XXXII.PAULINE PRY.
WE come this week to spy out the land,—to roam “up stairs, down stairs, and in the lady’s chamber”; to creep into all by and forbidden places; to look into the bedrooms, ransack the wardrobes, peep into the drawers, it may be; overhaul trunks and boxes, perhaps; in short, to take all manner of liberty and find fault to our heart’s content.
Now we slip, unseen, into the guest-chamber. It is very pleasant and inviting; but we don’t think the bed is made up very neatly. There are “humps” in the mattress. It has not been turned over after using, and well beaten and brought to a good square surface. The sheets and blankets are not put on smoothly; the fine, Marseilles spread is put on unevenly, giving a very untidy appearance to the bed, and bringing so large a proportion of the bedclothes on one side, so as to render it difficult to turn and press them down properly between the mattress and side-rail, and of course you cannot, under such circumstances, give a square, regularshape to the bed. A poorly made bed spoils the appearance of the room, however elegant the rest of the furnishing may be.
Pretty sheet and pillowtidiesare of great assistance in giving a fresh, cheerful air to a bedroom. If sheets and pillow slips are neatly tucked and nicely ironed, the bed will look very inviting at first, if well made; but after it has been once used, the wrinkled, tumbled sheets and pillows are not a pleasant sight, and one feels well repaid for the little trouble of providing tidies, however simple; ruffled and embroidered, for the spare chamber if you please, but a part of a fine old linen sheet, with broad hems and narrow tucks, starched and well ironed, gives a very neat finish to the family bedrooms, and with careful folding when taken off at night will not need to be done up for some weeks.
This elegant bureau is all right, as far as it is furnished; but the guest-chamber should be provided with all the little comforts and conveniences which a lady thinks necessary in her own room. A handsome mat or tidy over the marble top, and little mats on each side for cologne-bottle and watch-stand, or match-box and jewel-case, and a pretty cushion, will add much to the appearance of this bureau; or if nothing more, a clean damask towel spread over it is, if not a necessity, at least a great safeguard against stains on the marble, and a protection from the disagreeable chill that creeps over one when resting the hand or arm on the cold marble.
A good comb and brush, free from the slightest suspicion of dirt, a boot-buttoner, and a paper of pins, ought to be on the bureau or in the drawer. A friend often remains over night unexpectedly, and, of course not coming provided for the detention, will find these little attentions and conveniences a great comfort, and duly appreciate your kind and thoughtful care.
A little basket of willow or perforated card, embroidered with some neat and fanciful design, or a bead or muslin bag, is a great convenience much needed to be hung by the side of the bureau or under the gas, to hold the hair from comb or brush, burnt matches, bits of thread or paper. Some such receptacle for loose bits or litter, no matter how simple, should be near every bureau, which the chambermaid must empty every morning. Acuspidor, or wide-mouthed vase, upon the floor, is more elegant than a scrap-basket, but much more expensive.
A curtain of white barred muslin or linen is needed back of the washstand, that the water, in washing, may not soil the paper or paint. A nail-brush is very convenient, we think a real necessity, for every bedroom. Get open, upright brush holders, rather than the long flat ones with a cover, for, by standing the tooth and nail brushes in the upright dish they drain and soon dry; but if laid down and covered they are never dry, and in warm weather soon become quite offensively musty.
A good sponge on the washstand and a clean doily hung up with the towels should be considered as indispensable in any well-furnished spare room as for those in daily use.
Of course the bureau drawers and wardrobe in this room will be left as nearly unoccupied as possible; so we will not stop to open them, but pass into other rooms.
What can be the matter in this young lady’s chamber? As we draw near the bureau, we perceive a most unpleasant smell. We must take the liberty of opening this drawer. Whew! the first breath reveals the mystery.
The brush has been wet to brush the hair, and then without drying shut from the air in the drawer. There is no smell so sickening! It pervades the whole bureau. No perfume can overcome it; and by using the brush, damp and uncleansed day after day, the odor is carried wherever thiscareless person goes. We have sat by people in church who have used such a brush, and could hardly remain during the service. The cause is unmistakable and cannot be concealed. If no other means can destroy this bad habit, we would recommend that any one so thoughtless should read an article we saw not long since in “Harper’s Bazar” on the vegetable growth, in brush, comb, hair, and scalp, produced by wetting the brush or hair, and leaving them undried or uncleansed. We think once reading that description would be sufficient cure.
The hair-brush should be combed free from hair or dandruff every time it is used, and laid by an open window till well aired and dried, if ladies will persist in wetting the hair or brush. A brisk movement of a dry brush through the hair will soon create a fine lustre on the hair, whereas wetting diminishes the gloss so beautiful in well-kept hair; but we forget that that is an old-fashioned idea. The progress of art and elegance teaches that a wilderness of fuzzy, frizzled hair is now the crowning beauty. Tastes differ, but no change in style or fashion will object, we hope, to a clean, sweet brush; and to secure that it must once a week, at least, be well washed in warm soapsuds, in which a little soda has been dissolved. Soda is better than ammonia, as it cleanses without stimulating thevegetable growthspoken of in the “Bazar,” to which we just referred. Comb the brush while washing, that the suds may penetrate to the roots of the bristles, and cleanse every part; then rinse in warm water, rub dry as you can, and put in the window, or by the fire if the weather is damp, to dry. This care should not be neglected by any one who makes any pretension to neatness.
The bureau drawers in this room are not in good order. You will lose much time, and we think a good deal of self-respect, when next you need a handkerchief or stockings,for everything here seems to have been stirred up by a whirl-wind or a sleep-walker. It will require some skill and more patience than you can spare to separate this wretched tangle.
The pipes in the wash-basin and bath-room are slimy and foul, indicative of neglect. They should be well washed every morning, and once a week a pail of boiling suds, with a spoonful or two of soda or potash, must be poured in, to eat away all impurities, and sweeten the pipes. In passing, let us say this care is more especially necessary in the kitchen sinks. They require a stronger suds, and more soda or lye, and more attention, to eat out all the grease that will accumulate in washing dishes.
The discoloration around the bell-pull, door-knobs, etc., shows that a careless girl has not protected the wall or paint while cleaning them, and the mistress has not kept her eyes open. A bit of oil-cloth, with a hole in the center, to slip over the knobs or bell-pulls while rubbing, would have saved this defacement of paint and paper. And the finger-marks on the doors also tell a sad story of neglect. They need to be washed off once a week—twice, if little fingers are about—with a soft flannel, wrung out of hot suds.
In the sitting-room, the mantel over the grate has not been washed every morning when the fire is lighted in the grate. It should be. See! the gas and smoke from coal or kindlings have turned the white marble quite yellow. Wash it in hot suds, strong with ammonia, to remove the spots, and then use a clean brush and hot suds every morning, and you will save much time, and be well rewarded with an unspotted mantel.
We can’t pry about any longer, but there is no knowing when we may be tempted again to meddle with our friends’ housekeeping.