Just then the little hunting party came in sight, and some half dozen of
them, seeing the queen crying, ran forward to learn what had happened.
"What is the matter?" cried Alphonse, running up breathless.
"What's the matter?" repeated the king, petulantly; "I daresay you care
very much what's the matter; a pretty fellow you are to run off in that
style. Here's Pepitia--the queen, I mean--fallen down and hurt herself."
"Oh, poor thing!" said Amanda to Sophia; "she has hurt her nose, I
think."
"No, she hasn't hurt her nose, miss," said the queen, looking up from
her velvet train, for she had lost her handkerchief, and was wiping her
eyes on its satin lining; "and don't you call me 'thing' again, you
saucy puss."
"Lor, you needn't be so cross, Missis Queen," rejoined Amanda, making a
mock curtsey.
This retort produced a sharp altercation, in which several others
readily joined, and a dozen young voices were to be heard all speaking
at once. Their dispute, however, was not a very serious one, nor very
difficult to arrange; so when they had all become good friends, and when
the queen had left off crying, which she did on finding that her wounds
extended no further than a grazed elbow, the king inquired what sport
his companions had had.
"Oh, capital; look here!" replied Alphonse, showing a small ivory cage
containing about a score of butterflies. "Aren't they beauties?"
The butterflies were unanimously pronounced to be fine ones, and the
queen was expressing her admiration of them by a variety of
exclamations, when a little boy pushed his way into the crowd, and said,
"Oh! please queen, here's your crown; I found it among the bramble
bushes."
"Dear me," said Pepitia, "I quite forgot my crown!"
"Why, I've lost mine too!" cried the king, clapping his hand to his head
to feel for the crown, which ought to have been there but was not.
"I've got the king's crown! I've got the king's crown!" cried another
little fellow, running up from the other side of the dell.
"What a bother the crowns are," said Philip.
"Well, suppose we don't wear them any more to-day," suggested the queen.
"No more we will," replied he; "and we had better take off our trains,
for there is no running or doing anything in them, and then you won't go
tumbling over yours, Pepitia; we will lay them down here, and we can put
them on again when we are going home."
So the trains, crowns, ball, and sceptre were put together in the corner
of the dell, and then the king and the queen were ready for a good game
of play with the rest of the troop.
"Well, now, what shall we play at next? I'm tired of hunting
butterflies," said Alphonse.
A little voice suggested "Hunt the slipper."
"Oh, yes! that's right; let's play at hunt the slipper," cried all the
youngest, clapping their hands and jumping up and down.
"I don't care for hunt the slipper," objected Amanda.
"Besides, we have not got a slipper," said the queen, "and I'm sure none
of you shall take your shoes off, or you will catch cold."
"I wish we had a slipper," whimpered a little voice.
At that moment there popped down amongst them, as if it had been thrown
from some high tree, a high-heeled silver slipper, studded with rubies
and emeralds.
"Oh!" screamed all of them, starting back and forming a circle around
it, "where did that come from?"
"Isn't it a beauty!" said one.
"How it sparkles!" said another.
"Why don't you pick it up?" said Edmund, nudging the little Teresa, who
stood next to him.
"I'm afraid," said she. "It's alive, isn't it?"
"No; it won't hurt you," replied he. "Pick it up."
Half afraid, Teresa crept cautiously forward, and, stooping down,
reached out her hand to take up the treasure; but before she could touch
it, it bounded up with such a spring as caused her to scream and run
hastily back.
Then it jumped over Amanda's head, just tapped her on the shoulder, as
much as to say, "Come, catch me," and was lying some dozen yards off on
the other side of the group before any of them could have said "Peter
Piper."
"I know what it is," cried Alphonse; "it's a fairy slipper. The fairy
has sent it for us to play with."
"It's a fairy slipper! It's a fairy slipper!" they all cried. "Let's
hunt the fairy slipper!"
Off they started, the king and queen joining in the chase this time, and
enjoying it, being without their crowns and trains. Master Edmund was
foremost, but he overbalanced himself and lay sprawling on the ground,
whilst the slipper jumped up into a tree. Philip and Alphonse, being the
biggest boys, began immediately to climb up after it. But no sooner had
Alphonse reached the bough where it was perched than it sprang off,
rapped him on the nose, and slid down the opposite side of the tree,
giving the king's leg a sharp kick as it passed by.
"Where has it gone?" cried the two, rapidly descending the tree.
"I don't know," was the general rejoinder, uttered in chorus.
"There it is!" cried Ernest, "hopping across the meadow."
[Illustration: LUGANO. (_See page 90._)]
The whole troop raised a loud shout, and scampered off after it, the
biggest first, and the little ones running in the rear as fast as their
short legs would carry them, and hallooing with the loudest. The slipper
stood still till the foremost was within grasping, length of it, when it
gave a spring and got some yards in advance of the party, and then kept
on hop, hop, hopping before them; yet, although it did not seem to hop
very quickly, and although the young folks ran at the top of their
speed, it always managed to keep at a tantalising distance, so that
none of them could catch it, leading them a fine dance, up hill and down
dale, through hedges and across the stepping-stones of a little brook,
where many a wet shoe and sock were the result of its pranks. At last,
just as Edmund was about to lay hold of it--as he made sure to do--it
bounded to the top of a high, steep bank, and commenced doing the toe
and heel shuffle.
Well, it was a droll sight, certainly, to see that fairy slipper, with
all its sparkling jewels, dancing such a merry jig. I suppose because it
was so droll was the reason why the little folks laughed so loud, and
clapped their hands and jumped about as if they were mad.
Some of the bigger boys began to climb the bank in pursuit of the shoe,
whilst the little ones fancied they did a vast deal towards capturing it
by shouting with all their might; the louder they shouted the quicker
the shoe danced, and the quicker the shoe danced the more they clapped
their hands and laughed.
Alphonse climbed up a break in the bank, and so got to the top of it, a
little to one side of where the shoe was cutting its merry capers. He
crept softly along until he got within arm's length of it, then he made
a bold grasp and seized it by the heel; but he soon let it go again, for
a sharp, tingling pain ran up his arm to his shoulder, making him roar
out pretty loudly.
The slipper, as soon as it was released, spun round two or three times,
then, planting its heel on the ground and pointing its toe in the air,
it gave a spring and was out of sight in a moment.
"Where has it gone to?" was the cry of them all. They looked everywhere
for it, but did not find it. They shouted in chorus, "Come back, fairy
slipper, come back!" but no slipper came, and they were forced to go
home to their pretty houses without having found it, much to the regret
of little Teresa, who was near crying with vexation at having lost the
sparkling plaything.
They were all tired by when they reached their homes, and some of the
younger ones were very cross also, for their little legs were tired from
chasing the slipper, and they began crying for their mammas, so that the
poor Nomen had work enough to get them all to bed and soothe them to
sleep.
Now I cannot tell you whether these little folks would have continued
happy and contented on Child Island, and never have wished to leave it
for any other place, if they had had their mothers and fathers with
them. But not having them, there was something wanting, and by the end
of three weeks, or thereabouts, they were all heartily tired of being
away from home. Yet how to get back there was a difficulty that not even
wise Master Alphonse could solve. They had no boat to take them from the
island, and even if they had had one they would not have known how to
manage it, nor in which direction to guide it, as they were quite
ignorant of the whereabouts of Noviland.
So matters grew from worse to worse on the island, the elder children
getting more discontented and the younger ones more fretful, when one
day they were altogether on the lawn in front of the palace. The big
ones were moodily walking about, plucking the flowers and listlessly
pulling them to pieces, or throwing them away as soon as plucked; the
little ones, cross as two sticks, as nurses sometimes say, were getting
into all sorts of mischief. One had lost her shoe, and was whimpering
because she could not find it; a little boy had had his finger stung by
a bee, and was roaring lustily in consequence; Teresa had fallen full
length, with arms all bare, into a bramble bush, where she lay moaning
piteously.
"What are the children making that row for?" cried Philip, as cross as
the crossest himself; "for half a pin I'd box all their ears. Now then,
what's the matter with you, you little sniveller?" said he, catching
hold of a fair-haired little fellow, who was blubbering his loudest, and
who seemed bent on rubbing his eyes out by the way in which he was
screwing his little fists into them.
"I--I--want my--ma--a, let--me--go--o--to--my--ma," said he, with a sob
between each word.
"You can't go home to your ma, then," said Philip, sharply, giving the
child a shake; but this, instead of quieting, only made him roar louder,
and his example was soon followed by all the rest of his age, and then
there was a dismal chorus, the burden of which was, "Ma, ma, ma."
"Oh! dear, dear me," cried Pepitia, in real distress, "what shall we do
with these children? They'll drive me mad. I shall begin to cry myself
if they don't leave off. I wish the good fairy would come and take us
all home again!"
"Air balloon, air balloon!" shouted Alphonse, starting up from the
grass, where he had been lying on his back during all this confusion,
listlessly staring up to the sky.
This caused a sudden stop to the uproar, and the attention of all was
directed towards the sky. The bigger children waved their handkerchiefs
and shouted "Air balloon!" Some of the little ones joined in the cry,
and so forgot their sorrows, but others resumed their sobbing, and would
not care for balloons or anything else, but only wanted to go home to
their mothers.
The balloon came sailing onwards, seeming to grow larger and larger the
nearer it approached. Within its car sat the fairy Corianda. It slowly
descended in front of the palace, and whilst it rested on the ground
the fairy stepped out; then it re-ascended and floated about in the
air.
"Well, now! what is the matter with you all?" said the fairy, going
among the children and soothing the afflicted ones. "Why are you all so
sad and unhappy? Are you tired of being in this pretty island? and do
you really want to go back to Noviland?"
"Yes, yes; please take us home again," they all cried. "We have been
very happy here, but now we want to go home to our dear mammas and
papas. Please do take us home!"
"Very well," said the fairy; "as you wish it you shall all be back in
your own old homes to-morrow morning. So bid good-bye to Child Island,
and don't cry any more."
Then the fairy waved her hand, and immediately a silvery mist surrounded
them; the palace and the pretty houses became less and less distinct,
until there was only a faint and shadowy outline of them; then the mist
grew thicker, and each child became alarmed at finding itself separated
from all its companions, and on striving to call out it could not.
Thicker and thicker grew the mist until it was quite dark, and the
children, parted from each other, were bewildered and knew not where
they were.
Presently the mist gradually cleared away, and then, instead of Child
Island and the pretty houses, each child found itself in its own bed at
Noviland.
Eagerly that morning did they tell their fond parents of the good fairy
and Child Island, of the beautiful palace and pretty houses, of the tiny
musicians, the fairy slipper, and the strange Nomen. And as each little
tongue prattled its pretty tale, the parents smiled and said to each
other, "Truly our dear child has had a pleasant dream!"
But the children knew better; they knew there was a good fairy Corianda,
and that she had taken them to her magic isle, called Child Island.
E. HUNTER.
[Illustration: THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE. (_See page 90._)]
SCHOOL LUNCHEONS.
BY PHILLIS BROWNE, Author of "The Girl's Own Cookery Book."
The school arrangements of the present day are rather awkward for people
who are accustomed to take their meals at old-fashioned hours. When I
was a girl we used to be at school at nine in the morning, leave at
twelve-thirty, return at two-thirty, and leave again at four; and our
home lessons were a mere trifle. We went home to dinner in the middle of
the day, and there was no difficulty about "satisfying the keen demands
of appetite." But sometimes it rained unexpectedly, and on these
occasions fortune was kind to us. A few minutes before it was time to
start for home there would be a knock at the door, and a neat little
maid would appear bearing a basket, with a message from mother to the
schoolmistress, begging that we might be allowed to take dinner in the
schoolroom. Who can describe the delights of the feast? On the table
generally used for slates and copy-books the basket was solemnly opened.
We never knew what was coming, but it was certain to be good, and, best
of all, it was certain to be a surprise. First there was the snowy
napkin which was to serve as a table-cloth, then were the treasures
underneath. The glory of the experience came, however, when plates and
food were packed away, for then a "little recreation" was considered
necessary before lessons were resumed; and the "recreation," as a rule,
resolved itself into taking flying leaps over forms piled in
extraordinary positions one on the top of another, or alongside each
other. I am afraid it is not a very dignified confession for an elderly
matron to make, but those impromptu gymnastics on forms are amongst the
most delightful recollections of my childhood. The little girls of the
present day practise calisthenics, and perform wonderful feats with
ropes and giant strides; I hope they know something of the delight we
used to get out of our deftly-arranged forms.
As I have already said, however, afternoon school is a thing unknown to
the majority of the fortunate girls who attend our high schools and
collegiate establishments. According to present arrangements girls reach
school at half-past nine, and they remain till half-past one, having an
interval of half an hour between eleven and twelve for rest and
refreshment. Then the pupils separate, and the elder ones go home with
any amount of "home work" to prepare, while the younger ones remain at
school to learn their home lessons with the assistance of the teachers.
It is with the necessities of these young ones who remain that I am just
now concerned. Very often dinner is provided for them at the school, and
a few partake of it there under the superintendence of a teacher who is
told off for the duty. It is my experience, however, that only a small
proportion of the whole number of those who stay avail themselves of
this opportunity. Either the price charged is too high, or conversation
is too much restricted, or from some other reason girls for the most
part prefer to bring food with them "for luncheon," and postpone a
proper meal until they reach home.
Now it is a very bad thing for growing girls to go so long without a
proper meal. Supposing they have to be at school by half-past nine, it
is not unsafe to conclude that this means that breakfast is taken about
half-past eight, if not earlier. Leaving school at four or half-past, it
will not be likely that dinner, or the "meat tea," can be enjoyed before
half-past five. This long fast, broken only by eating an unsatisfactory
"snatch" of one sort or another, is likely to be very injurious to
health. Brain-workers need really to be better fed even than those who
work with their hands, because brain-work is exceedingly exhausting. If
it could be arranged that there should be half an hour's rest after
food, so that study should not interfere with the process of digestion,
why should not the "growing students" take a substantial luncheon with
them, and partake of it when the morning lessons are over? Really this
could be very easily managed. It only needs that there should be a
little forethought on the part of the home authorities; that sufficient
change of diet should be provided; that the luncheons should be freshly
prepared day by day; and that a convenient receptacle for conveying it
backwards and forwards should be procured; then every difficulty which
could be urged against the plan would be conquered. Added to this there
is the fact that children almost always enjoy food which is prepared for
them at home more than they enjoy food prepared by strangers; as a
regular thing, that is. There are to be bought now-a-days very handy
little tin sandwich cases with sides which fold down when empty, and so
occupy very little space. A good deal may be carried in one of these
tins, and it can be stowed away when done with in a corner of the book
bag, and the weight will scarcely be felt. Better still is one of the
small luncheon baskets which are to be seen in every fancy shop, and
which cost but a few pence. A basket three inches deep, three inches
wide, and six inches in length, could be made to hide away a most
diversified repast. A knife and fork, with a single plate could be
slipped into a strap in the lid, and there would be room also for a tiny
flask, whatever solid refreshment was decided on, and also one of those
dainty delicacies which serve to give piquancy and attractiveness to a
luncheon. There is no occasion to limit a meal of this sort to
sandwiches. Sandwiches are excellent when well made, and they can be
varied to any extent, but when indulged in day after day, and week after
week, they become monotonous.
If, however, sandwiches are to preserve their charm they ought not to
appear more than once a week, and they ought not to be made of similar
materials twice in two months. A sandwich is never so much appreciated
as when it is a surprise, and it certainly lends itself to surprises
more than any other preparation that can be named. There is no end to
the ingredients, the combinations, the appetising morsels which can be
introduced into a sandwich. Every sort of meat--tinned, potted, and
preserved, roast, boiled, and stewed; every kind of fish, flesh, and
fowl, can be used for it; while cheese, tomatoes, hard boiled eggs,
curries, and green stuff may be employed to lay between the thin slices
of bread and butter which form its distinguishing feature. To make
sandwiches good, all that is necessary is to bestow a little pains upon
them. Let the bread be only one day old, the butter sweet and
delicious, the meat cut up small, and the seasoning be judiciously and
intelligently introduced, and there is practically no limit to the
welcome changes of diet which may be presented under the general
term--sandwiches. Beef sandwiches, ham sandwiches, veal and ham
sandwiches, bacon, mutton, or game sandwiches, chicken sandwiches,
sandwiches made of anchovy and hard boiled eggs, of curried rabbit and
Parmesan, of curried shell-fish and Parmesan, of small salad, of sliced
tomatoes, of mushrooms, of roast fowl, lettuce and filleted anchovies,
of roast game, shred celery and Tartare sauce, of cooked fish, lettuce
leaves and Tartare sauce, of cold meat and thinly sliced cucumber or
gherkins, of roast game, tongue and aspic jelly, of the flesh of lobster
and mayonnaise, of hard boiled eggs and a very thin sprinkle of finely
shred tarragon, of potted hare, potted ham, or any potted meat, of
cheese, of devilled ham, of cold asparagus, with a suspicion of
mayonnaise, of brawn, of shrimps, of foie gras, of German sausage or
caviare and brown bread and butter, are a few varieties which may serve
to suggest others.
Tinned meats of all descriptions are much approved and largely
patronised by individuals who pride themselves on their capacity for
"putting up a bit of luncheon in half a minute." Tinned meats are all
very well for a change, no one values them in their proper place more
than I do, but it should be understood that they are abused when they
are employed constantly. For growing girls who are using their brains
fresh food is imperatively required, and one of the chief reasons why
these luncheons are to be recommended is that they afford a means of
furnishing wholesome and nourishing provision. Yet it must not be
forgotten that when fresh meat is not to be had, tinned provisions are
to be accepted with gratitude; and it is always wise, therefore, to keep
a supply on hand.
Trifles made of pastry are always acceptable for occasions of the kind
named. Small meat pies, if nicely made, are both appetising and
wholesome; the great point to be observed with regard to them is that
they should not be dry. Yet it is evident that if liquid gravy were put
into them, accidents might be expected, and therefore gravy which will
jelly when cold should always be provided, and poured in when hot
through a hole left in the pastry for the purpose. Small meat pies can
be made of every sort of meat, poultry, and game, the chief detail to be
looked after being the seasoning. In making trifles of this sort, girls
should not forget that nothing is more effectual in preventing
insipidity than a tiny scrap of onion. "Yet onion is objectionable to
many people." Of course it is when introduced in large quantities or in
large pieces, but if used in very small quantities, and chopped until it
is fine as dust, then sprinkled over the meat, it would dissolve
entirely, few would suspect that onion was present, and yet there would
be no danger that the pie would be tasteless. A little piece of onion
the size of a thumb-nail, chopped as small as possible, would be
sufficient to flavour two small meat pies four inches in diameter. And a
pie this size would be quite large enough for a purpose such as this.
Some time ago I gave a few hints as to the best method of making raised
pies, therefore I do not need to repeat them now. I may remind girls,
however, that one encouragement connected with the attempt is that small
pies are much more easy to make than large pies, and that there is
small fear of failure in connection with them. Equally acceptable will
be meat patties, Cornish pasties, mushroom pies, sausage rolls, &c. Hard
boiled eggs, too, are much liked by some people, and if fresh when
cooked, they make an agreeable change. It is scarcely necessary to say
that one or two slices from the breast of a chicken or duck will always
be welcome on an occasion of this sort, if pains be taken to keep these
meats from getting dry.
To an impromptu meal of this kind a simple "sweet" forms a most
agreeable conclusion, and really, when one comes to experiment in this
direction, it is astonishing what a variety of luxuries can be cooked
and conveyed in a cup or small basin, holding little more than half a
pint. Perhaps it may be helpful if I give recipes for a few of these
trifles. Before doing so I should like to suggest that in packing the
luncheon basket a little fruit, fresh or dried, should not be omitted.
Fruit is not only agreeable; it is, when taken in moderation, most
wholesome. It cannot be regarded as particularly nourishing, but it is
very cooling and refreshing, it assists digestion, and it possesses in a
high degree the power of counteracting any harm which may arise from the
use of preserved and tinned meats. It is almost inevitable that when
school luncheons are provided for any length of time, preserved
provisions will enter rather largely into their preparation. When
preserved provisions are taken there is always a little danger of skin
complications, and fresh fruit is the antidote for this condition.
Therefore fresh fruit should on no account be disregarded. When fresh
fruit cannot be had, dried fruits, such as raisins, figs, dates, and
French plums, are almost as valuable, and they are more nourishing.
Raisins, indeed, are most sustaining, and a celebrated physician said
recently that when he expected to have any specially exhausting work on
hand, he took a bunch of muscatels and found they did him more good than
a glass of wine. It is not at all an uncommon thing also for parents who
are anxious lest their daughters should become faint and weary, through
going too long without food, and who cannot arrange to provide them with
a well-packed luncheon basket, to make them form a habit of putting a
large bunch of table raisins into their pockets, with the intention that
these should be nibbled during what is called the interval, that is, the
short period of rest which is allowed at most schools during the
morning. The fruit thus enjoyed proves most invigorating. To gain the
full benefit which belongs to raisins it is necessary that the skin and
seeds should be rejected, because they are indigestible, and are apt to
produce disorders of the bowels, while the ripe luscious pulp is free
from these dangers. It would be well if parents could be convinced what
a valuable food the raisin is. As for dates, their nutritive value is
shown by the fact that they form the chief food of the Arabs; while
prunes and figs are used for their laxative tendency. Compotes of all
sorts of fruits and stewed Normandy pippins may be easily introduced
into the luncheon basket, if put into a wide-mouthed, well stoppered
bottle.
Now for two or three recipes:--
_Baked Custard Cup._--Boil the third of a pint of milk and pour it upon
a beaten egg. Add sugar and a little flavouring, turn the preparation
into a buttered cup, and set it in the oven in a shallow tin filled with
boiling water. Let it bake gently till firm; then take it out, and when
cold pack it in the basket. A couple of tablespoonfuls of stewed fruit
put into a small bottle is an excellent accompaniment to this cup.
_Cabinet Cup Pudding._--Soak a teaspoonful of gelatine in a dessert
spoonful of water. Make a little custard as above, with the third of a
pint of milk and one egg. Prepare a small mould by plunging it first
into hot water, afterwards into cold water. Take two savoy fingers and
four ratafias. Split the savoys in half and place them perpendicularly
round the mould to line it; break up the ratafias and put them also in
the mould. Dissolve the gelatine, stir it, when cool, into the sweetened
and flavoured custard, and pour this gently over the cakes. The mould
should be turned out for eating.
_Rice Cup._--Press warm rice, boiled with milk till well soaked and
stiff, into a buttered cup. Fruit syrup, stewed fruit, or sugar will be
suitable as an accompaniment. Ground rice, boiled in milk and mixed with
a teaspoonful of dissolved gelatine, makes a good rice cup.
_Apple Mould._--Soak a small teaspoonful of gelatine in a dessert
spoonful of water. Pare a couple of good sized baking apples; core them,
cut them into quarters, and put them, with a small strip of thin
lemon-rind, into a gallipot. Set this (covered) in a small stew-pan,
with boiling water to come half-way up the jar, and let the apples steam
until they fall. Lift out the lemon-rind and sweeten the apples.
Dissolve the gelatine, beat it up with the fruit, add a lump of sugar
and one or two drops of cochineal, and turn the preparation into a damp
cup. When cold and stiff it is ready.
_Coffee Mould._--Soak a teaspoonful of gelatine. Dissolve this and stir
it into a third of a pint of very strong, clear coffee. Boil for a
minute or two; add sugar, and, when cool, a little cream. Put the
preparation into a damp cup. One or two drops of vanilla may be added if
approved.
_Apricot Mould._--Soak a teaspoonful of gelatine. Take two halves of
apricot out of a tin of the preserved fruit. Crush them to pulp with the
back of a spoon, and mix with them three-quarters of a cupful of cream
or milk. Add sugar to taste. Dissolve the gelatine, mix it, when cool,
with the apricot, and mould when cold.
_Apple Custard._--Bake a large apple, remove the skin and core, and beat
the pulp with sugar and a squeeze of lemon-juice. Pour the third of a
pint of boiling milk upon one egg, add one lump of sugar. Put the apple
into a cup, pour the custard over, and set in a small baking-tin half
full of boiling water, to bake till the custard is firm in the centre.
_Bread Cup Puddings._--Soak one or two scraps of stale bread in milk to
soften them entirely. Beat them with a fork to a smooth, soft pulp, add
a slice of butter, a spoonful of moist sugar, a little vanilla essence,
a few currants, and one beaten egg. Three parts fill a buttered cup with
the mixture, and bake till firm.
A little well-flavoured jelly, broken up and put into a cup, will always
be a welcome addition to a repast of this description. The same may be
said of tartlets, turnovers, cakes of all descriptions, lemon
cheesecakes, &c. Fruit juice, sweetened agreeably and firmed with a
spoonful of dissolved gelatine, supplies a very delicious sweet. When a
pudding, cream, or tart is being made for the family, it is very easy to
take out a portion and cook it separately in a small glass or jar, to be
used for the school luncheon next day. Some girls would enjoy a morsel
of cheese and a sea-foam biscuit as a relish. A little trouble spent is
well worth while. We should not hear half so many complaints about
over-study and over-pressure, if girls attending school had a good
luncheon in the middle of the day; and before mothers and elder sisters
make up their minds that a girl is doing too many lessons, and that the
teacher must be asked to excuse a portion thereof, they ought to
consider whether they are doing all that is possible to furnish the
young student with food which will give her strength to make the most of
the precious opportunities for improvement which will be gone all too
soon.
One important detail connected with school luncheons must not be
forgotten. It is that the luncheon-basket or sandwich-tin must be kept
sweet and pure. It ought to be scrubbed out frequently, and every day as
soon as it is brought home it should be emptied, cleansed, and put, wide
open, in an airy place, to prevent its becoming close and musty. If
crumbs or little pieces of fat are allowed to work their way into the
crevices, they will surely impart an unpleasant, stuffy odour to the
food which is put into the basket afterwards, and the annoyance will not
easily be got rid of. Unless scrupulous cleanliness be observed in
everything connected with the preparation of food, delicacy and
refinement must be regarded as entirely out of the question.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
MISCELLANEOUS.
PINEAPPLE.--An ordinary afternoon garden and tennis party might be held
in September if the weather were fine.
GILLESPIE.--Most stationers keep very pretty _menu_ cards now, which can
be filled in by hand with the names of the guests and the dishes.
X. Y. Z.--Press the flowers in blotting-paper, which should be
frequently changed.
REXIE.--We are much obliged for your impromptu verses on the G. O. P.,
and for your good wishes also.
RAY MAJENDIE.--The warts may be touched with a stick of lunar caustic.
You had better get a doctor to do it if they be very bad. The 8th July,
1867, was a Monday.
K. T. S.--The digestion is weak and the circulation is affected. You
should consult a doctor about it.
POMPS AND VANITIES.--The maidenhair fern was probably chilled in some
way; it needs warmth and dampness. Your education should be quite
completed before you think of society and its distractions. When you are
twenty (about) will be time enough. Do not write to us again on blue
paper with blue ink, please.
ASPHODEL.--We sympathise much with you, but we cannot advise you to have
anything done to your face. The result is generally a bad scar. Use a
little harmless powder (magnesia), and try to forget it as much as
possible, and fix your thoughts on better things.
A. WALTERS.--The passion-flower bears that name on account of its
several characteristics, which, combined together, seem to symbolise the
following appliances and circumstances connected with our Lord's death
and passion. The leaves, the spear; the tendrils, the cords with which
He was scourged and bound; the ten petals, the ten apostles who deserted
Him; the central pillar, the cross; the stamens, the hammers, the
styles, the nails; the inner circle round the central pillar, the crown
of thorns; the radius round it, the nimbus of glory; the white in the
flower, an emblem of innocence and purity; the blue, a type of heaven.
The fact that it remains open three days and then dies, denotes the
death, burial, and resurrection of the Lord. We partly copy from the
_Watchword_.
LILIAN VAUGHAN.--The Editor of the G. O. P. has nothing to do with the
publishing department of the Religious Tract Society. Write to Mr. Tarn.
EBNOCNUB.--The term "bumpkin" is of Dutch origin, taken from the word
_boomken_, meaning "a sprout," "a fool." It signifies a loutish person,
and is applied to a country clown, not a woman.
CHERRY PIE.--A good run over the downs, or a canter on a donkey, not
only circulates the blood, but make the lungs work well. But you should
beware of cooling quickly afterwards, and of sitting in a draughty or
windy place.
FLORENCE.--As the swelling in your hands is constitutional, your general
health needs very strict attention, as there must be a good deal amiss.
You should live generously, eat heat-making food, take a tonic of a
preparation of iron, and wear woollen under-garments next the skin.
MRS. SWEET tells us she has "asked most important things," which, alas!
we seem to have overlooked, and certainly have forgotten. We are very
sorry, dear little Mrs. Sweet-tooth, and are glad that your kind pa and
ma "like your writing and think it has improved." Try to remember that
you must not steal an "e" from the poor little word "please." We shall
be glad to hear from our small friend again, and hope that her next
letter will not be so long in turning up to the top of our great
mountain of letters.
LOCHABER.--Dante was unquestionably greater as a poet and man of genius
than Goethe; but we could not draw such a comparison between the lady
novelists you name; their styles were very different and equally
meritorious.
FELIX.--You had better apply to the editor of _Parodies_, care of
Messrs. Reeves and Turner, Strand, London, W.C., as we have not leisure
to make the search for you.
S. F. S. T. C.--It is quite natural and harmless to appreciate the
regard and love of those around you. If kind and true and helpful to
them, and you maintain your own self-respect in all your words and
actions, they must value and respect you. Your writing is good. It is
inexpedient to repeat the impertinent assertions of those who have not
sufficient powers of discernment between the painstaking replies to our
thousands of correspondents and what they are pleased to designate "a
hoax."
DAISY LAYLOR.--Lettuce leaves can only serve as a _pis aller_, or
"makeshift" as food for caterpillars before the mulberry leaves come
out, just to save them from starvation; but the latter is their natural
and proper food, and yours are probably dying from want of them.
G. D. C.--You should write to some of the great shipping firms owning
passenger vessels for all such particulars. Rules and terms vary a good
deal, and to give those of one firm would not enlighten you in reference
to others. You ought to understand the duties of a lady's-maid, and be a
good sailor.
NAUGHTY ONE should ask her music teacher whether she should continue her
practising during the visit or whether she would prefer her to desist
for a time. Give her the option; politeness demands it.
BRIGTON.--Your verses show a good deal of poetic feeling, although
without any special indication of originality of thought. The verses
entitled "Morning" ought to have rhymes, as it is not blank verse. You
ought to study the rules of metrical composition before putting your
thoughts into metre. This is as essential to the construction of verse,
as to be acquainted with those of harmony or counterpoint, before
attempting to compose music.
NELLIE P.--We do not know of any hospital specially instituted for the
cure of chronic indigestion. Probably the best cure for you would be
found in treatment at certain mineral baths. On this point you should
obtain medical advice. Those of Vichy (France) or Carlsbad (Bohemia),
Aix-la-Chapelle, or some of our own, might be suitable for you. But we
could not venture to prescribe, neither knowing you nor being doctors.
MARY KINGSLEY.--1. The people of God in all ages, before and after the
commencement of the Christian Era, form one great brotherhood, sharing
the same interests, fighting the same "fight of faith," one in hope, in
aim, and in spiritual sympathy, as children of the same Divine Father.
Thus, they are in communion one with another, and there is really an
unbroken bond of union between those who have gone before, and those
still waiting here. 2. Persons who tell characters from handwriting
advertise.
INQUISITIVE ONE.--1. Soap spoils sponges. Even clean water should be
well squeezed out of them, and then they can be cleaned with sponge
powder, obtained from a chemist. Dry toothbrushes thoroughly, and place
them in the tray made for them. A little soda or bran in the water will
soften it. 2. Your writing is good, but you should learn to write in
straight lines.
SISSIE B.--It is your duty to speak to your father about your brother of
twelve, who runs away for whole days up till past midnight, smokes, and
gets into bad company. He ought to be sent to a boarding school, or else
apprenticed at once, or he will go to ruin. His example is ruining his
brothers. Tell your father that if you could manage them you would
neither complain of chance acts of insubordination nor of the trouble
you willingly take with them; but, as you find you have no control over
them, you must tell him so before they are ruined.
INQUISITIVE.--The average duration of human life is increasing to the
extent of five per cent., or more than two years, since the computation
made in Dr. Farr's life tables. The duration of life amongst women has
increased to a greater degree than that of men, and this may be
attributed to the greater attention paid to hygienic principles and the
new discoveries made in this direction.
LILY OF THE VALLEY.--Surround the plants with a circle of lime, and
water them with tobacco-juice. The latter must, of course, be well
washed before use. Handwriting not formed.
SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACHER.--No, Robert Raikes was the originator of the
present organised system which obtains in England, and the idea
originated in his work amongst the criminals in prison, their early
religious instruction appearing to him the best preventive measure
towards ensuring their never becoming so fallen. But the Sunday
instruction of children dates back to about the year 1580, Cardinal St.
Charles Borromeo having introduced it at Milan, and in the following
century (1693) his example was followed by the Rev. Joseph Alleine; by
the Rev. David Blair, at Brechin, in about the year 1760. Then followed
the Rev. Theodore Lindsey, at Catterick, Yorkshire, about three years
later; and, lastly, and with a more perfect organisation, Robert Raikes,
the printer of Gloucester, with the co-operation of the Rev. Thomas
Stock, some seventeen years later. The Sunday School Union was founded
nine years before his death, in 1802.
SUNSHADE.--To work a flower upon a sunshade, you must unpick the
material from the frame sufficiently to iron the embroidery on the wrong
side when finished, otherwise the work will look pulled. We should
recommend white flowers, such as large daisies and Japanese anemones.
The sun fades coloured silks when worked in exposed places, and white
will always combine well with any other part of the dress.
MARGUERITA.--As you have left home to support yourself, you are no
longer chaperoned by your mother, and your position is quite changed.
You must now have a card to yourself, and if the persons on whom you
call be out, you may leave one or more as needed; but if your friends be
at home, do not on any account leave cards, but, if at home to you, go
in and see them.
[Illustration: ENGROSSED.]
MACRAME.--1. The rose-leaves designed for drying must be gathered on a
dry hot day and laid in the sun until they have shrivelled. They should
be placed in jars with dried lavender, cloves, woodruff leaves,
orris-root, musk, pimento, and gums; a little salt must be added, and
the ingredients stirred. 2. To prevent gnats from biting, bathe the
face, neck, and hands with vinegar and water before going into the
garden or under trees, or near water, and before going to bed. Shut the
windows early, and destroy all that settle upon them. Put your candle
outside the door, which should be left partially open, while undressing,
and shut the door quickly when you take in the candle. Ammonia cures the
irritation of gnat and mosquito bites.
ALTOUR.--A man has the power of leaving all his property, that is not
settled on his children nor entailed, to his wife, and may likewise give
her the power of appointment, which means that she may give or leave it
to the children in unequal proportion--a shilling to one and all the
rest of the property to another--just as they may deserve to be treated.
When any of the children are undutiful and likely to give the widow
trouble, this placing her in his own position gives her the needed power
over the unruly. Should a man die intestate, the widow is entitled to a
third of his property, and the remainder goes to the children in equal
shares.
LOUISE.--Moths usually come from damp. Keep woollen materials and furs
in a dry place (in a cedar trunk, if you have one), and lay camphor
between the folds of the former. Take the woollen cloths out
occasionally and shake them well.
FORGET-ME-NOT should remain at school till eighteen, if her parents can
afford it. In any case, she has much to learn at home before her
education will be completed--household economy, nursing, cookery, and
every branch comprised in perfecting herself as a mother's help at home,
the sweetest occupation in life!
COMME TOUJOURS.--1. The books of Esdras are apocryphal; the books of
Ezra and Nehemiah are inspired, and are included in the canonical
Scriptures. 2. Under Edward VI., a confession of faith was drawn up by
Cranmer and Ridley, 1551, approved by the king and a commission of
divines, which was published in forty-two articles, but was not approved
by convocation, and a new confession was drawn up by Archbishop Parker,
under Elizabeth, when some articles were rejected, and the whole was
composed of thirty-nine.
COLLEEN.--Your verses show some promise; but we do not see why the
supposed kiss of the "Christ Child" should have proved death to the
baby. If one publisher declines taking your book, try another.
Literature is a trying profession, full of disappointments; yet first
books are not always failures. Write what is useful, and on ground
little occupied by others.
JACKY and CHARLEY.--Have you no feeling of self-respect and maidenly
reserve? or is your letter a feeble attempt at a dull joke? The first
question you ask is very silly indeed. What makes anyone's hair curl?
Either nature in flattened formation of each tube, or the use of
curling-paper or hot irons.
M. F. F.--Use tweezers, and accept our good wishes for your success.
GRATEFUL ALICE.--Anyone on a visit only, or in the employment of the
proprietor of a house in which he or she resides, should have their
letters addressed first to themselves, and underneath their own name
should be that of the owner of the house--their host or hostess, master
or mistress. Under a guest's name you should write "care of So-and-so,"
and under a servant's name "At John Robinson's Esq.," or "At Mrs. John
Robinson's." You write a pretty hand, and your letter does you credit.
F. H. EDWARDS.--1. Our Blessed Lord was about thirty years of age when
His ministry began. See St. Luke iii. 23. The general opinion as to the
duration of that ministry has undergone some change. It was supposed to
have been about three years, but we believe that the learned are now
inclined to think that it was somewhat longer. It would be more reverent
to say "the Lord Jesus." 2. We advise you to place your steel engraving
in the hands of a skilful picture-restorer.
FLORENCE.--Your first business should be to complete your English
education. Learn geography, and study maps thoroughly; study English
grammar, and learn the first three rules in arithmetic; also read some
good English history; over and above, any study of harmony or mere
accomplishments. Our girls do not seem to reflect on the labour entailed
on the Editor, and the time he has to give up in judging between, as
well as reading, some four or five thousand competition papers.
CECMAC should consult a dentist, and avoid wet feet, as the least
dampness of the feet affects the teeth.
MARY KENDAL should read Bishop Mant's "Happiness of the Blest," and
should also consult some clergyman for advice. Her questions are not
suitable to our columns, which are not intended for controversy.
APPLE BLOSSOM.--If you be a steady quiet girl, we should advise you to
choose the Civil Service.
HERALDRY.--The crest is a dragon's or wyvern's head, erased. The dragon
is very common in heraldry. It is supposed to have been brought into
England by the Teutonic knights, who have migrated here. It did not
originate in England.
BESSIE.--St. Hilda founded her double house for nuns and monks at
Streoneshalk in 657 A.D. In 867 the Danes burnt her abbey, and changed
the name to Whitby, or Priest-by (white, or priest's house). The abbey
was refounded, for monks only, under the Benedictine rule, in 1073, by
William de Percy. The nuns in Scott's "Marmion" are mythical ones. The
Ammonites of the Scar are said to be headless snakes turned into a coat
of stone by St. Hilda's prayers.
IVY.--The Lord Chancellor's office is at the House of Lords. There is a
private secretary, a permanent secretary, and a secretary of commissions
and of presentations. Letters should be addressed as above.
MARGUERITE.--1. The name "Epipsychidion," given by Shelley to a poem, is
a diminutive for "Epipsyche," "on the soul." If so, it means "a little
thing" (whether poem or essay) "on the soul." Your second question has
been many times answered. 2. Read "Dinners in Society," page 314, vol.
ii., and "The Habits of Polite Society," page 162, vol. iii. Never,
under any pretext, put a knife to your mouth. Cut a small piece of bread
and place the cheese on it, and convey it thus.
ROSE WALNUT.--In addressing an archdeacon, you should say Mr.
Archdeacon ----; that is his proper title and style. You say, "which is
the most fashionable hand-writing," etc., but do not name those to which
you refer. It should be small, roundish (without angles), without
spidery tails and flourishes; and it should slope from right to left.
READER OF THE G.O.P.--We regret we cannot help you. We suppose you must
apprentice your daughter in the usual way.
PORTIA.--The use of curling-irons is likely to dry and wither the hair.
Many burn the hair in using them. The "oe" in Goethe should be
pronounced as the French word, _moeurs_. Our English letters would not
produce the sound.