disease.
The joint troubles known as “white swelling,” “hip disease,” and
very many others are due to tuberculosis. The so-called “scrofulous”
glands, which disfigure and undermine the health of so many of our
children, are due to tuberculosis. The worst and most fatal form of
diarrhœa is due to tuberculosis of the bowels. No organ in the body
is exempt from the ravages of this disease. We look with righteous
horror at the plague, or the various fevers which occasionally decimate
our towns and villages, but these are as nothing when compared with
the ravages of tuberculosis. Unlike the fevers which destroy life in
a few days, tuberculosis usually takes months, often years, to kill
its victims. Slowly, but surely, this terrible malady eats away the
human organs till the unfortunate sufferers die of exhaustion, or from
an intercurrent malady. To say that medical science can always cure
tuberculosis would be very far from the truth, but it can and does
rescue millions of sufferers from the disease. And it can, and in the
future it will, do much to prevent the disease from gaining an entrance
to the body. The disease is caused by a microbe, an infinitesimal atom
of jelly, which cannot even move; but it can, and does, multiply by
splitting in two, at an incredible rate. As regards the prevention
of this scourge, the first question we must consider is, where does
this dreadful organism come from? Suffice it for your question that
the organism is frequently found in milk. True, it is only in the
milk of tubercular animals that these organisms are found, but it is
not always possible to tell whether a cow has tuberculosis. And so,
notwithstanding every precaution, tubercular milk does get into your
milk-jug and that can scarcely be prevented; but you can prevent the
organisms from finding their way into you or your child’s body by
the simple expedient of boiling the milk. If you boil milk it cannot
give you tuberculosis. Now, we dare say you think that we might have
said this at once, and not wasted half a column of valuable space in
detailing the horrors of tuberculosis. Had we done this you would
probably not have paid any attention to our warning. It is only by
forcible illustration that we can impress the mind with the immense
value of attention to trifling details. And the importance of this
detail may be gauged when we aver that a law to enforce persons boiling
their milk would probably save more lives than the invention of ships
which could not possibly be injured by wind or weather, or of railway
trains which could not collide.
STUDY AND STUDIO.
D. E. N. S.—1. We cannot tell you of any French lady who would exchange
correspondence lessons with you. But why not insert your name in our
“International Correspondence” column?—2. Mudie’s Library, or Smith’s,
extend their operations to country districts. For light reading, you
might try one of these.
LAUREL.—We have read your letter with great sympathy. We cannot give
a direct “yes” or “no” to your question, as so much depends on the
individual habit of mind. Would you not like to read a good translation
(_e.g._, Longfellow’s) of Dante’s “Divine Comedy” on Sunday? We
certainly think you should employ your scanty leisure to the best
advantage; but there are many great poets who are so spiritual in tone,
that there could be no doubt as to the fitness of studying them on this
day.
SEMPER IDEM.—1. You do not give us your address, but there are plenty
of classes in London for type-writing; address The Secretary, Board of
Technical Instruction, St. Martin’s Lane, W.C. The art appears to be
very quickly learned as a rule.—2. Your quotation,
“Boys, flying kites, haul in their white-winged birds,
You can’t do that way when you’re flying words,”
is from “The First Settler’s Story” in Will Carleton’s _Farm Ballads_.
EDWIN C. R. LANGLEY.—Many thanks for your kind suggestion. We
remembered Longfellow’s mention of St. Augustine; but Tennyson, though
his thought is similar, does not mean St. Augustine, or even Longfellow
by
“Him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones.”
Our information, that the poet referred to was Goethe, comes from one
who had asked Tennyson himself.
COLLEEN BAWN.—1. Your story is graphically written and shows you to
have a certain power of description. The criticism—not, as you suggest,
a severe one—which we should be disposed to offer is this:—That you
are inclined towards an excess of sentimentality. Why should the
curate have felt “everything was changed for him” after the scene in
the church? “Miss Amy” had given him no cause whatever, so far as the
reader can observe, for any such despair. And his dying in the snow
is unnecessarily tragic. A sensible man, accustomed to traverse the
parish in all weathers, would have guarded against losing his way on
such a night as you describe, probably by remaining under shelter at
the cottage till daylight, if no guide could be found. One feels that
the man’s life is quite needlessly sacrificed for the sake of forcing
the pathos. We should not have said all this, had not your story shown
some signs of talent, and if you are neglecting no duty by writing, we
should advise you to persevere.—2. Your handwriting is good, and you
appear to understand the art of punctuation, which is by no means a
matter of course.
FROG.—1. We should advise you to write to George Philip & Son,
publishers, London, for a full catalogue of geographical works of
every sort at a low price. Doubtless any bookseller would procure this
catalogue for you.—2. We should consider that no soap can be of any
possible use in reducing weight. Plenty of exercise and proper diet are
the best remedies.
WHITE ASTER.—1. We do not consider your handwriting good. The backward
slope is not to be admired, and in addition to this defect, it is very
irregular and untidy.—2. We have heard that a coating of varnish is
sufficient for the purpose you name, but have never tried it.
MISS E. K. SIBBALD (Canada).—Many thanks for sending the extract
stating that “Puss” is a modern form of the Egyptian “Pasht”—a name
given by the ancient Egyptians to the moon, and also to the cat, of
which they made an idol. The cat’s face was supposed to resemble the
moon “because she was more bright at night, and because her eyes change
just as the moon changes, which is sometimes full and sometimes a
bright crescent or half moon.”
CLISSOLD.—All we can suggest is that you should apply to the director
or organizing secretary for technical education in your district,
asking him where you can obtain instruction in “black and white.” We
believe that the address for Halifax would be W. Vibart Dixon, Esq.,
West Riding Offices, Wakefield. He would perhaps help you. Did you
read Mrs. Watson’s articles on “What are the County Councils doing for
Girls”? (THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER, 1897.) We advise you to refer to them.
E. G. M.—Your poem on the “Dying Child” is incorrect in metre. From
verse to verse the lines vary; for instance, your ear can tell you that
these lines are not alike—
“Oh, weary watcher! thy care is all in vain.”
“Relentless watcher, thy name is Death.”
Yet both lines occupy the same place in the verse. “The Phantom Bell”
is much better, so far as form goes; but not quite accurate, and we
fear you would scarcely be able to find a publisher for it. You should
study the laws of versification.
MISS NICHOLLS.—1. We cannot insert your requirements in full; but are
willing to say that any reader, not under twenty-four, acquainted with
German, French, and either painting or music (the latter preferred),
who feels she would like to work with another lady in teaching and
share her house, may write to you for further details.—2. Your poems
are very fairly good, especially the translations. The first two
verses of the Italian specimen do you credit. We also proceed to
notice, at your request, A Romance Languages Club, Secretary, Miss
Nicholls, Laburnum Villa, Leamington. “The club is designed to promote
the intelligent study of the Romance Languages—French, Italian,
Spanish and Portuguese. Every member must study French and one other
language—Italian, Spanish or Portuguese; but if a member wishes to
work at three or all four languages, she will be at liberty to do so.
On receipt of a stamped addressed envelope a trial lesson will be sent
free to anyone.” Further particulars may be obtained on application.
SELECTA and FIRST CLASS of FRÄULEIN GREEN’S SCHOOL, HAMBURG.—We are
very glad, dear girls, to hear that our paper finds its way to you and
gives you pleasure. You must have made excellent progress in English
when you can read it as a recreation, not merely as a lesson. We
should like to encourage you to persevere. Germans have understood and
commented upon our greatest author, Shakespeare, better even than we
English have done, and we owe your country a great literary debt. We
hope that in days to come you may each be able to appreciate, not only
the great books of your own country, but the great books of ours—and
then you will never regret any toil or trouble spent in learning the
English language.
MISCELLANEOUS.
AN OLD SUBSCRIBER.—Visiting-cards, as such, should not be sent by
post under any circumstances. The enclosure of cards with a piece of
wedding-cake only serves to indicate whence the latter comes. They are
not sent as visiting-cards.
SCIENTIST.—The writer of the articles on “House-Mottoes” has been
questioned on the subject of the old house in Lancashire, known as
“Bradley Hall.” That it may be identified as being reduced to the
position of a farm-house is all she can suggest. She was not aware
that any other ancient country seats existed in Lancashire, all of
them known by the same name; and is surprised to hear that there are
“several.” “The Herald’s Visitations” of the county might afford the
information required.
ETHELINDA writes a good legible free hand.
OUR DICK.—The game called “kiss-in-the-ring” is not one played by the
higher classes of society. Amongst others less reserve is unfortunately
permitted. In any case such familiarity between young men and women is
inexpedient. Blues, greens, and violet are the colours which best suit
red or chestnut hair.
E. E. MORGAN.—We thank you for your list of places where used
postage-stamps may be sent for the benefit of the Asylum for Girls
at Le Locle, Neuchâtel, Switzerland. We are well acquainted with the
“Asile des Billodes,” and have often both written about it in the
“G. O. P.,” but contribute largely to it annually, direct to a native
friend. However, we will give our readers two addresses, with which you
have favoured us, viz., the Swiss Home, Mechlenburg Square, W.C., and
Messrs. Loizeaux Bros., 63, Fourth Avenue, New York. We inquired of a
Swiss friend how such stamps were made available for the benefit of the
charity, and she said she believed, though she was not sure, that they
were sent to Nuremberg for the purpose of making _papier maché_. We
give her conjecture for what it may be worth.
HAHA.—If the dust coming out of the wood you name be consequent on
“dry-rot”—a decay of the wood—it is connected with the growth of a
minute plant belonging to the tribe of _fungi_, which spreads with
wonderful rapidity, and feeds on the juice of the wood. Of course,
if the wood be infested with vermin, you can ascertain that fact for
yourself by examining it with a microscope, and observing any movement,
if there be such.
EXCELSIOR.—The character begins to be formed in early childhood, but
the judgment takes a good many years to come to maturity, and in some
not till five-and-twenty or later, and remains defective the whole life
through with others. From the character of your letter, we should say
that your state of health has a great influence on your excitable and
unhappy frame of mind. You are also striving by fits and starts to “be
good” in your own strength, instead of telling your Heavenly Father
your temptations, doubts, and frequent falls, and asking for the help
of the Holy Spirit. He has said, “My grace is sufficient for thee; for
My strength shall be made perfect in weakness.” Pray for grace to look
away from self and its insufficiency to Christ, Who hath “borne our
sins,” and “by Whose stripes we are healed.” Live from day to day; do
not forestall temptations and imaginary failures. “Sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof.”
W. A. B. E.—The “best man” leads out the bride’s eldest sister (or
first bridesmaid), and the others may follow escorted by the other
gentlemen near relatives (single men). The bride cuts the cake in the
first instance, and she deputes any of the young men—brother or “best
man”—to cut up what is required.
“MY FAVOURITE CONTRIBUTORS” COMPETITION.
EACH reader of this paper is asked to select Ten Contributors from the
Portrait Gallery, which we present with our Thousandth Number, and to
write us an interesting letter telling us, as though from friend to
friend, which writings of her favourite contributors please her most.
Begin the letter, which may be short or long, and which may be written
on any kind and size of paper preferred by the writer, with the words—
MY DEAR MR. EDITOR,
My favourite contributors are—
1st.________________
And what I have enjoyed most are—— (with any remarks of the
competitor’s own which she may wish to make).
2nd.________________
And so on.
_Full signature_ ____________
_Address_ _______________
The ten letters which satisfy the Editor most will be awarded a prize
of ONE GUINEA each, so there will be ten of these prizes. There will
also be ten prizes of HALF-A-GUINEA each (making twenty prizes in all),
and a list of Honourable Mention.
* * * * *
The last day for receiving the letters will be May Day, 1899, and no
letters can be returned to the writers.
OUR SUPPLEMENT STORY COMPETITION.
“WHEN MY SHIP COMES HOME.”
A STORY IN MINIATURE.
FIRST PRIZE (£2 2s.).
Letitia E. May, Tremayne, Alton, Hants.
SECOND PRIZE (£1 1s.).
Miss A. G. Pike, 21, Beatrice Avenue, Plymouth.
THIRD PRIZE (10s. 6d.).
Bessie Hine, 508, West Green Road, South Tottenham.
HONOURABLE MENTION.
“Dalkeith,” Southsea; Helen A. Rickards, Monmouth; Lucy Richardson,
York; Relda Hofman, Paris; Ada A. Gage, Norwich; “Felicity,” Harwich,
Essex; E. Jackson, Bow, E.; Lottie Hardy, Redcliffe Road, South
Kensington; Margaret Rudd, Anerley; Edith Matthew, Beckenham; Elizabeth
Rogers, Tramore, Co. Waterford; Florence L. Berry, Worcester; Florence
Bensted, Deal; Alice E. Graves, Roscrea, Co. Tipperary; Lucy Bourne,
Winchester; “Edythe,” Boscombe, Hants.
* * * * *
FIRST PRIZE ESSAY.
“WHEN MY SHIP COMES HOME.”
From childhood Harry Millbrooke resolved to marry Chatty Reeve when his
ship came home. Now, Chatty declines to face the drudgery and monotony
of domestic life. Harry regrets that she is influenced by her sister’s
family worries, but he will not say good-bye to the old dream. Chatty
determines to be a strong-minded spinster seeking her fortune in
London where employment on the staff of a journal is promised by Joan
Atherstone. Leaving Harry amidst the ruins of his fairy palace, she
bids farewell to Audrey Woodville whose ship has come home with a lover
who, after seven years’ absence, seeks his freedom. Audrey soars above
her own trial, warns Chatty that she will not find the wilderness a
paradise, and cheers Harry by assuring him that his ship will come home.
Chatty is disillusioned in London. The boarding-house is crowded. Some
of its inmates are noisy and selfish. Poverty and care are stamped
on all faces. Existence is a sad, despairing struggle. Joan forsakes
the office in the Strand for a bicycle tour, and leaves Chatty to
endure the burden of extra work in a stifling atmosphere. The country
girl pines for the fresh breezes and sparkling waves of Northsea.
She perceives the blessings she has cast away and the home she has
despised. Chatty is lonely when Phœbe goes to keep house for an uncle,
and after Esther’s wedding she feels an out-of-date regret that while
her friend is happy on the old lines, she is unhappy on the new.
The climax comes. Faint and bewildered in crossing the street, Chatty
regains consciousness in a hospital. When welcomed to her sister’s home
she has changed from a self-reliant girl to a reserved woman. Barbara
and Edward Purcell are very kind to her, and she resumes her post of
governess, but all the old ties cannot be renewed so easily. Harry
Millbrooke is in Copenhagen, and his mother has adopted pretty Etta
Churton. Chatty reflects with a sigh that when her ship came home she
sent it again to sea.
One balmy autumn day Harry returns and finds Chatty on the sea-shore.
“Has my ship come home?” he asks. The answer is, “Yes, with torn sail
and almost a wreck! But I know where my true haven is. I never want to
go back to the waves of this troublesome world. I am safe in port at
last.”
So this story, which our beloved authoress has woven round an
attractive title, depicts the spirit of the age—the cry for emancipated
womanhood, and ends to the happy music of wedding bells.
OUR NEXT STORY COMPETITION.
STORIES IN MINIATURE.
_Subject:_—“THE G. O. P. SUPPLEMENT FOR MARCH.”
THE DEAF GIRL NEXT DOOR.
BY HELEN MARION BURNSIDE (A DEAF WRITER), Author of “Her Highland
Laddie,” etc.
We offer three prizes of TWO GUINEAS, ONE GUINEA, and HALF-A-GUINEA
for the three best papers on our “Story Supplement” for this month.
The essays are to give a brief account of the plot and action of the
story in the Competitor’s own words; in fact, each paper should be a
carefully-constructed _Story in Miniature_, telling the reader in a few
bright words what THE GIRL’S OWN STORY SUPPLEMENT for the month is all
about.
One page of foolscap only is to be written upon, and is to be signed
by the writer, followed by her full address, and posted to The Editor,
GIRL’S OWN PAPER, in an unsealed envelope, with the words “Stories in
Miniature” written on the left-hand top corner.
The last day for receiving the papers is March 20th; and no papers can
in any case be returned.
* * * * *
_Examiners:_—The Author of the Story (Helen Marion Burnside), and the
Editor of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER.
* * * * *
[Transcriber’s Note—the following changes have been made to this text:
Page 350: artifical to artifical—“artificial flowers”.]