SUNSHINE.
It was a balmy day at the end of April, and in the great conservatory
at Monckton Manor a little group of people had established themselves
amongst the tall ferns and flowers, and girlish voices and laughter
mingled with the plash of the fountain in the centre of the warm
fragrant place.
Upon a cane lounge lay Oscar, white and thin, and frail of aspect, yet
with something of the vigour and animation of returning health, which
was very visible to those who had watched tremblingly beside him during
the weeks of his tedious illness.
Sheila and May Lawrence sat near him, chatting with the ease and
familiarity of an intimate friendship. It had long been May’s most
cherished plan that so soon as Oscar should be strong enough for the
move, he should be transported to Monckton Manor; and her mother had
fallen in with the idea so soon as she had been assured on medical
testimony that there was no fear of his bringing infection into the
house.
So a fortnight ago the move had been made, and out in the pure fresh
air of the country, away from the noise and bustle of the streets and
a busy household, Oscar had made a fresh start, and had surprised
everybody by the rapidity with which he gained ground.
For a week past he had almost lived in the conservatory, which, with
its evenly regulated atmosphere, its sweet flower scents and the
sensation of airiness and freshness, was almost like a new world to the
invalid. He felt as though he were living out of doors “in Madeira,” as
he would smilingly say; and then he and May would get Sheila to tell
of beautiful Madeira, its rainbows, its flowers, its sunshine and long
cloudless days; and Oscar would lie listening and dreaming, till he
felt as though he were living the life there himself.
And Sheila, talking with absolute freedom to the brother with whom
she had always shared her thoughts, and from whom she had never kept
a secret, and to the girl-friend whom she now felt as though she had
always known, soon talked away every bit of bitterness or vexation,
and would enjoy a hearty laugh with her companions over the little
weaknesses of her aunt, and think instead of her devotion to her
daughter, which had led her into some comical errors. Since Sheila had
learned to forget herself, to lose the sense of her own little wrongs,
to feel everything merged in the great ocean of the unchangeable love
which had wrapped her round in the hour of her keenest need, and had
given her back her brother from the very gates of the grave, it had
been so easy to forgive and forget. All the bitterness had been washed
away. She was ashamed to think how angry she once had been. Everything
else had looked so small, so insignificant, when seen in the light
of the solemn realities of life. And although now the graver mood
had passed, and with a rebound of nature, Sheila was her own bright
laughing self again, yet there was a new sweetness in her smile, and
new softness in her manner, and Oscar would lie and look at her in a
great content, wondering what the change was and whence it had come.
“Here is North!” cried Sheila, suddenly springing up to get a better
view through the palm leaves, whilst a bright flush suddenly rose in
May’s cheeks, and the light leaped into her eyes. “I suppose he has
come to see Oscar; really he is wonderfully attentive just now. He
comes very often.”
May’s eyes were dancing, as she looked eagerly towards the advancing
figure; and though his errand was ostensibly to ask for the invalid, it
was to her face that his eyes first leapt as he made his way towards
them.
Oscar had no need to expatiate upon his progress, his face spoke for
him, and North looked satisfied and pleased.
“My father wants to see you, Oscar, when you are a little stronger. He
has several things to say to you. That bit of mystery about the bill
has all been cleared up. He wants to speak of it to you once, and then
bury the miserable business in oblivion.”
Oscar’s colour came and went. Sheila clasped her hands together in
excitement, and May’s flush deepened in her cheeks as she asked softly—
“Shall I go away whilst you talk it over?”
But North shook his head.
“There is no need for that, I think. You are Sheila’s friend, and I
expect you know all that we have done for some while. Of course, it
is very painful for us, but the truth must not be ignored. Suspicion
cannot be permitted to attach to Oscar. Even though Cyril is my
father’s son, he must not be screened at the expense of another.”
“I am so sorry!” breathed May softly.
“Yes; it has been a heavy blow to both my father and mother. The chief
hope is, that having had his eyes thoroughly opened, my father may see
that a different method must be pursued with Cyril. Temptation has come
to him through opportunity. If the conditions are changed, things may
be better, for he is, I trust, sincerely ashamed and repentant at last.
It has been a miserable business looking into his affairs this past
year, but we have got to the bottom of things now, and I feel sure his
eyes have been thoroughly opened, and our mother’s grief has touched
his heart. I hope this is the end of trouble.”
“Oh, I hope so—I do hope so!” breathed Sheila softly.
“And I was still to blame,” said Oscar. “I ought never to have let the
money out of my hands.”
“Well, so I say,” answered North, with a smile, “but my father
exonerates you even there. He says that he would not have hesitated
to place it in Cyril’s hands himself, and would have taken a receipt
from him without scrutiny; and he cannot blame you for what he would
have done himself without a thought. However, that can rest now. What
my father wishes is to come and see you, afterwards to briefly explain
the matter in the office to those who know the circumstances, during
Cyril’s absence, and then to try and forget the whole business and
speak of it no more.”
“Is Cyril going away?” asked Sheila quickly.
“Yes, for a time; and to Madeira first. Our uncle has just written,
inviting him rather pressingly. It seems that he has been rather bitten
by the tales of travel he has heard from the visitors there, and he
wants to see a little more of the world before returning home. Aunt
Cossart and Effie do not share this desire, and they will shortly come
home together in the mail; but he wants to go to the Canary Islands,
and then take a boat for the Mediterranean, and see some of the African
ports, and Spain and perhaps something of Italy, before he gets back;
and he wants Cyril for his travelling companion.”
“Fancy Uncle Cossart turning into a globe-trotter!” cried Sheila
merrily. “But how nice for Cyril!”
“Yes, it seems just the thing for the time being. He will be better
away for a little while, and we shall know that he is in safe keeping.
My father will write a full account of everything to our uncle—that
is only right. But he has always been a favourite with them, and they
will be glad to help us out of a present difficulty by taking him off,
away from his old companions, and giving him something to do in playing
courier to Uncle Cossart. Cyril is a good traveller and speaks several
languages with a fair fluency. He is as much pleased with the prospect
as he could be with anything in his present frame of mind.”
“And are Aunt Cossart and Effie coming home?” asked Sheila with
interest.
“Yes, by the next mail after Cyril arrives there. Effie is so much
better that there is no need to keep her out any longer, and our aunt
is beginning to tire of hotel life, and to want to get back to her
own home again. She wants you and Oscar to be there to welcome them,
Sheila; and invites Oscar for the whole summer. She thinks he would be
much better a little way out of the town after his illness, even when
he is well and at the office again; and she says that the dog-cart or a
riding horse will always be at his disposal to take him backwards and
forwards.”
“Oh, how kind of her!” cried Oscar, with a look of animation and
pleasure in his face; and Sheila felt her own cheeks growing hot. She
remembered her angry words of a few months back—“I will never forgive
Aunt Cossart. I will never, never live at Cossart Place again!”—and a
wave of self-reproach and humility swept over her, as she realised how
hasty she had been in judging and condemning.
Her aunt might not always be very wise, or even quite just; but she was
very kind of heart. If her fondness for her daughter made her foolish
sometimes, she could show at others a very tender consideration and
thoughtfulness.
“It would be splendid for Oscar,” she said softly; “I should like to
send a letter to Aunt Cossart by Cyril. I’m afraid I have not always
been quite nice to her and Effie; but I will try to be better now.”
Oscar flashed a look at her that brought sudden tears to her eyes,
and May, seeming to divine that they wanted to talk to each other,
suggested that North should come and see the daffodils in the copse;
they were looking so lovely in this flood of spring sunshine.
“Oh, Oscar,” cried Sheila, as soon as they were alone, “I do feel so
ashamed!”
He knew what she meant, and answered smiling—
“Well, you know, it was rather hard lines on you after all; and you
only let fly to me. Nobody else knows; and you tell me you said hardly
anything to Aunt Cossart before leaving.”
“No, I was too angry, too miserable. I knew if I talked I should cry.
But, oh, how furious I was with her in my heart!”
“That was bad; but we all have our falls. You have not been furious now
for a long while; and I hope you will not be tempted again.”
“Oh, I hope not—I hope I know better. But, Oscar, if it had not been
for your being ill directly, and everything else going out of my head,
I should have talked to Ray and everybody as I did to you. My head was
full of the things I meant to say; and how I never, never, never would
go to Cossart Place, or be with Effie, or do anything they wanted me
to any more! Think if I had had it all out to them; and then this kind
letter from Aunt Cossart, thinking of such a splendid plan for you! Oh,
how miserable and ashamed I should have been. I am rather now; but it
would have been ten times worse then!”
“Yes; so I suppose we had better try and learn to keep our hot angry
thoughts to ourselves,” said Oscar thoughtfully, “and fight them down,
and see what they are really like before we try and let fly! Looking
back at things, I’ve often been sorry for speaking hastily; but I don’t
think I’ve ever been sorry for holding my tongue, when it would have
been rather a satisfaction to let it run away with me!”
“My tongue was always a more unruly member than yours, Oscar,” said
Sheila with a smile and a sigh, “but I will try to keep it more under
control; and, oh, it will not be difficult when we are together. We
shall have such lovely times up there. It really is a nice place; only
it was dull before. But if you are there every evening, it will always
be something to look forward to. And oh, Oscar, isn’t it good that
you are cleared! I had almost forgotten that—because I think in the
end nobody at home believed it of you. But I am so glad uncle knows
everything; though how could Cyril do it?”
“I suppose he was very much tempted. I am afraid he got into bad
company and was in great straits lest exposure should follow. It is
easy for us who are not tempted in that way to be very much horrified;
but we have our own falls into our besetting sins. That should make us
very careful how we judge other people. Should we do better in like
case?”
Sheila was silent and thoughtful; she could not believe for a moment
that her brother could ever fall into such a transgression; but it came
to her that probably Cyril had not fallen all at once, but had given
way little by little to what seemed like venial sins, till at last it
had been easy to commit one from which at the outset he would have
shrunk in horror.
“Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer!” The words seemed to be
spoken in her ear; and she realised with a start of shame and horror
her own spasms of bitter hatred. If she had given way to her impulses
of anger, if she had blindly followed her own impulsive thoughts and
purposes, what family breach might not have taken place—what bitterness
might not have been aroused? In her heart—in the sight of God—she might
have been a murderer!
She buried her face in her hands, and was silent; and Oscar, who was
also very thoughtful, spoke no word. He was thinking himself to what
proportions his own carelessness and shiftlessness might have grown,
had it not been that the sharp lesson met with had pulled him up short.
It seemed long before the other pair rejoined them; and then North had
only time to say a hasty farewell and walk off to the works again. He
had stolen an opportunity when things were a little slack to make his
visit; but he wished to be back before closing time.
“Oscar must have his beef-tea and a nap,” May decreed with an air of
sovereignty which became her well. “Ah, and here it comes. And then
you and I will take a stroll together, Sheila. It is so lovely out of
doors!”
The excitement of North’s visit had disposed Oscar for a rest now that
it was over, and he settled himself contentedly after he had taken his
kitchen physic. The two girls left him to sleep, and passed out into
the sunshine together.
Sheila talked eagerly of the future and her delight in having Oscar
with her for the summer. May assented cordially and gladly; but went
off into a brown study afterwards, giving her answers at random. At
last Sheila stopped short laughing and looked at her. Something in her
face bespoke such a vivid happiness that she was half startled.
“May, what is it? What has happened?” she asked; and the smile which
broke over May’s face was brighter than the sunshine itself.
“That is what I want to tell you. That is what I got you out here for.
I am the happiest girl in all the world. North has told me that he
loves me. He has asked me to be his wife!”
(_To be continued._)
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.
GIRLS’ EMPLOYMENTS.
_DOMESTIC SERVICE.—“I am a lady by birth and up-bringing, but I have
always had a sincere desire to be a domestic servant. I should choose
a housemaid’s position, as I am fond of housework. When I was a child,
playing with my dolls, I always took the part of servant, and, as
I have grown older, every story that I could get that had anything
about servants in it I have read and re-read. I have tried two other
occupations, but have failed for various reasons, and believe I should
succeed better as a servant. How could I be trained in a housemaid’s
duties? Must I go as an under-housemaid first of all?_
“CATHERINE NANCY.”
Evidently “Catherine Nancy” has a distinct vocation for domestic
work, and she would therefore do wisely to follow her natural bent.
The important question a girl should ask herself in choosing a career
is “What is the best class of work that I am likely to be able to do
successfully?” For instance, there are conceivable cases in which
a girl might feel that she would make a good dressmaker or a good
painter; we should then consider that, if no difficulties presented
themselves on the pecuniary side, the painter’s profession should be
chosen. Girls nowadays often fall into one of two errors; either they
try to do work which stands highest in human esteem and fail because
they have not the power to do it, or, from reasons of over-modesty or
indolence, they choose to perform mechanical and subordinate work, when
with a little effort and determination they could rise to something
better. But among girls of the middle class the first mistake, the
mistake of over-ambition is the more usual. To return to the practical
problem set us by our correspondent, we think there is every argument
in favour of “Catherine Nancy’s” entering domestic service. Formerly
no doubt there might have been an objection that “Catherine Nancy”
would be cut off from association with friends of her own class; but
this difficulty is rapidly disappearing. “Catherine Nancy” may like
to be informed that “lady servants” are now in great demand, and that
employers are often willing to make important concessions in order to
obtain them. Many persons employ only ladies in their service, while
others are often willing to give training to a well-educated girl in
return for services. “Catherine Nancy” could very probably be received
into some clergyman’s or other nice household on the footing we have
mentioned. It may be worth while to remind “Catherine Nancy” that it
might be desirable later to rise from the position of housemaid to that
of parlourmaid. The duties of a parlourmaid, comprising as they do
the showing-in of visitors, waiting at table and polishing the plate
and glass, are peculiarly suitable for a ladylike girl to perform.
But it would be time enough later to consider the advisability of
such a change as this, and in any case it would be well to begin as a
housemaid. We recommend “Catherine Nancy” to advertise for a situation
as housemaid in a house where lady-servants are employed.
_LAUNDRY WORK.—“Is there any place where I could obtain lessons in
laundry work? I need to earn some money, and I think I could obtain the
washing for one family; but though I wash well, I do not think I am a
sufficiently good ironer at present.—C. M.”_
“C. M.” could be well taught in the Battersea, Borough Road, or Regent
Street, Polytechnic. The last would be most convenient for her in point
of locality, but by inquiry at some Board School in her neighbourhood
she might hear of evening classes being held still nearer to her home.
This would be decidedly advantageous, as omnibus fares from north-west
London, where she lives, would cost money, which we are sure from her
letter she could ill afford to spend. For some reasons we should have
thought it better for “C. M.” to take employment in some large steam
laundry until she has learnt all departments of the work thoroughly,
for she is doubtless reluctant to leave home for many hours at a time.
May we express to “C. M.” our admiration for the thrift displayed in
the little account she gives us of her expenditure. There are not many
couples who would attempt to spare out of 22s. a week, 2s. 6d. for
insurance and sick pay, and 2s. for an aged relative. But we cannot
doubt that people who enter on married life in this spirit, determined
to be both thrifty and generous, will not want for means or help in
days to come.
_DRESSMAKING QUESTION.—“I wish to place a lady, aged twenty-one, in
some business or profession to enable her to earn a living. She leans
to dressmaking. Do you recommend that trade? How long will it take to
learn it in all its branches? What premium will have to be paid by an
outdoor apprentice? Presuming that she studies for two years, what
ought she to be able to earn at the end of that time? What would be the
hours of work of an apprentice who paid a premium? Can you recommend a
firm of dressmakers in Brighton who teach?—STOKE.”_
To anyone with a taste for dressmaking we undoubtedly recommend the
business. We receive intimations continually of good openings for women
to establish themselves as dressmakers. We will reply to “Stoke’s”
numerous questions in their order. In two years a girl ought to be
able to obtain a fair all-round knowledge of dressmaking; but she must
be careful to insist on being taught the work of each department, as
in some firms there is a tendency to keep a girl at one kind of work
only. An outdoor apprentice is not usually asked to pay a premium,
but is expected to give services for some little time. The length of
this period of free service varies greatly, as much according to the
custom of the firm as the ability of the young dressmaker. In any case
the outdoor apprentice is not likely to receive more than a shilling
or two a week during any portion of the first year. What she would
receive at the end of two years is most difficult to foretell, so much
depending on the amount of aptitude she had developed in the meantime.
The average wages of employees in London dressmaking businesses are,
resident fitters, £40 to £100 a year; experienced bodice-hands, 16s. to
20s. a week; ordinary bodice-hands, 12s. to 15s. a week; assistants,
8s. to 10s.; skirt-hands, 8s. to 18s. It is probable that she would
have to begin as an improver at 8s. A fashionable and well-paying firm
in the West End that is known to us pays its out-workers 11s. to 18s.
a week. The maximum fee to indoor hands is £2. Dressmakers’ hours are
regulated by the Factories and Workshops Act. The regular day, that
is to say, is one of twelve hours, including meal-times. A good deal
of overtime is unfortunately worked during the season. An apprentice,
whether paying a premium or not, would be expected to work these hours;
but it is possible she might be excused the overtime, if special
conditions to that effect were made at the time of engagement. We do
not happen to be able to recommend a firm of dressmakers in Brighton.
_EMIGRATION.—“Will the Australian Agents-General be sending out any
more girls from this country to Australia this year, on the same terms
as last year? I am a general servant, getting £20 a year. Could I do
better in Australia? Do they treat their servants better out there than
here? I do not like service, but am very fond of housework and do not
mind what I do. Would you recommend the Cape or Canada in preference to
Australia? I think many of us girls complain and grumble when we ought
to emigrate instead._
“A WOULD-BE EMIGRANT.”
If it is the conditions of English service that “A Would-be Emigrant”
dislikes and not the work itself, we think she might very likely
find herself happier in Canada or Australia. The Cape is less to be
recommended, as much Kaffir labour is employed there and consequently
only very good servants are wanted. Free passages are given to domestic
servants of good character between the ages of 18 and 40 who wish to
emigrate to Western Australia. Inquiries should be addressed to the
Agent-General for Western Australia, 15, Victoria Street, London,
S.W. To other parts of Australia there are no free, but some assisted
and nominated passages. To Canada there are no assisted passages.
The emigrant to Canada should select April as the month in which to
leave. Women should communicate with the Women’s Protective Immigration
Society, at Quebec, and at 84, Osborne Street, Montreal, if they think
of going to Canada. Servants in Canada receive the following wages
per month:—Prince Edward Island, £1 to £1 8s.; Nova Scotia, £1 4s.
to £2; New Brunswick, £1 4s. to £1 12s.; Quebec and Ontario, £1 4s.
to £2 8s.; Manitoba and the North-West, £1 8s. to £3; and in British
Columbia—where nurse girls mainly are wanted—£2 8s. to £4.
_EMPLOYMENT FOR MIDDLE-AGED LADIES.—“How can three middle-aged ladies,
greatly reduced in circumstances, best obtain a living? They could
spend about £30 in preparing for employment, and have an income of
£30 per annum. Some persons have suggested that they should take a
small house at about £50 per annum, and then let apartments; but these
ladies do not feel that they could incur heavy liabilities or have the
responsibility of a large establishment. They are educated, and used to
keep a ladies’ school.—M. S. S.”_
These ladies are quite wise not to spend all they have on the rental
of a house, leaving themselves nothing for board or servants’ wages.
The profits on lodgers are small and would certainly not cover the
expenses of conducting such an establishment for some time to come. In
our opinion it would be best for the ladies to separate and to take
any posts that they could fill. They should try to obtain some kind
of employment in the capacity of matron. Possibly one of them might
obtain the matronship of a workhouse, or of one of those homes in which
young children are trained. Educated ladies who are equal to doing some
housework are much sought after to act as “house-mothers” to small
colonies or families of poor children. Matrons are likewise sought for
rescue or preventive homes for girls. It is for some occupation of this
class that the ladies might wisely offer themselves. If they fail to
obtain such posts on immediate application in reply to advertisements,
then it would be advisable to spend some portion of the pounds they
have by living and working for a few years in one of the London women’s
settlements. This is the best advice that can be offered; but the case
is certainly both sad and difficult.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
STUDY AND STUDIO.
BEATRICE M. PARAGREEN.—We do not know the book to which you refer.
There is a book, _Chapters on the Art of Thinking_, by James Hinton
(published at 8s. 6d.); and another, _Three Introductory Lectures on
the Science of Thought_, by Professor Max Müller (published at 2s.
6d.), which might help you. If you specially want the volume you name,
write to the publisher or author of the book where it is recommended,
asking for details.
EURYDICE.—Note the error in spelling your pseudonym. The story of
Orpheus is as follows:—Orpheus, a mythical personage, was supposed to
live before the time of Homer. Presented with the lyre by Apollo, and
taught to use it by the Muses, he could attract all living creatures,
and even trees and stones, by his enchanting music. When his wife,
Eurydice, was stung by a serpent and died, he followed her into the
abode of Hades, and by the charm of his lyre won her back from the king
of the regions of the dead. One condition only was attached to this
favour—that Orpheus should not look upon his recovered wife until they
had arrived at the upper world; but just at the last moment he did look
back, and she was caught away into the infernal regions once more. The
story is often mentioned in classic literature, and is to be found in
any classical or mythological dictionary. A charming poem upon the
legend, by one of our readers, first sent for criticism in this column,
appeared in THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER for December, 1898.
K. S. J.—We should think that your copy of _The Mercurie_, of July
23rd, 1588, if genuine, is certainly valuable. Write to the authorities
of the British Museum, London.
A MAY BLOSSOM.—We should advise you to write to the Secretary, Board
of Technical Education, St. Martin’s Lane, London, W.C. He will answer
all your questions. We fancy the only way to obtain a situation as
technical teacher of any subject, is to watch for vacancies and apply
for them as they occur.
PRIMROSE.—1. Write to the Secretary of the Church Missionary Society,
Salisbury Square, London, E.C., inquiring for the hymn in question.—2.
We do not think it is customary to have a cake and a new wedding-ring
at a silver wedding. At any rate we have never heard of the practice in
London.
HOPEFUL.—The best course would be for you to allow the young girl, who
has so good a voice, to attend for a course of training at the Royal
Academy of Music, Royal College of Music, Guildhall School of Music, or
Trinity College, London. For terms see Answers to Correspondents in THE
GIRL’S OWN PAPER for May, etc. No correspondence with a professional
singer would be of much use in the way of tuition. If you had given
your address, our advice might have been more practical. Good lessons
are all-important.
MAYFLOWER.—We cannot undertake any criticism by post (_vide_ rules
in June and other numbers). There is nothing at all original in
your verses, and it would, we fear, be useless for you to think of
publication. At the same time they are a pleasant exercise for you in
composition, and you appear to have a good ear for rhyme. You should
not, however, change your metre in the middle of a poem, as you do
in “Past and Present” and “Darkness and Dawn.” In “Spring” you will
observe that “The birds are gaily singing” is a line of different
cadence from “And the birds so bright and gay,” yet each occupies the
same place (second) in the verse.
A BLUNDERER.—Spring again! Your letter is modest. Blank verse needs
to be exceedingly poetical in order to be satisfactory, as there is
no rhyme to help the ear. The fault of your composition is a negative
one: there is little in the lines to prevent them from being read as
prose, save the fact of their being placed below one another, and being
of equal length. “Must needs be always upward sent” is a specially
unmusical line. The metre you use is not appropriate to blank verse,
and if you wish to try again, we should advise you to write in rhyme.
DORA.—Spring once more! We do not wish to be unkind, for it is
perfectly natural that this season of the year should inspire a longing
to write, and we sympathise with you in saying “Often I try to put my
thoughts into words, but they fall very far short of the conception
of my brain.” We prefer your poem on “The Seasons” to those we have
just been criticising, but it is full of expressions that would not
pass muster, _e.g._, “her pearly satin brow,” “the mould of marble
cheeks.” The course of education to “fit you for a literary career”
must be varied and extensive, comprising an acquaintance with the best
literature of your own country, and of other countries also.
GWYNETH A. MANSERGH.—You might like _The Bird World_, by W. H. D.
Adams, illustrated by Giacomelli (Nelson), published at 8s., J. E.
Harting’s _Sketches of Bird-Life: Haunts and Habits_, illustrated (W.
H. Allen, 10s. 6d.), or Rev. J. G. Wood’s _Branch Builders_ (Longman,
2s. 6d.).
INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE.
M. ARAPIAN, care of British Post Office, Smyrna, Turkey, Asia Minor,
asks MISS ANICE E. CRESS if she would be so kind as to forward her
present address.
“IDA,” who has for some time been corresponding with FLORENCE JEFFERY
of 848, Columbus Avenue, New York, writes to say that the last letter
was returned with “not found” upon it. As “IDA” much enjoyed the
correspondence, she begs MISS JEFFERY to renew it. She would also like
to correspond with another English girl living abroad, aged about
nineteen.
MISS TAYLOR, 22, Lynmouth Road, Stamford Hill, London, N., would like
to exchange stamps with anyone who can let her have specimens of
Newfoundland stamps, old and new issues, or any from New Brunswick,
Nicaragua, Finland, or Iceland. Also, she would be glad to correspond
with any amongst the G.O.P.’s many readers in India who would send
her some of the curious Asiatic stamps, such as Alwar, Bhopal, Cabul,
Cashmere, Deccan, Faridkot, etc.
GWYNETH A. MANSERGH, Willowdale, Broxbourne, Herts, aged 13½, wishes to
correspond with “VALENTINA.” She would also like to exchange post cards
with “GIGLIA.”
“PEGGY PICKLE” would very much like to correspond with a French girl of
about her own age (18) interested in literature, art, or any outdoor
pursuits. She thinks “JAPONICA’S” plan of writing alternate letters
in French and English, her correspondent doing the same, a very good
one. She would also like to obtain a German correspondent, though her
knowledge of the latter language is very slight.
LILY GODDARD, Abbotsford, Burgess Hill, Sussex, would like to
correspond with a French girl aged 16 or 17, each to write in the
language of the other, and to correct the letters received.
BESSIE ALEXANDER, Mimosa Villa, Newport, Jamaica, West Indies, desires
to exchange stamps with other girl collectors.
MISS L. HANDSON, 84, Cartergate, Grimsby, would like to correspond with
MISS NELLY POLLAK.
EDITH G. EDWARDS, care of W. M. Edwards, Esq., Rosebank, P.O. Box 37,
Krugersdorp, Transvaal, wishes to write in French to some French girl,
who might write in English, letters to be corrected and returned.
BESSIE BURNETT, 8, River View, Ashton, Preston, Lancashire, 13½ years
of age, writes as follows: “I should very much like to correspond with
VALENTINA BOZZOTTI, St. Giuseppe 11, Milan, Italy. I am very glad she
loves English people, and I feel sure I should love her. I look forward
with pleasure to writing and making friends with someone else who reads
THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER.”
⁂ The requests given above oblige the Editor to repeat that where an
address is given by a subscriber any would-be correspondent may write
to her direct, without losing time by sending to this column. Addresses
are given with the view of their being used, and when given, may be
considered correct and sufficient.
MEDICAL.
A CONSTANT SUFFERER.—The liver is a most unfortunate organ, since it
has to bear the brunt not only of special diseases of its own, but
also of many of the morbid conditions of the stomach and bowels below,
and of the heart and lungs above. But this is not all. The liver
has to suffer for every indiscretion in diet—a most formidable form
of slavery—and over and above this, it is held responsible for many
complaints with which it has nothing to do. If you eat too much, too
rich food, too often, or too indigestible food, the liver must suffer.
The signs of “liver complaint” are a feeling of oppression in the right
side of the abdomen; a yellowish tinge of the skin; headache; weariness
and disinclination for work or exertion of any kind; sleeplessness and
nightmares; constipation, usually, and general debility. The cause
is almost invariably overeating or overdrinking, combined with a
sedentary occupation. But it may be due to other more serious causes.
The treatment is suggested by the cause—extra exercise, little to eat,
and still less to drink. There is one drug which is of immense value
in this condition, namely, calomel. Two grains of calomel with twenty
grains of bicarbonate of soda, and one day’s absolute fasting, will
usually cure an attack of “liver.” Abstemious living will prevent the
attacks from recurring.
CONSTANT READER.—Your friend had far better see her own doctor. It
would be a waste of time to discuss all the possible things from which
she may be suffering, and you tell us nothing which could lead us to a
correct view of her illness.
ANXIOUS ONE.—Your condition is connected with a feeble circulation.
Plenty of digestible food, warm clothing, and plenty of exercise, will
do you more good than any local application; but the ichthiol ointment
_may_ do something for you.
MISCELLANEOUS.
AN ANXIOUS SISTER.—The salary of a London female sanitary inspector is
from £80 to £150 per annum. In the provinces it is rather less, being
from £52 to £80; in Scotland £52. An excellent position for both males
and females.
A. B. C.—Certainly, Meran, in the Tyrol, is one of the very first
places for the grape cure; but it is so popular that you should engage
apartments or hotel accommodation some time prior to your visit. We
have made the cure there, and consider it a beautiful locality. It
stands at 1,100 feet above the sea-level. Should you find Meran too
expensive, try Botzen, also a charming place at Gries, a suburb, full
of shady gardens, and detached villas, and pensions. Here the “air
cure,” as well as grape cure, is carried out. Should you decide on
Botzen, you had better write to the Hôtel Badl, or the Schwartze Gries,
in the Square Botzen. You could drive out to Gries from thence, and
suit yourself. One piece of advice will be valuable to you. Take a
less quantity of grapes than the full amount generally prescribed, and
procure from a doctor or chemist the tooth-powder essential for the
preservation of the teeth. The peculiar acid of grapes tends to destroy
the enamel. Remember this.
MINNIE.—You will have to commence paying dog tax as soon as your puppy
has passed six months of age, when you will be charged 7s. 6d. per
annum.
B. D.—The address of the “Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals,” is 105, Jermyn Street, St. James’s, S.W. The secretary is
John Colman, Esq.
ROVER.—The phrase, “between dog and wolf,” is applied to the dusk, when
there is neither clear daylight nor darkness. There is the same phrase
in Latin and French, viz., “_Inter canem et lupum_,” and “_Entre chien
et loup_.”
GLODEN CARRICK.—The origin of the name “London” is of remote times in
English history. If from the Celtic, it is a corruption of _Luan-dun_,
“City of the Moon,” which seems appropriate, considering that,
according to tradition, a temple to Diana—the Moon—stood on the site
of St. Paul’s. Other origins are given for the name; such as “Lud’s
town,” being so called after a mythical king of Britain (so termed by
Dr. Brewer). Stowe, however, speaks of him as a real character, and
says he repaired the city and built Lud-gate; and that, in the year
1260, the gate was decorated with the figures of kings—Lud included.
In the time of Edward VI. the heads of these monarchs were knocked
off—possibly being mistaken for effigies of saints—and “Queen Mary,”
Stowe continues, “did set new heads upon their bodies again; and the
twenty-eighth of Queen Elizabeth, the gate was newly and beautifully
built, with images of Lud and others, as before” (_Survey of London_).
Spenser, in his _Faerie Queene_, confirms the tradition that Lud—
“... Built that gate of which his name is hight,
By which he lies entombèd solemnly.”
JANEY.—You can buy ready-prepared marking-ink so cheaply, and it saves
so much trouble, that an old-fashioned recipe for home making seems
out of date. Still, we give one out of our own recipe book, which is
said to be satisfactory. For the ink, take 25 grs. of lunar caustic;
¼ oz. of rain water; and ½ drachm of sap green. To prepare the article
you will need ½ oz. sal. soda, ¼ oz. of gum arabic, and 2 oz. of
rain water, and a little cochineal. Steep the part to be marked in
this preparation. We have not tried it; but if the ready-made ink be
unsatisfactory, you can but make a trial of this.
SUFFERER.—Although you may not have the means of obtaining the benefit
of change of climate and mineral waters, prescribed for you by your
doctor, there is much you can do—and with a prospect of cure—at home.
Avoid the use of sugar in everything; use saccharine in your tea, and
take exercises night and morning, to free the contracted muscles of
the arm. Raise the arms from the sides (stretching them out) twelve
or twenty-four times; throw them upwards, higher than your head, in
front of you. Spread them out on each side, and bring them up behind
your back so as to meet; and swing round each hand alternately, to
clasp it respectively on each shoulder; turning the head every time to
that side. Whichever of these exercises hurts you the most, should be
repeated the oftenest. These exercises (and especially with abstention
from sugar) will cure the rheumatism in your arm and shoulder.
IGNORANT OF ETIQUETTE.—It is not necessary to leave cards for yourself
nor for any member of the family if received by your hostess in person.
Certainly on whatever occasion you are shown into a reception room, you
should be announced by the servant as you enter. Never send in a card
for the purpose.
KITTY.—There could be no hard and fast rule as to the character or
amount of a _trousseau_. All depends on the wealth and position of the
bride’s parents. She has nothing to prepare for her future home. That
is the husband’s business.
* * * * *
[Transcriber’s Note: the following changes have been made to this text.
Page 789: duplicate word “and” corrected—“and let it stand”.
Page 798: horrow to horror—“shame and horror”.
Page 799: recieve to receive—“to receive more than”.
Page 800: your to you—“you enter”.]