The following remarks upon the "Rules of Society" are made for the
benefit of those who from one cause or another feel a little uncertain
with respect to the small observances which, although not to be counted
among the weightier matters in life, yet hold no unimportant place
therein, if our daily comfort and well-being are to be considered;
but are, indeed, like oil on the wheels, not absolutely essential to
movement, but making all the difference as regards smoothness or the
reverse.
Life would go on certainly though we were all as rude and uncultivated
as could be--sitting on the ground and tearing our food with our hands
preparatory to gnawing the bones, and speaking the most terrible home
truths to each other without any veil whatever--but it would not be so
pleasant. And as civilisation has progressed, so by degrees a sort
of code of rules--unwritten in some particulars, but none the less
binding--has been evolved very much to the advantage of us all in the
way of preventing roughness in manner and making the great machine
called Society--which is but another name for an assemblage of human
beings--run easily and without friction.
More especially perhaps is an acquaintance with the "code" necessary
to women for their own happiness, sensitive and keen by nature
as they are and painfully aware of the slightest awkwardness;
for, akin to the feeling of discomfort--I may almost say general
disorganisation--produced by the consciousness of having on a
badly-fitting gown, a hideous hat, or a shoe whose beauties are things
of the past, just when there is urgent reason for wishing to look
well, is the sensation of nervous depression brought on by suddenly
awakening to the fact that one does not know quite "how to behave" or
"what to do" in the circumstances of the moment.
I ought, I think, to begin by offering an apology to the many readers
of THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER who have no need of any instruction or hints on
the matter for choosing a subject which always provokes a smile--either
good-natured or cynical--when mentioned, on account doubtless of its
being among those things which everybody is supposed to know. But there
is no occasion for the already enlightened to wade through this paper.
The heading will warn them off, and they can simply skip it all.
Leaving the majority therefore out of the question as in no way
concerned, I address myself to the comparatively few; and, on the
principle of taking the first step before attempting the second, I
begin at the beginning and will try to answer queries which present
themselves to my imagination as likely to be asked if people had the
opportunity of asking them.
We will consider at starting the very ordinary occurrence of a dinner
party about to be given; the invitations being sent out. These
may be formal cards--"Mr. and Mrs. A. request the honour"--or the
pleasure--"of Mr. and Mrs. B's company at dinner on Tuesday, the 8th of
June, at 8 o'clock"--or merely notes--"Dear Mrs. A., will you and Mr.
A. give us the pleasure of your company at dinner on," etc.
In either case the answer must be couched in the same terms as the
invitation, except when, as sometimes happens, the inviter is a near
relative or very intimate friend of the invited, in which event the
formality may be disregarded in favour of a note. "Dear Mrs. B."--or
the Christian name only--"we have great pleasure in accepting your kind
invitation," or "We shall have great pleasure in dining with you," etc.
And here please be careful to notice the difference in the wording, and
avoid a mistake constantly made in letters of this sort. People write,
"I shall have much pleasure in accepting," not considering that the
acceptance refers to the present, and consequently there is no "shall"
about it. But if the phrase runs, "I shall have much pleasure in dining
with you," it is correct because it refers to the dinner which is in
the future.
The date fixed for the party arrives, and you make your appearance
in your host's drawing-room, followed by your daughter--if she was
asked--and then your husband. Never, on any account, go in arm-in-arm.
It is a mistake very seldom made; but, as I have seen it happen
occasionally, it must be mentioned. The old-fashioned arm-in-arm is,
indeed, pretty nearly obsolete, except when actually going down to
dinner or supper, or just through the hall to a carriage. At no other
time, unless in some frightful crowd as a protection, is such a thing
ever witnessed now.
Dinner is announced and you take your seats. With regard to the mode of
eating, it may be roughly laid down that a knife is not to be used when
spoon and fork will do, and a spoon should not be employed if a fork
alone is sufficient. In the case of fish, silver knives are usually
provided, and when they are not it is advisable to use two forks if one
will not quite answer the purpose. Curry, properly cooked, requires no
knife, only spoon and fork. Quails and cutlets, of course, must have
a knife, but many _entrées_ can be perfectly well managed with a fork
alone.
It is hardly necessary, perhaps, to say that under no circumstances
whatever, whether when eating vegetables, cheese, or any other
thing, must a knife approach the mouth. Such an unbecoming as well
as dangerous habit would at once mark the person indulging in it as
standing in need of some little teaching.
On the other hand, we know that "fingers were made before knives and
forks," and custom ordains the exemplification of this adage on certain
occasions. Asparagus is eaten in the primitive manner, and requires
some dexterity in conveying the end of a rather limp stalk to the
mouth. Green artichokes are pulled to pieces leaf by leaf until the
"choke" is reached, when fork and spoon come into requisition, and
uncooked celery, after the thick end has been cut off, is taken up by
the fingers. The fragile pencil-like things called "cheese-straws"
must be eaten in the same manner, for they break if touched by any
implement, and I well remember watching the dire confusion of a woman
who vainly tried to catch some of the straws by pursuing them round
and round her plate with a fork, the only result being a collection of
unattainable splinters.
Some dishes are easy enough to help oneself to, but there are others
which demand cool determination to attack, and care lest a portion land
upon the tablecloth instead of in the plate. We are not all gifted with
the self-possession of Theodore Hook, who, when carving a tough goose
one day let it by chance slip bodily into the lap of his neighbour,
and, turning to the unlucky victim, said severely, "Madam, I will
trouble you for that goose!"
Fortunately for us, the days of carving at table are over, and we have
only to avoid catastrophes with extra hard _vol-au-vents_, infirm
jellies, and pyramids of strawberries.
A story is told of a man who, hopelessly in difficulties as to what
he ought to do, pulled some grapes off their stalks and tried to cut
each berry with a knife. It puts one's teeth on edge to think of the
pips on that occasion, and indeed the idea of steel blades and fruit in
juxtaposition is terrible, except in the case of oranges, when silver
knives create a feeling not far short of desperation.
As regards wine, persons who have come to years of discretion can
observe that discretion as seems good to them; but to those girls who
allow themselves wine, I would advise a small quantity of one kind.
It does not look well to have odds and ends of wine standing in the
various glasses by the side of a girl, neither is it attractive to see
her finish up with liqueur at the end of dinner.
In the matter of introductions there is but little of that now, though,
of course, unless previously acquainted, the man who takes you down to
dinner is first presented to you, and you may be introduced to some
one or other of the guests during the evening; but, especially if the
party be large, it is by no means certain that you will be. In the act
of introduction the name of the person highest in rank--or, if there
is no difference in that respect, then the elder of the two--should be
mentioned first, as "Lady A.--Mrs. B.," not _vice versâ_; and when a
man is presented to a woman there is generally the proviso, "Mrs. B.,
may I introduce Mr. C.?" A woman is not taken up to be introduced to
a man; always he to her, except in the case of royalty, and then the
royal personage has intimated his wish that she should be presented to
him.
A fault very common is not being sufficiently careful to pronounce
clearly the names of individuals when introducing them, and it is
a great oversight, as it prevents the landmarks--if I may so style
them--being visible, which are so necessary in this land, where
relationships run closely through every stratum of society, and it
is almost impossible to go anywhere without finding people either
nearly or distantly connected with each other. We cannot be a sort of
_Bradshaw's Guide_ through the network of lines of kinship, but the
more we understand about it the better, and to know exactly whom one
is speaking to is an undoubted help in that direction, enabling us to
avoid mistakes in conversation which may plant a sting unremovable by
any after-excuse or apology. The only safe course to follow in the
absence of such information is to say nothing but what is favourable
about people or even nations, lest you should wound the feelings of
your neighbour, and oblige him to say hurriedly, "she is my sister" or
"perhaps I had better mention my name," to show that he belongs to the
country about which you have been holding forth in not over-pleasant
terms.
One of the best indeed among the "rules of society" is that which
makes it incumbent on everybody not only to furnish his or her quantum
of wit, humour, general agreeability, or what not, for the amusement
and gratification of the company, but also, by a skilful word or
two, to try and turn the conversation away from any topic likely to
cause violent discussion or uncomfortable feeling; and nothing marks
ignorance of what ought to be done more distinctly than the tactless
introduction or continuation of a subject which, like a hedgehog, is
covered with prickles and sure to hurt somebody.
A word before concluding this paper to those who now and then give
dinners. Not the great banquets in big houses, which are part of the
routine of life, and being perfect in every detail go like clockwork;
but the modest entertainments in small abodes where the infrequency
of "parties" causes some excitement and extra work in the household.
The first thing to be remembered when such an event occurs is not to
attempt more than can be done properly as regards the number of guests
or dishes, and secondly, having settled the quantity and quality of
both, and arranged all things to the best of your ability, to leave
it alone. That is to say, do not let your mind worry and bother about
it, for of all fatal obstacles to the success of a dinner-party,
the irrelevant answers and wandering eye of the hostess, due to her
thoughts being fixed upon the delay in handing the vegetables, or
the non-appearance of a sauce, are the greatest, and moreover call
attention to shortcomings which otherwise might pass unobserved.
Therefore "assume the virtue" of coolness "if you have it not,"
and never allow your neighbour to see that while he is trying to
interest you and make himself agreeable your mind is elsewhere, and
that you have not heard a word of what was said. Remember also that
your business at the time is to be hostess, not cook, footman, or
parlour-maid, and that the more you attend to your own duties, and
do not, to use an expressive word, "fluster" the servants, the more
likely are they to get through their part creditably; and finally do
not forget that an important rule of society forbids the exhibition of
personal annoyances and domestic grievances to our acquaintances or
friends.
(_To be continued._)
[Illustration]
FROM LONDON TO DAMASCUS.
[Illustration: WATER SELLERS, PORT SAID.]
I suppose most girl-readers will understand the thrill of surprise
and delight with which I read the following sentences from a friend's
letter one February morning.
"My uncle thinks I need a change, and suggests my going abroad. Will
you go with me to Palestine for two or three months? We ought to get
off before the warm season begins there. Do you think we could leave
England at the end of this month?" Two or three times I read the words
in a dazed sort of way, and then astonished my hostess (a well-known
contributor to the G.O.P.) by quietly remarking--
"Would you be greatly surprised if I started for the Holy Land in a few
days? Elizabeth N. has asked me to go with her."
"The Holy Land!" echoed Mrs. B. "Do you really mean it?"
For answer, I handed her my letter, and greatly enjoyed the sensation
it created at the breakfast-table.
"How lovely," said kind Mrs. B., "to visit the sacred spots where our
Lord began and ended his ministry. How I wish I was strong enough to go
with you!"
"Shall we order the camels to come round to the front door?" exclaimed
a lively and irreverent member of the family. "I can already picture
you, dear E., riding over the trackless desert (composing poetry under
an umbrella), living in Bedouin tents, and finally being carried off
by a wild Arab chief, on a wild Arab steed, while we at home mourn and
frantically petition the Home Secretary or somebody to institute a
search for the missing English lady."
We all laughed at this ridiculous, unpunctuated speech, and then fell
to discussing the possibilities of eastern travel.
The next post carried my answer to Elizabeth's letter, and in a few
days we were in London making our final arrangements. We decided
from motives of economy to go by long sea, and selected the North
German Lloyd line of steamers because of their excellent second-class
accommodation. We booked our passage to Port Said in the _Prinz
Heinrich_, sailing from Southampton on February 28th.
Our remaining days were fully occupied with business, in the intervals
of which we packed our small portmanteaux (not omitting warm wraps),
got our passports _viséd_ at the Turkish Consulate, and attended to the
hundred and one trifles which seemed to crop up at the last moment.
It was not till we were safely on board the steamer and waving our
good-byes to the friends who had come to see us off, and who were now
returning to shore, that we felt our eastern travels were to become a
reality.
Fair indeed looked the green slopes of the Isle of Wight on that
glorious morning, and as we passed the Needles, many eyes filled with
tears, for the ship was bound for distant China and Japan, and few
of her passengers could hope to look upon Old England again for many
long years. As for us, our hearts were light, and we were eager to go
forward. Not even the unknown terrors of the Bay of Biscay appalled
us. Fortunately it proved most kind. We passed Gibraltar at midnight,
on March 3rd, the wonderful old rock looking awful and mysterious in
the moonlight. Genoa was reached on the 6th, but, alas! heavy rain and
cold winds set in, and the "superb" city did not look tempting enough
to draw us from our comfortable ship for the forty-eight hours we were
tied up in her harbour. There was a general murmur of satisfaction
when the last cargo had been shipped and we were on the move again. As
we entered the bewitching Bay of Naples the weather cleared, and the
sun shone warm and bright. Here we had to wait until the evening for
the mails, and everybody seized this opportunity of going on shore.
How well I remember my sensations of delight as we wandered about the
old streets, admiring the queer, tall, gaily-painted houses and the
quaint bits of picturesque Neapolitan life which we came upon in our
long climb to the top of the old ramparts which overlooked the busy
city. From this height we gazed our fill on the pretty picture. The
lemon trees with the golden fruit shining through the glistening leaves
threw a shade on the irregularly-built houses. Beyond glittered the
glorious bay, dotted with stately vessels and other smaller craft,
while above loomed the giant Vesuvius, his sullen frowns adding a touch
of melancholy to the scene. All too swiftly that dream-like day passed,
and once again we were sailing Eastward Ho!
Wickedly did the fair Mediterranean behave for the next four days,
and wildly did our good ship pitch and toss on those treacherous blue
waves! Those days were days of intense bitterness of spirit, when
to most of us past sorrows and future hopes were forgotten in the
agonising longing for immediate annihilation. But even sea-sickness
yields to time and smooth water, and we had begun to take a more
cheerful view of life when we dropped anchor in Port Said on Sunday
the 13th. Our curiosity was strongly excited, and though we were truly
sorry to say good-bye to our travelling-companions, whose lives had
touched ours for a brief space in pleasant intercourse, we were eager
to get our first glimpse of eastern life. We smiled in quite a superior
manner when an old gentleman, noticing our impatience, remarked
cynically--
"Well, young ladies, if you can find anything pleasing in that
hole"--indicating the town--"I should say your capacity for enjoyment
must be abnormal."
Summoning a boat, whose boatmen bore on their scarlet jerseys the
legend "New Continental Hotel," Elizabeth and I stepped into it and
waved adieu to the good ship _Prinz Heinrich_. We were quickly rowed
ashore, where the hotel guide took our passports, showed them, and
us, to the Turkish official, who courteously handed us over to the
customs-house officers. These gentlemen proved to be equally civil,
evidently seeing nothing suspicious either in us or our modest luggage.
Our formal introduction to Egypt being thus agreeably made, we walked
to the hotel, and were soon seated under the cool verandah, discussing
delicious tea and bread and butter. We ascertained that the steamer
going to Jaffa did not leave before Tuesday evening, so that we had
ample time to become acquainted with Port Said. What an un-Sabbath-like
appearance our novel surroundings presented! Noisy donkey-boys, with
bold inventiveness, were loudly urging the new arrivals to mount
Queen Victoria, Lord Salisbury, Prince Bismarck, Mrs. Langtry, Mrs.
Cornwallis West, etc., for these high-sounding names were tacked on
to the wretched little donkeys. Bare-legged shoe-blacks, with most
engaging smiles, seized your feet and began operations without even a
"By your leave." Importunate blind beggars, whose picturesque garments
were indescribably dirty, demanded _backsheesh_, and according to
the response, poured out a choice selection of blessings or curses
in Arabic, which would have astonished the most accomplished Irish
professor of the same craft. Shrewd, hook-nosed Jewish money-changers
sat in the highway, each before his glass box, which contained a wire
tray covered with a tempting store of bank-notes and coins. These had
doubtless been exchanged at an exorbitant rate of interest for Turkish
money. Black men, white men, brown men, yellow men in their native
dress, sat drinking coffee and playing backgammon and dominoes in the
open street, or walked leisurely along the road. It was a strange,
fascinating scene, unlike anything we had witnessed before, and the
ubiquitous bicycle as it flashed by with its British rider failed to
break the charm.
Towards evening we strolled into the town, where we discovered an
English "Sailors' Rest." We opened the door, and following the sound
of voices, boldly walked upstairs. In an upper room knelt twenty Jack
Tars, who had come in from one of her Majesty's ships lying in the
harbour. Very hearty and refreshing were the simple prayers uttered by
the men. Only too well they knew the dangers and temptations of a shore
life. We heard afterwards from the gentle lady who presided at this
gathering how that bright little room, with its books and pictures,
and, above all, the presence of kindly friends, had proved a haven of
peace to many of our British sailors, for whom the perils of the ports
are more terrible than the perils of the deep. On our return we found
letters from our friends in Jaffa, telling of unprecedented storms
visiting the coast, and reminding us, that unless the present wind
went down, we should find it impossible to land. In the event of this
happening, the only other alternative was to go on to Beyrout, and from
thence to Damascus by rail. This plan did not commend itself to us in
the least, for we particularly wished to begin our Palestine wanderings
from Jaffa, and also we desired to consult our friends there as to the
best routes, and other important items relating to our tour. It was no
use grumbling, however, and as we could not arrange the weather to our
liking, we wisely agreed to let it alone, hoped that all would be well,
and that we should yet enter Jaffa with a fair breeze and in smooth
water.
Two days served to satisfy our curiosity and exhaust for us the
delights of Port Said; therefore we were not sorry when Tuesday night
arrived, and we were once more on board a ship, which we trusted would
bring us in a few hours to our desired haven.
Before the sun rose next morning we were straining our eyes towards
the dim coast-line. Presently the compact little town of Jaffa came
in sight, and before long our last fear about landing was set at
rest, for we saw the boats putting off from the surf-beaten shore
and racing one another towards our ship. In one of them sat our
missionary friends coming out to meet us, delightedly waving their
pocket-handkerchiefs. On board the steamer wild excitement prevailed.
Travellers were hunting for lost luggage, or rushing distractedly
hither and thither, while everybody seemed to be talking at once in
unknown tongues, making confusion worse confounded. In the midst of
it all our friends managed to find us, and gave us a warm welcome to
Palestine. They kindly undertook all the difficulties connected with
the customs and passports. A porter was secured, who seized our boxes
and wraps, and promptly disappeared. We wondered whether we should ever
see them again, but our friends said they would turn up all right. We
then joined the group of nervous passengers who were being encouraged
to jump into the boat below. I don't remember how we managed it, but
I think we blindly took the "leap" at the right moment. Anyway, we
discovered ourselves unhurt on the top of a big trunk, which swayed
perilously with our weight. Passengers and luggage were hopelessly
mixed up, but we were delighted to find all our party together. At
last we were off, and in a short time the dangerous reefs were passed
safely, but we were on the Jaffa beach, the dreaded landing having been
accomplished without any accident.
We were now marched through the Customs House into a narrow lane, muddy
from recent rains; here we had to wait until our baggage was examined.
An hour or more elapsed before we and our belongings came together
again. Occasionally we would see a portmanteau, which we knew to be
ours, rapidly vanishing in an opposite direction; then ensued a lively
dialogue in Arabic between the porter and one of our missionaries,
which ended by the disputed article being brought and placed near at
hand, to await the arrival of the remainder. I may mention that the
Jaffa porters are veritable Samsons. They carry with the greatest ease
a couple of boxes, one of which would break the back of an ordinary
London porter. We were told of one who carried a grand piano bodily on
his back from one house to another, a distance of several hundred yards.
[Illustration: LANDING AT JAFFA.]
We were greatly interested in our muddy lane. The scene was so truly
oriental that it is worth describing, though the vivid colouring and
the intensely blue sky must be left to the imagination. Turbaned
merchants, indifferent alike to puddles and slush, sat on little
straw-covered stools smoking the hookah, or hubble-bubble, in the
dignified leisurely manner of the East. Hawkers carrying huge
brass trays, filled with curious cakes and sweetmeats, cried their
wares. Water-sellers, with their uninviting-looking goat skins slung
across their shoulders, went to and from the well. Moslem ladies
thickly veiled, and covered from head to foot with a white sheet,
stopped to look at the new arrivals. Fellaheen women, their faces
uncovered, did their marketing, grave Syrian gentlemen, tall powerful
Abyssinians, Jews with lovelocks on each side of their faces, graceful
Levantines, stately Persians, fair-complexioned Armenians, long-haired,
black-bearded Greek priests, shaven Latin priests, pilgrims from many
lands on their way to the Holy City, stopped to exchange greetings, or
passed on with a brief salaam.
Strings of camels, laden with oranges, ambled by, their long necks
bobbing from side to side, their "melting" eyes looking such
unutterable things--we felt quite drawn to the creatures. Afterwards,
when we knew the camel better, we liked him less, and ended by
accepting Mr. Kipling's unflattering estimate of him, who--
"When all is said and done,
Is a devil, and an ostrich, and an orphan child in one."
Swift little donkeys, and gaily caparisoned Arab horses, ridden by
resplendent-looking Arabs, pushed their way unceremoniously through the
crowds. We noticed that nearly all the animals were decorated with blue
bead necklaces, or else one or two beads were tied to their tails or
forelocks. These are believed to act as a charm against the "evil eye."
Mothers fasten these charms to their children's hair, and it is neither
safe nor wise for a "Frangi"--as the European is called--to look
admiringly on either child or beast, for fair-haired, blue-eyed people
are credited with possessing special power of casting the evil eye.
During our week's stay in Jaffa, as guests of our missionary friends,
we had exceptional opportunities of seeing the country and the inner
life of its people. Most travellers leave the same day they arrive,
going up to Jerusalem by the afternoon train, and carrying away the
impression that Jaffa is a dirty, uninteresting town. We found
our days all too short, there was so much to see and hear. Several
afternoons were spent in the famous orange gardens, or _bayaras_, and
very grateful was the shade of the trees even in March. The scent of
the flowers and fruit fills the air; indeed, in certain winds, it is
wafted miles away out to sea. We often had boughs of this delicious
fruit presented to us. To eat it seemed almost a crime; the oranges
looked so beautiful hanging amid their shining leaves and silver
blossom. We were constantly reminded of the appropriateness of
Solomon's simile, as we listened to the courteous speech of our Arab
friends, accompanied by pleasant smiles. "A word fitly spoken is like
oranges[A] of gold in pictures of silver."
Within the last few years Jaffa has shown a desire for progress. The
thrift and prosperity of the German and Jewish colonies are teaching
the Arabs the value of commercial intercourse with other nations, as
well as the best methods of cultivating their land. The missionaries
are also doing much towards civilising the people, by teaching the
gospel, and opening schools for the children, where they learn
invaluable lessons to carry back to their homes.
The English hospital is also another proof of missionary zeal, and
brings the fellaheen from distant villages into touch with skilful
hands and loving service, unknown and undreamt of by these poor men
and women; for the Moslem is a fatalist; his religion makes him one.
If his favourite wife or child dies, he accepts it without emotion, as
being "God's will." If he is ill himself he takes little or no pains to
seek remedies; his illness is "from God." I heard of a man who went on
pilgrimage to Mecca last year. He was sincerely attached to his wife,
and allowed her to accompany him as a very special mark of his favour.
After five months' absence he returned, having exchanged his ordinary
turban for the sacred green one, and resumed his interrupted work. One
day he called at the house of a friend of ours. She inquired after his
wife's welfare, and received the unexpected answer, "The Prophet had
need of her, and I left her in the desert." It seems that the poor woman
fell ill on the long journey, but with an unusual display of affection
her husband cared for her until she recovered. She again became sick,
and this second attack convinced him "that the Prophet wanted her," and
allowing fatalism and superstition to stifle the feelings of humanity,
he left her in the desert to die, where, in a few hours, the vultures
were feeding on the poor dead body.
We visited the prison one morning, and saw the wretched prisoners
huddled together, in cells like cages, ranged round an open courtyard.
Eager hands were thrust through the bars, and cries of "_backsheesh_"
filled the air. One of the "cages" was called the blood prison, in
which several murderers were imprisoned; they clamoured with the rest
for money. We looked with pity upon the miserable creatures, for we
were told that it was quite possible most of them had not committed the
crimes of which they were accused, but that private spite and intrigue
had brought them there, where they would probably remain, unless large
bribes were paid for their release.
Another day, as we were riding across the plain of Sharon, we were much
amused at seeing a camel ploughing. He strode along, ostrich fashion,
with his most supercilious air, pulling behind him a ridiculous little
plough of primitive make. He looked so irresistibly funny that we burst
out laughing. In other parts of the country we saw camels and oxen
yoked together, but more generally the latter animals only. Ploughing
would seem to be but a pastime in Syria. The soil is so rich and
fertile that it only needs turning over slightly, when the seed dropped
into the furrows springs up in a marvellously short time and yields a
rich harvest.
We had many discussions with our friends about plans for further
travel. Eventually we decided to go to Jerusalem, and while there
engage an experienced dragoman to accompany us through Judea, Samaria
and Galilee. We made up our minds to go alone, and avoid tourist routes
and tourist parties. Though this decision was thought somewhat rash, we
had no occasion to regret it.
S. E. B.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote A: Prov. XXV. II, "apples" in our translation being now
generally thought to mean "oranges." The former fruit is not cultivated
in Palestine.]
THE GIRL'S OWN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS COMPETITION.
_Readers will find full particulars of this Competition--in which
everyone has a chance of winning either a prize or a certificate, and
the certainty of largely adding to her stock of information--by turning
back to page 14._
QUESTIONS 25-36.
25. Who was the monarch who once attended a rehearsal of his own
funeral?
* * * * *
26. What is the largest palace in the world used as a residence?
* * * * *
27. What is the exercise most conducive to physical beauty?
* * * * *
28. What was the first street ever lit by gas?
* * * * *
29. How fast can one read, when reading silently?
* * * * *
30. What famous philanthropist was known as the "Nightingale of the
House of Commons"?
* * * * *
31. How many hours a day should we give to sleep?
* * * * *
32. What is the most famous signal ever made to the British navy?
* * * * *
33. What useful discovery was made by lighting a fire on the sand
and using pieces of natron (sub-carbonate of soda) to support the
cooking-pot?
* * * * *
34. What are the "Borrowed Days" and how do they come by their name?
* * * * *
35. What is the simplest and least troublesome of all cookery processes?
* * * * *
36. Are there any extinct volcanoes in Great Britain?
The answers to the above questions, Nos. 25-36, together with the
answers to questions 37-48, which are yet to appear, must be sent in on
or before January 27, 1899.
Address to THE EDITOR, THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER Office, 56, Paternoster
Row, London, E.C., and at the left-hand top corner of the envelope or
wrapper write the words "QUESTIONS COMPETITION."
OUR NEW PUZZLE POEM.
[Illustration]
⁂ PRIZES to the amount of six guineas (one of which will be reserved
for competitors living abroad) are offered for the best solutions of
the above Puzzle Poem. The following conditions must be observed.
1. Solutions to be written on one side of the paper only.
2. Each paper to be headed with the name and address of the competitor.
3. Attention must be paid to spelling, punctuation, and neatness.
4. Send by post to Editor, GIRL'S OWN PAPER, 56, Paternoster Row,
London. "Puzzle Poem" to be written on the top left-hand corner of the
envelope.
5. The last day for receiving solutions from Great Britain and Ireland
will be December 17, 1898; from Abroad, February 16, 1899.
* * * * *
The competition is open to all without any restrictions as to sex or
age. No competitor will be awarded more than one First Prize during the
year (November 1898 to October 1899), but the winner of a Second Prize
may still compete for a first. Not more than one First and one Second
Prize will be sent to any one address during the year.
* * * * *
A CONSOLATION PRIZE of one guinea will be awarded to the competitor,
not a prize-winner, who shall receive the highest number of marks
during the year for Mention. Very Highly Commended to count 10 marks;
Highly Commended to count 7 marks; Honourable Mention to count 5 marks.
This will be an encouragement to all who take an interest in the
puzzles and who cannot quite find their way into the front rank of
solvers.
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
STUDY AND STUDIO.
L. COX.--We cannot answer any queries through the post, although we
feel sympathy with you in your aims and desires. By all means carefully
plan out your spare time. We should advise you to attend classes at the
nearest Polytechnic or "Continuation School" for cookery, needlework,
and also for as many as possible of the other subjects you mention.
Read what you can as well; but you will find the influence of a
teacher's mind upon your own a great advantage and help. Conviction of
ignorance is the first step to improvement.
ROSALIND.--1. You need not be in despair about your handwriting. If
you would make shorter tails to your _y_'s, etc., it would look far
better. The only way to improve is daily to copy some model you admire,
and take great pains, keeping a uniform space between your lines. Your
letters might be larger and bolder with advantage.--2. Your poems show
an attentive and observant eye for nature. "A Summer Evening" is the
better of the two poems. "Petals loosened from the rose of dawn," in
"The Golden Day," is a pretty fancy. We do not like "silver showers of
dewdrops," and "golden floods of music." Be on your guard against too
flowery a style.
EXCELSIOR.--We are afraid to encourage you to depend on any kind of
literary work for gaining a livelihood. Writing for the press is a
profession like other professions, and needs training and practice
before success can be hoped for. If you sent a specimen of your
original composition, we could advise you more definitely; but there
are vast numbers who wish to earn by their pen, and the competition is
consequently keen.
FLORA D.--1. Certainly your writing is "good enough for you to be a
clerk." It is legible and neat.--2. Why do you not send in the essays
you write on the stories? Very likely one might some day win a prize,
and it would at any rate be a pleasure to read such clearly-written
manuscript as yours.
HETTY SPIER.--There is the "Crystal Palace Choir," and the "Handel
Festival Choir." Address for particulars of either, the Secretary of
that choir, Crystal Palace, and you will hear all particulars. These
are nearer to you than any other. But if you write, enclosing a stamp,
to the Secretary of any choir you see advertised as performing at a
concert, you will be sure to have a reply. We can never promise an
answer as quickly as you desire to have yours.
O MIMOSA SAN.--1. We do not undertake to read character by photographs
or handwriting, though we can criticise the latter.--2. We will insert
your request.
JAM-TART.--We have read your poem with much interest. The thoughts you
describe are those that are wont to assail lonely hours of wakefulness
at night; but we are glad you can adopt a different strain at the
close. You have occasionally a felicitous turn of expression, as, for
instance--
"Why bow before Life's tyrant, Care,
And meekly take his sorry fare
Unsweetened by a jest?"
We should certainly advise you to practise your pen when you feel the
impulse to do so.
LILY JONES.--The two verses you enclose express a feeling we can well
understand, but they are written in rather halting metre. Each line
should have the same cadence as this one--
"How sweetly thou speakest to me";
but you will perceive that
"Brings a sense of happy relief"
differs in rhythm.
INQUIRER.--The error we pointed out is exactly the same whether the
words come together or not. You make "thou" the nominative to "doth"
in the two lines you quote; and this is incorrect. You should study
grammar.
BANGALORE.--1. We are pleased to be able to say that the tune you send
us is a charming one. Certainly it is "worth teaching to Sunday School
children," and is quite good enough for publication.--2. The verses you
send us are touching and unusual, considering that they were written by
a child of six, seriously ill.
FRANCES M. VENABLES.--We have acknowledged your information elsewhere.
You will find your quotation--
"Guard well thy thoughts, for thoughts are heard in heaven"--
in Young's _Night Thoughts_, Book ii., line 94.
LABORE OMNIA FLORENT.--1. Your handwriting is very good indeed. The
aspect of your letter would be improved if you would not leave a margin
at the end of your lines.--2. Your verses are very fairly good. There
is nothing original in "Love," or "Duty." "Lines to a friend" are the
best. We are a little reminded of Christina Rossetti's poem--
"Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end"--
though of course the subject is entirely different.
OUR OPEN LETTER BOX.
MISS ALMA TÀTRA LOMNICZ, Villa Rodakowski, Sygresse, Hungary, wants
to know if any reader will exchange a copy or large photograph of
Burne-Jones's picture, "Cherubs," for one by the popular Tyrolese
painter, Defregger.
MISS M. DIXON informs Black Luffy that "An Advent Serenade" is in
Harper's _Young People_ for 1885, and offers to send a copy of the poem
on application to her at The Woodlands, Cragg Vale, near Mytholmroyd.
We have three replies to ADELAIDE from HELEN A. MANNING, LABORE OMNIA
FLORENT, and FRANCES M. VENABLES. All enclose the poem by Mrs. Norton,
asked for, and MISS VENABLES suggests that the first line is:
"Word was brought to the Irish king."
WINIFRED A. GRIFFITHS thanks the correspondents who so kindly came to
her aid about "The Voiceless Chimes."
INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE.
O MIMOSA SAN (Russia?) would like to exchange post-cards with views
with anyone who collects them.
JANE W. BARR, Fortune Villa, St. Andrews, would be much obliged if
MADEMOISELLE MARIE GUISE would send her correct address, as the letter
MISS BARR wrote was returned.
MISS D'ROZARIO, c/o The Postmaster, Bangalore, India, wishes FRIEND
STUDIO to have this address, and to know that MISS D'ROZARIO will be
very glad to write to her.
The COUNTESS BLANCHE DE FORESTIER, Austria, writes a kind letter to say
she has found two correspondents through our paper.
MABEL SWALLOW, Huthwaite House, Thurgoland, near Sheffield, would like
very much to correspond with a French girl of about her own age (14).
ALICE A. COWAN, 30, Gauden Road, Clapham, S.W., would like a German
correspondent about her own age (20) or a little younger.
OUR SUPPLEMENT STORY COMPETITIONS.
STORIES IN MINIATURE.
A SAILOR'S BRIDE.
FIRST PRIZE (£2 2s.).
Florence Makin, Sheffield.
SECOND PRIZE (£1 1s.).
Una, Worlingworth, Wickham Market.
THIRD PRIZE (10s. 6d.).
Margaret Moscrop, Saltburn-by-the-Sea.
HONOURABLE MENTION.
Conor, Bonchurch, Isle of Wight; Esperance, Bridge of Allan; E. C.
Harding, Dorking; Eleanor L. Harding, Dorking; Mary Lilla Harriss,
Hackney, N.E.; Edythe Hoare, Leamington, Spa; Janet B. Imrie, Castle
Douglas; Letitia E. May, Alton, Hants.; Mayfield, Llandaff; Annie S.
Murphy, Tullow; Cecile Rahier, Brest, France; Ruby Smiley, Ballyclare,
co. Antrim; Eva M. Waldren, Basingstoke; Wild-Thyme, Edinburgh; May
Adèle Venn, W. Kensington Park.
TO THE COMPETITORS.
MY DEAR GIRLS,--Let me thank you all very much for the many pleasant
pages I have read.
In reading your essays, I have fancied that there are some future
story-tellers among you, who will be ready to take up our pens when we
lay them aside.
In every phase of life we see that all cannot be successful at the same
time; but such competitions as these bring eventual success to the
strong ones, who have faith and courage to try again. I feel sure that
"miniature" _handwriting_ was not a feature of the competition! and
hope that in other efforts no young eyes will be so cruelly taxed as
some have been in this.
My warmest wishes for the future success of those not successful
to-day; and congratulations to the winners.
Your cordial friend,
MINNIE DOUGLAS.
THE BACK OF BEYOND.
FIRST PRIZE (£2 2s.).
Annie E. Mellor, Hereford.
SECOND PRIZE (£1 1s.).
Annie Ascough, Scarborough.
THIRD PRIZE (10s. 6d.).
Helen Rickards, Dixton Vicarage, Monmouth.
HONOURABLE MENTION.
"Hermia," Colchester; Janet M. Pugh, Towyn; Louisa A. M. Mathew,
Beckenham; Mary F. Howard, Oxford; Amy Miller, Brixton Hill; J. Ebdell,
Wakefield; Nellie Cobham, Folkestone; Kate Kelsey, Bristol; Minnie
Highton, Norwood; "Greta," Manchester; Lottie L. Creighton, Gorey; L.
Harper, Belfast; Ada Browning, Limehouse, E.; Effie Mackintosh, Instow;
Abigail Binns, Rochdale; Jessie Hickling, Sydenham; Mrs. Evelyn Upton,
West Brighton; C. Winifred Dyer, Wandsworth; "Shamrock," Hyde Park;
Annie F. Hepple, North Shields; Alice J. E. Mosley, Wentworth; Sophie
Gardner, Richmond Hill; J. B. C., Fauldhouse; Lilian A. G. Slade,
Crewkerne; H. Marjory Ingle, Ely; Eleanor Mary Ralls, Bridport; Maud
Wilson, Belfast; C. Winifred James, Crown Hill; Margaret Christina
Haynes, Bristol.
TO THE COMPETITORS.
MY DEAR GIRLS,--As summaries, your stories could hardly have been
better. It is clear that, in organising the Competition, the Editor
has been doing real educational work. You are acquiring a selective
faculty: you are learning to distinguish between the detail and the
design. Practice--this sounds arithmetical--is teaching you proportion.
This critical power will stand you in good stead--in life as well as in
letters.
But on some other points I cannot be quite so congratulatory. There
is a good deal of adventurous spelling, and there is much distracted
punctuation. Many of the miniatures are nearly large enough for family
portraits.
And, while the stories are admirable skeletons, they seem--as skeletons
are apt to prove in society--a little deficient in ease and grace,
jerky and unpersuasive. Some, I am almost afraid, are rather dry, and
even a little dull.
Girls, don't you think that, in dealing with a tale that was meant as
a concession to the holiday spirit--a little interlude between more
serious efforts--you might have accepted with less reserve the Editor's
invitation to be bright?
And I should like to see you aiming at some distinction of style. Some
of the stories reminded me of telegrams, some of strings of beads.
Still, a good many are crisp and neat, and a few have quite a pretty
touch.
The winner of the first prize, I must add, came very near to being
disqualified on account of her sugared and beguiling words. On full
reflection, however, her paper being much the best in point of
sprightliness and _verve_, I decided, after making a conscientiously
wry face, to absorb the saccharine matter. But, another time, she must
not put bouquets on the judge's table.
With congratulations to many, and hearty thanks to all,
Ever most truly yours,
FREDERICK LANGBRIDGE.
⁂ Unfortunately we have no space for printing the first prize essays
this month.--
.
SPECIAL NOTICE TO OUR READERS.
[Illustration: RUTH LAMB.]
We earnestly desire all our subscribers to read our new Supplement Story
"FRIEND OR SELF"
issued simultaneously with this monthly part. As a guarantee of its
interest and value it is enough to state that the writer of it is the
girls' special favourite--Ruth Lamb, author of "In the Twilight Side
by Side." In order that the beautiful story shall be well read and
enjoyed, and the high teaching of it have its effect, we offer three
prizes of TWO GUINEAS, ONE GUINEA, and HALF-A-GUINEA for the three best
papers on it. 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. Writers are cautioned
against too small handwriting.
The last day for receiving the papers is November 19th; and no papers
can in any case be returned.
_Examiners:_--The Author of the Story (Ruth Lamb), and the Editor of
THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER, who will send certificates signed by themselves
to all those obtaining Prizes and Honourable Mention.