AUTUMN.Radiantsunsets garneredThrough the bygone yearFrom the earth's deep bosom,Slowly now appear.Rainbow glories floodingForest, hill, and vale,With a ruby lustreAnd an amber pale.Now the forest minsterTrembles as each chordSwells the rocking pine treesOn the wind's keyboard.Till the music endethIn an accent drearWailing out a requiemTo the dying year.Earth her treasures gatheredFrom the seasons past.Heapeth them an off'ringOn an altar vast!Till the fires of HeavenCatch the ascending glow.And the heart of HeavenInto earth doth flow.Where is now the glory?Where is Autumn's glow?Passed into a furnaceWorking deep below.Forging through the darknessGems surpassing fair,That the coming springtimeIn her crown shall wear!Envoi.Garner—heart—the sunsetsOf thy passing years.Bygone strains of music,Remembered but in tears.Till thy sorrow's—silent,Alchemy transmute.And each broken reed of songGrows into a flute.V. R.
Radiantsunsets garneredThrough the bygone yearFrom the earth's deep bosom,Slowly now appear.Rainbow glories floodingForest, hill, and vale,With a ruby lustreAnd an amber pale.Now the forest minsterTrembles as each chordSwells the rocking pine treesOn the wind's keyboard.Till the music endethIn an accent drearWailing out a requiemTo the dying year.Earth her treasures gatheredFrom the seasons past.Heapeth them an off'ringOn an altar vast!Till the fires of HeavenCatch the ascending glow.And the heart of HeavenInto earth doth flow.Where is now the glory?Where is Autumn's glow?Passed into a furnaceWorking deep below.Forging through the darknessGems surpassing fair,That the coming springtimeIn her crown shall wear!
Radiantsunsets garneredThrough the bygone yearFrom the earth's deep bosom,Slowly now appear.Rainbow glories floodingForest, hill, and vale,With a ruby lustreAnd an amber pale.
Now the forest minsterTrembles as each chordSwells the rocking pine treesOn the wind's keyboard.Till the music endethIn an accent drearWailing out a requiemTo the dying year.
Earth her treasures gatheredFrom the seasons past.Heapeth them an off'ringOn an altar vast!Till the fires of HeavenCatch the ascending glow.And the heart of HeavenInto earth doth flow.
Where is now the glory?Where is Autumn's glow?Passed into a furnaceWorking deep below.Forging through the darknessGems surpassing fair,That the coming springtimeIn her crown shall wear!
Envoi.
Garner—heart—the sunsetsOf thy passing years.Bygone strains of music,Remembered but in tears.Till thy sorrow's—silent,Alchemy transmute.And each broken reed of songGrows into a flute.V. R.
Garner—heart—the sunsetsOf thy passing years.Bygone strains of music,Remembered but in tears.Till thy sorrow's—silent,Alchemy transmute.And each broken reed of songGrows into a flute.
V. R.
LILIAN'S FELLOW-TRAVELLER.ByROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY."Wherever in this world I am,In whatsoe'er estate;I have a fellowship with hearts,To keep and cultivate;And a work of lowly love to doFor the Lord on whom I wait."A. L. Waring."Nowthen, jump in, Lil! Hurry up, young woman! What is the matter with the girl! Has not the guard just told us that the train is crowded, and that there is not another seat?" and Ralph Moore took hold of his sister's arm rather impatiently. Lilian had her foot on the step; but she still hesitated, and there was a decided frown on her pretty face."It is quite full too," she said, rather crossly, "and it is so hot and stuffy;" and indeed, a crowded third-class compartment on a sultry August day is not a desirable locality; and Lilian's distaste and reluctance were only natural under the circumstances."There's no help for it—in you go!" muttered Ralph, in a gruff voice, and a pair of muscular arms lifted the girl in; and the next moment the guard gave the signal, and the train moved slowly away. Ralph grinned triumphantly, as he lifted his straw hat a little derisively to his sister. Sheer muscular force of argument had prevailed over a girl's contumacy."Little stupid!" he said to himself, as he whistled to his dogs. "I do believe she would rather have lost the train than put up with a little discomfort on the way."Lilian stood helplessly for a moment with her small Yorkshire terrier under her arm. No one moved or made room for her, until a cheery voice from the end of the compartment broke the silence."There is lots of room, miss, between those two ladies. Let me hold your basket, ma'am, until the young lady is settled," and then, with a discontented expression, Lilian wedged herself into the fraction of space assigned for her use."It is too bad of Ralph," she thought. "I shall get out at the next station; it is like the Black Hole in Calcutta; it is worse than a cattle-pen." On one side of her was the inevitable fat woman with a basket; on the other a shabby, red-faced widow, with a fretful baby; then came a couple of loutish-looking lads. On the seat opposite her there was a surly-looking man, and an old labourer in corduroy; two young market-women, with bundles of vegetables, and then the owner of the voice. Lilian regarded him with youthful arrogance and distrust. He looked like a shopman; he was a small, undersized young man, with a round boyish face. He had a thick crop of red hair, and looked as spruce as though he was out for a holiday; his red silk tie and the scarlet geranium in his buttonhole seemed to make a flaming spot of colour in the carriage."The sun is in your eyes, miss," he observed the next moment; "the curtain has got wrong somehow; but if one of you ladies could oblige me with a pin, I will soon fix it," and he regarded Lilian with an affable smile.[From photo: Photographic Union, Munich."RAINBOW GLORIES FLOODINGFOREST, HILL AND VALE.""It is of no consequence," she returned stiffly, drawing herself up. "Please do not trouble." In her present temper she would have rather endured any amount of discomfort than be indebted to that very officious, vulgar young man."Oh, it is no trouble"—with beaming good nature. "Thank you, ma'am"—as the widow gloomily produced a pin—"I will soon have things ship-shape. There, miss, you are more comfortable now."But though Lilian thanked him with some outward show of civility, she was inwardly chafing under what she chose to consider his impertinent freedom of address. She had done her duty and thanked him, and now she meant to ignore his existence; but she had reckoned without her host."Beg your pardon, miss," the brisk voice began again, "is your little dog a Yorkshire terrier? I never saw such a small one before.""Yes." Just this monosyllable and nothing more. She would keep him in his place; she was determined on that."He's a real beauty, if I may make so bold. May I ask his name? I am a dog-lover, miss, and always was.""Her name is Musüme.""Eh, what?" A pair of bright blue eyes regarded her and the dog with some perplexity."Musüme," dropped from Lilian's lips, but she frowned again."Is that Latin, miss? It ain't a word I know."Then Lilian turned almost fiercely on her tormentor."No; it is Japanese." But her manner was so repressive; it said so plainly, "How dare you address me in this familiar way?" that the young man flushed and looked a little disconcerted. This pretty young creature in the white dress had a decided temper."Beg pardon," she heard him mutter. "No offence, I hope." But the next moment he was on his feet again. The dust was dreadful; he must close the window. They were coming to Layton tunnel; he hoped the ladies would not be nervous, for he had discovered there was no light. Here Lilian glanced furtively at the gas-lamp overhead. Even when they had entered the tunnel the voice was still audible at intervals. "Beg pardon, ma'am." He had evidently trodden on the fat woman's toes. "Great Scott!" as a shrill whistle nearly deafened them, and one of the young market-women called out: "Bless your heart, ma'am, they are only a-clearing the way. There is no call to be frightened. Makes you feel a bit jumpy in the dark, so it does. Here we are in the light again, and we are slackening for the station. Shall I put down the window for a moment, miss, just to give us an airing?" But Lilian took no notice, and the next moment the train stopped.The carriage seemed emptying. First the loutish lads and the surly man got out, then the labourer and the red-faced widow, the fat woman and the two young market-women followed, and yes—oh, the joy of it!—her red-headed tormentor was getting out too.Lilian put down Musüme that she might stretch her little legs, then she established herself in the fat woman's corner, and pulled the curtain across the dusty window—the heat would be more bearable now. Then Musüme uttered a shrill little bark and fled growling to her mistress as some one entered with a flying leap. It was the red-headed young man. Lilian nearly gasped, but there was no time to leave the carriage, for the whistle had already sounded."Just saved myself by the skin of my teeth," observed the young fellow, in his chirpy voice. He had aGraphicand a bag of greengages, and seemed more cheerful than ever."Like to see theGraphic, miss?" holding out the paper with an ingratiating smile that seemed to say, "Let's be sociable.""Thanks very much, but I've seen it"—distinctly a white lie."Dear, what a bad job"—in a disappointed tone. "I could easily have gotBlack and Whiteor theSketch.""Thank you"—in a freezing tone. "I do not care to read.""Ah, you prefer to look at the scenery; know every yard of it myself between Layton and Brocklebank. My old mother lives at Brocklebank." (Lilian had a mother, too, at Brocklebank, but she kept this fact to herself.) "Beg pardon, may I offer you some greengages? They are very sweet and juicy.""No, thank you," and then Lilian attempted a yawn and closed her eyes. Sleep was never farther from her, but she saw no other way of reducing him to silence, absurd and officious as he was; she had no wish to quarrel with him; it was evident the poor creature knew no better, she said to herself, with a superb tolerance.Once when the silence had lasted a long time, she peeped through her fingers at him.He was in a high state of enjoyment; he had theGraphicon his knee, and the open bag stood at his elbow; his hat was off, and his red crop gleamed in the sunshine, his round face and wide open blue eyes made him look like a radiant infant."I don't believe there's any harm in him; he can't help being vulgar," thought Lilian. "It was really very good-natured of him to offer to share his fruit with me; there goes another stone. Mr. Redhead evidently has a fancy for greengages."Lilian's sense of humour, always her strong point, was overcoming her moodiness. She was just then thinking how she would dramatise the situation for Ralph's benefit, when a sudden shock hurled her to the other end of the carriage."Beg pardon—hold on, miss—I believe we are in for a scrimmage, as sure as my name's Tom Hunter," but before the words were out of his mouth, there was a second shock; then darkness, a crash, terrified screams, and then Lilian heard no more."Beg pardon, miss, but if you are alive——" These were the first words that greeted Lilian on her return to consciousness. Where was she? Where had she heard that voice? Why was it dark? had she fainted? What was that heaving substance under her?"Beg pardon, but if you could move a little, miss. I am a bit crushed and numb-like."Then recollection returned to the girl. There had been a railway accident. They were in it. That poor fellow was under her. If she could only raise herself; if she could reach the window. What was it over her head? Then as the light of a friendly lantern flashed across the carriage she screamed loudly,"Help—help, for mercy's sake!""Shift that lantern, Jones, there is some poor body here," exclaimed a voice near them. Then the door was wrenched open and strong hands grasped the girl and lifted her out. "There's another down there. I am afraid he is badly hurt. You had better hail the chap who says he is a doctor.""Come along with me, miss," said a second voice; "we are just at the mouth of the tunnel, but you will have to clamber a bit over the wreckage. Can you walk—all right, we'll be out in a minute."But it looked longer than that before Lilian saw the blessed sunshine again."Then you can sit on the grass," continued the friendly porter, "while we bring the young man round. You are not much hurt, miss; that's a blessing." And then he hurried off, and Lilian, shaken and miserable, and bruised all over, sank down on a patch of long grass.She remembered afterwards how gay the poppies looked, then she hid her eyes and sobbed, as a broken inert form was carried past her."In the midst of life we are in death." The words came to her, and she said them over and over again. "In the midst of life we are in death." Slow, stumbling footsteps approaching, but she dare not look up. How could she know what ghastly burden they were carrying."Steady, you fellows. Lay him down and put something under his head. No, there is nothing to be done; but, poor chap, he will not suffer. I must see to that broken leg now.""Perhaps this young lady will stop a bit," observed the friendly porter. "Help me a moment, mate, while I shift this 'ere jacket under his head. If we had only a drop of something—not that it would be any good."Surely they were not leaving her alone with a dying man. Lilian started up in sudden terror; then a feeble voice arrested her."Don't go, miss—please don't leave me; you heard what that chap said"—and here a pair of boyish blue eyes looked pitifully at her; then a great wave of womanly sympathy made Lilian forget her bruises and nervous fears.Could that rigid-looking figure—that colourless face with the grey shade of death already stealing over the features—be her light-hearted and officious fellow-traveller? A sob broke from Lilian's lips."Oh, I am so sorry—so sorry!""Don't take on, miss—I ain't in pain—only numb and curious-like; but it seems hard, don't it"—his dry lips twitching as he spoke—"that a fellow's holiday should end like this.""Yes, yes, terribly hard! Is there anything I can do for you?" And Lilian knelt beside him, and the tears were running down her face—some of the warm drops fell on the motionless hand."Beg pardon, miss, but there's my old mother and Susie—Susie is my girl, you know—she is stopping along of mother just now"—here the panting voice grew fainter."Tell me your mother's name. I will go and see her.""Will you now"—rousing up—"I call that real kind. Mrs. Hunter; she keeps the sweet-shop in Market Street, Brocklebank. I am her only son, miss," and then almost inaudibly, "she is a widow.""Yes—yes—I will find her. I live at Brocklebank. Give me your message please?""Tom's love. And do you think, miss, you could put your hand in my pocket, there's the Testament mother gave me when I went up to London"—and then with some difficulty Lilian extracted a little red book. "Tom's love, and tell mother, please, that I minded her words and read a few verses every day, and that it helped me to keep straight.""I will tell her, Tom—every word.""And there's Susie, miss—I bought a bit of a brooch for her; it is in my waistcoat pocket—tell her not to fret; for I loved her true—aye, I loved her true! How dark it is getting, miss! Perhaps you could say a prayer for me?""My poor fellow—yes—shall we say the Lord's Prayer together." But after the first petition Lilian said it alone, the blue eyes were growing filmy, the hand she held felt cold to her touch. The porters had come back and were standing near, cap in hand; one of them had tears in his eyes. "Poor chap, he is going fast, mate," he whispered. Lilian heard them, and her voice shook with intense emotion. "Oh, Saviour of the world," she prayed, "who by Thy cross and precious blood has redeemed us, save him and help him, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.""That is all; every word, Mrs. Hunter. Does it not make you happy to know that he read his Bible and kept straight?" And Lilian looked anxiously into the mother's wrinkled face. Tom had got his blue eyes from his mother."Aye, the Lord be praised for that; but I never feared for Tom. He was always straight. It seems to me that he was better than other boys. Never was there a sweeter-tempered lad," murmured Mrs. Hunter. "Susie there will tell you the same. He was never happy unless he was doing kind things. Even as a baby he would give me his crust if I asked for it. It did not seem as though he could keep anything to himself." And here the widow sobbed and put her apron to her eyes. "And to think that my boy, my Tom, was to have his dear life crushed out of him in a railway accident! That is what Susie and I have been saying. If he had only died in his bed.""It seems hard, Mrs. Hunter, almost cruel, does it not?"—and here there was a lump in Lilian's throat. "It was his holiday, and he was going home to his mother and sweetheart, but God called him and he went straight to his Father's house instead. Perhaps there was work for him to do up there. Oh, we cannot tell, but God knows best, and he will be waiting there for you and Susie. You believe that, do you not, dear Mrs. Hunter?" And then she added solemnly, "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."
ByROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY.
"Wherever in this world I am,In whatsoe'er estate;I have a fellowship with hearts,To keep and cultivate;And a work of lowly love to doFor the Lord on whom I wait."A. L. Waring.
"Wherever in this world I am,In whatsoe'er estate;I have a fellowship with hearts,To keep and cultivate;And a work of lowly love to doFor the Lord on whom I wait."
A. L. Waring.
"Nowthen, jump in, Lil! Hurry up, young woman! What is the matter with the girl! Has not the guard just told us that the train is crowded, and that there is not another seat?" and Ralph Moore took hold of his sister's arm rather impatiently. Lilian had her foot on the step; but she still hesitated, and there was a decided frown on her pretty face.
"It is quite full too," she said, rather crossly, "and it is so hot and stuffy;" and indeed, a crowded third-class compartment on a sultry August day is not a desirable locality; and Lilian's distaste and reluctance were only natural under the circumstances.
"There's no help for it—in you go!" muttered Ralph, in a gruff voice, and a pair of muscular arms lifted the girl in; and the next moment the guard gave the signal, and the train moved slowly away. Ralph grinned triumphantly, as he lifted his straw hat a little derisively to his sister. Sheer muscular force of argument had prevailed over a girl's contumacy.
"Little stupid!" he said to himself, as he whistled to his dogs. "I do believe she would rather have lost the train than put up with a little discomfort on the way."
Lilian stood helplessly for a moment with her small Yorkshire terrier under her arm. No one moved or made room for her, until a cheery voice from the end of the compartment broke the silence.
"There is lots of room, miss, between those two ladies. Let me hold your basket, ma'am, until the young lady is settled," and then, with a discontented expression, Lilian wedged herself into the fraction of space assigned for her use.
"It is too bad of Ralph," she thought. "I shall get out at the next station; it is like the Black Hole in Calcutta; it is worse than a cattle-pen." On one side of her was the inevitable fat woman with a basket; on the other a shabby, red-faced widow, with a fretful baby; then came a couple of loutish-looking lads. On the seat opposite her there was a surly-looking man, and an old labourer in corduroy; two young market-women, with bundles of vegetables, and then the owner of the voice. Lilian regarded him with youthful arrogance and distrust. He looked like a shopman; he was a small, undersized young man, with a round boyish face. He had a thick crop of red hair, and looked as spruce as though he was out for a holiday; his red silk tie and the scarlet geranium in his buttonhole seemed to make a flaming spot of colour in the carriage.
"The sun is in your eyes, miss," he observed the next moment; "the curtain has got wrong somehow; but if one of you ladies could oblige me with a pin, I will soon fix it," and he regarded Lilian with an affable smile.
[From photo: Photographic Union, Munich."RAINBOW GLORIES FLOODINGFOREST, HILL AND VALE."
[From photo: Photographic Union, Munich."RAINBOW GLORIES FLOODINGFOREST, HILL AND VALE."
[From photo: Photographic Union, Munich.
"RAINBOW GLORIES FLOODINGFOREST, HILL AND VALE."
"It is of no consequence," she returned stiffly, drawing herself up. "Please do not trouble." In her present temper she would have rather endured any amount of discomfort than be indebted to that very officious, vulgar young man.
"Oh, it is no trouble"—with beaming good nature. "Thank you, ma'am"—as the widow gloomily produced a pin—"I will soon have things ship-shape. There, miss, you are more comfortable now."
But though Lilian thanked him with some outward show of civility, she was inwardly chafing under what she chose to consider his impertinent freedom of address. She had done her duty and thanked him, and now she meant to ignore his existence; but she had reckoned without her host.
"Beg your pardon, miss," the brisk voice began again, "is your little dog a Yorkshire terrier? I never saw such a small one before."
"Yes." Just this monosyllable and nothing more. She would keep him in his place; she was determined on that.
"He's a real beauty, if I may make so bold. May I ask his name? I am a dog-lover, miss, and always was."
"Her name is Musüme."
"Eh, what?" A pair of bright blue eyes regarded her and the dog with some perplexity.
"Musüme," dropped from Lilian's lips, but she frowned again.
"Is that Latin, miss? It ain't a word I know."
Then Lilian turned almost fiercely on her tormentor.
"No; it is Japanese." But her manner was so repressive; it said so plainly, "How dare you address me in this familiar way?" that the young man flushed and looked a little disconcerted. This pretty young creature in the white dress had a decided temper.
"Beg pardon," she heard him mutter. "No offence, I hope." But the next moment he was on his feet again. The dust was dreadful; he must close the window. They were coming to Layton tunnel; he hoped the ladies would not be nervous, for he had discovered there was no light. Here Lilian glanced furtively at the gas-lamp overhead. Even when they had entered the tunnel the voice was still audible at intervals. "Beg pardon, ma'am." He had evidently trodden on the fat woman's toes. "Great Scott!" as a shrill whistle nearly deafened them, and one of the young market-women called out: "Bless your heart, ma'am, they are only a-clearing the way. There is no call to be frightened. Makes you feel a bit jumpy in the dark, so it does. Here we are in the light again, and we are slackening for the station. Shall I put down the window for a moment, miss, just to give us an airing?" But Lilian took no notice, and the next moment the train stopped.
The carriage seemed emptying. First the loutish lads and the surly man got out, then the labourer and the red-faced widow, the fat woman and the two young market-women followed, and yes—oh, the joy of it!—her red-headed tormentor was getting out too.
Lilian put down Musüme that she might stretch her little legs, then she established herself in the fat woman's corner, and pulled the curtain across the dusty window—the heat would be more bearable now. Then Musüme uttered a shrill little bark and fled growling to her mistress as some one entered with a flying leap. It was the red-headed young man. Lilian nearly gasped, but there was no time to leave the carriage, for the whistle had already sounded.
"Just saved myself by the skin of my teeth," observed the young fellow, in his chirpy voice. He had aGraphicand a bag of greengages, and seemed more cheerful than ever.
"Like to see theGraphic, miss?" holding out the paper with an ingratiating smile that seemed to say, "Let's be sociable."
"Thanks very much, but I've seen it"—distinctly a white lie.
"Dear, what a bad job"—in a disappointed tone. "I could easily have gotBlack and Whiteor theSketch."
"Thank you"—in a freezing tone. "I do not care to read."
"Ah, you prefer to look at the scenery; know every yard of it myself between Layton and Brocklebank. My old mother lives at Brocklebank." (Lilian had a mother, too, at Brocklebank, but she kept this fact to herself.) "Beg pardon, may I offer you some greengages? They are very sweet and juicy."
"No, thank you," and then Lilian attempted a yawn and closed her eyes. Sleep was never farther from her, but she saw no other way of reducing him to silence, absurd and officious as he was; she had no wish to quarrel with him; it was evident the poor creature knew no better, she said to herself, with a superb tolerance.
Once when the silence had lasted a long time, she peeped through her fingers at him.
He was in a high state of enjoyment; he had theGraphicon his knee, and the open bag stood at his elbow; his hat was off, and his red crop gleamed in the sunshine, his round face and wide open blue eyes made him look like a radiant infant.
"I don't believe there's any harm in him; he can't help being vulgar," thought Lilian. "It was really very good-natured of him to offer to share his fruit with me; there goes another stone. Mr. Redhead evidently has a fancy for greengages."
Lilian's sense of humour, always her strong point, was overcoming her moodiness. She was just then thinking how she would dramatise the situation for Ralph's benefit, when a sudden shock hurled her to the other end of the carriage.
"Beg pardon—hold on, miss—I believe we are in for a scrimmage, as sure as my name's Tom Hunter," but before the words were out of his mouth, there was a second shock; then darkness, a crash, terrified screams, and then Lilian heard no more.
"Beg pardon, miss, but if you are alive——" These were the first words that greeted Lilian on her return to consciousness. Where was she? Where had she heard that voice? Why was it dark? had she fainted? What was that heaving substance under her?
"Beg pardon, but if you could move a little, miss. I am a bit crushed and numb-like."
Then recollection returned to the girl. There had been a railway accident. They were in it. That poor fellow was under her. If she could only raise herself; if she could reach the window. What was it over her head? Then as the light of a friendly lantern flashed across the carriage she screamed loudly,
"Help—help, for mercy's sake!"
"Shift that lantern, Jones, there is some poor body here," exclaimed a voice near them. Then the door was wrenched open and strong hands grasped the girl and lifted her out. "There's another down there. I am afraid he is badly hurt. You had better hail the chap who says he is a doctor."
"Come along with me, miss," said a second voice; "we are just at the mouth of the tunnel, but you will have to clamber a bit over the wreckage. Can you walk—all right, we'll be out in a minute."
But it looked longer than that before Lilian saw the blessed sunshine again.
"Then you can sit on the grass," continued the friendly porter, "while we bring the young man round. You are not much hurt, miss; that's a blessing." And then he hurried off, and Lilian, shaken and miserable, and bruised all over, sank down on a patch of long grass.
She remembered afterwards how gay the poppies looked, then she hid her eyes and sobbed, as a broken inert form was carried past her.
"In the midst of life we are in death." The words came to her, and she said them over and over again. "In the midst of life we are in death." Slow, stumbling footsteps approaching, but she dare not look up. How could she know what ghastly burden they were carrying.
"Steady, you fellows. Lay him down and put something under his head. No, there is nothing to be done; but, poor chap, he will not suffer. I must see to that broken leg now."
"Perhaps this young lady will stop a bit," observed the friendly porter. "Help me a moment, mate, while I shift this 'ere jacket under his head. If we had only a drop of something—not that it would be any good."
Surely they were not leaving her alone with a dying man. Lilian started up in sudden terror; then a feeble voice arrested her.
"Don't go, miss—please don't leave me; you heard what that chap said"—and here a pair of boyish blue eyes looked pitifully at her; then a great wave of womanly sympathy made Lilian forget her bruises and nervous fears.
Could that rigid-looking figure—that colourless face with the grey shade of death already stealing over the features—be her light-hearted and officious fellow-traveller? A sob broke from Lilian's lips.
"Oh, I am so sorry—so sorry!"
"Don't take on, miss—I ain't in pain—only numb and curious-like; but it seems hard, don't it"—his dry lips twitching as he spoke—"that a fellow's holiday should end like this."
"Yes, yes, terribly hard! Is there anything I can do for you?" And Lilian knelt beside him, and the tears were running down her face—some of the warm drops fell on the motionless hand.
"Beg pardon, miss, but there's my old mother and Susie—Susie is my girl, you know—she is stopping along of mother just now"—here the panting voice grew fainter.
"Tell me your mother's name. I will go and see her."
"Will you now"—rousing up—"I call that real kind. Mrs. Hunter; she keeps the sweet-shop in Market Street, Brocklebank. I am her only son, miss," and then almost inaudibly, "she is a widow."
"Yes—yes—I will find her. I live at Brocklebank. Give me your message please?"
"Tom's love. And do you think, miss, you could put your hand in my pocket, there's the Testament mother gave me when I went up to London"—and then with some difficulty Lilian extracted a little red book. "Tom's love, and tell mother, please, that I minded her words and read a few verses every day, and that it helped me to keep straight."
"I will tell her, Tom—every word."
"And there's Susie, miss—I bought a bit of a brooch for her; it is in my waistcoat pocket—tell her not to fret; for I loved her true—aye, I loved her true! How dark it is getting, miss! Perhaps you could say a prayer for me?"
"My poor fellow—yes—shall we say the Lord's Prayer together." But after the first petition Lilian said it alone, the blue eyes were growing filmy, the hand she held felt cold to her touch. The porters had come back and were standing near, cap in hand; one of them had tears in his eyes. "Poor chap, he is going fast, mate," he whispered. Lilian heard them, and her voice shook with intense emotion. "Oh, Saviour of the world," she prayed, "who by Thy cross and precious blood has redeemed us, save him and help him, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord."
"That is all; every word, Mrs. Hunter. Does it not make you happy to know that he read his Bible and kept straight?" And Lilian looked anxiously into the mother's wrinkled face. Tom had got his blue eyes from his mother.
"Aye, the Lord be praised for that; but I never feared for Tom. He was always straight. It seems to me that he was better than other boys. Never was there a sweeter-tempered lad," murmured Mrs. Hunter. "Susie there will tell you the same. He was never happy unless he was doing kind things. Even as a baby he would give me his crust if I asked for it. It did not seem as though he could keep anything to himself." And here the widow sobbed and put her apron to her eyes. "And to think that my boy, my Tom, was to have his dear life crushed out of him in a railway accident! That is what Susie and I have been saying. If he had only died in his bed."
"It seems hard, Mrs. Hunter, almost cruel, does it not?"—and here there was a lump in Lilian's throat. "It was his holiday, and he was going home to his mother and sweetheart, but God called him and he went straight to his Father's house instead. Perhaps there was work for him to do up there. Oh, we cannot tell, but God knows best, and he will be waiting there for you and Susie. You believe that, do you not, dear Mrs. Hunter?" And then she added solemnly, "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."
INVALID COOKERY.Beef Tea.Ingredients.—One pound of shin of beef, one pint of water, a little salt, a few drops of lemon juice.Method.—Take away all skin and fat from the beef, and shred it finely, putting it as you do so into a jar with the water, lemon juice, and salt; put on the lid and let it stand half an hour; stand the jar on a dripping tin with cold water, and put it in the oven for two hours. Stir up, pour off against the lid and remove any fat with kitchen paper.Quick Beef Tea.Ingredients.—Same as preceding.Method.—Cut the meat up small and let it stand in the water twenty minutes; put in a saucepan and let it just heat through, pressing the pieces against the side with a wooden spoon.Raw Beef Tea.Ingredients.—Same as preceding.Method.—Prepare as in the first recipe for beef tea; cover closely and let it stand for two hours; stir up and pour off. This must be made fresh often as it soon turns sour.Strengthening Broth.Method.—Take equal quantities of beef, mutton, and veal, and prepare in the same way as ordinary beef tea.Mutton Broth.Ingredients.—One pound of scrag of mutton, one pint of water, two ounces of pearl barley, salt, a blade of mace, a little chopped parsley.Method.—Cut as much fat as possible from the meat; cut the meat up small and chop the bones; put the meat and bones in a saucepan with the water, mace, salt and barley, which should be blanched (see "Odds and Ends"). Put on the lid and simmer very gently for two hours. Stir up and pour off against the lid into a basin; stand in cold water in a larger basin for the fat to rise, skim well, re-heat and add a little chopped and blanched parsley.Essence of Beef.Ingredients.—One pound of shin of beef, two tablespoonfuls of water, a little salt, a few drops of lemon juice.Method.—Scrape the meat, put it in a jar with the water, salt, and lemon juice; put on the lid and stand the jar in a saucepan of boiling water; let the water boil round it four hours. Stir up and pour off.Raw Meat Sandwiches.Method.—Scrape a little raw beef finely and put a little piece in the middle of some tiny squares of thin bread, cover with other squares and press the edges tightly together with a knife so that the meat may not show.Meat Custard.Ingredients.—One large egg, half a gill of beef tea.Method.—Beat the egg and beef tea together and steam in a buttered teacup for twenty minutes.A Cup of Arrowroot.Ingredients.—Half a pint of milk, one ounce of arrowroot, one ounce of castor-sugar.Method.—Mix the arrowroot smoothly with a little cold milk; boil the rest of the milk and stir in the arrowroot; stir and boil well, taking care it does not burn.Cornflour Soufflée.Ingredients.—Half a pint of milk, one egg, one ounce of cornflour, one ounce and a half of castor sugar, one bay leaf.Method.—Mix the cornflour smoothly with a little cold milk; boil the rest with the bay leaf and sugar; stir in the cornflour and let it thicken in the milk; separate the white and yolk of the egg and beat in the yolk when the cornflour has cooled a little; beat the white very stiffly and stir it in very lightly. Pour into a buttered pie-dish, and bake in a good oven until well thrown up and a good light brown colour.Custard Shape.Ingredients.—Half a pint of milk, two eggs, quarter of an ounce of gelatine, two ounces of castor sugar, vanilla.Method.—Beat up the eggs with the sugar and milk; pour into a jug, stand in a saucepan of boiling water and stir with the handle of a wooden spoon until it thickens; dissolve the gelatine in it, flavoured with vanilla, pour into a wetted mould and turn out when set.Sponge Cake Pudding.Ingredients.—Two stale sponge cakes, three eggs, half a pint of milk, two ounces of castor sugar, a piece of thin lemon rind.Method.—Boil the milk with the rind and the sugar; let it cool a little and add the eggs well beaten; cut the sponge cakes in pieces and lay them in a buttered tin, pour the custard over and bake gently until set. Turn out and set cold.Lemonade.Ingredients.—Two large lemons, one quart of water, a quarter of a pound of castor sugar.Method.—Pare the lemons very thinly, so that the rind is yellow both sides, put the rind with the sugar and the lemon-juice in a jug, pour boiling water on it, and let it stand till cold, strain and use.Barley Water.Ingredients.—Two ounces of pearl barley, one quart of water, a small piece of lemon rind, one ounce and a half of castor sugar.Method.—Blanch the barley; put it in a saucepan with the lemon-rind and sugar, and simmer gently one hour. Strain and use.Toast and Water.Method.—Toast a piece of bread until nearly black. Put it in a jug and pour cold water on it.
Beef Tea.
Ingredients.—One pound of shin of beef, one pint of water, a little salt, a few drops of lemon juice.
Method.—Take away all skin and fat from the beef, and shred it finely, putting it as you do so into a jar with the water, lemon juice, and salt; put on the lid and let it stand half an hour; stand the jar on a dripping tin with cold water, and put it in the oven for two hours. Stir up, pour off against the lid and remove any fat with kitchen paper.
Quick Beef Tea.
Ingredients.—Same as preceding.
Method.—Cut the meat up small and let it stand in the water twenty minutes; put in a saucepan and let it just heat through, pressing the pieces against the side with a wooden spoon.
Raw Beef Tea.
Ingredients.—Same as preceding.
Method.—Prepare as in the first recipe for beef tea; cover closely and let it stand for two hours; stir up and pour off. This must be made fresh often as it soon turns sour.
Strengthening Broth.
Method.—Take equal quantities of beef, mutton, and veal, and prepare in the same way as ordinary beef tea.
Mutton Broth.
Ingredients.—One pound of scrag of mutton, one pint of water, two ounces of pearl barley, salt, a blade of mace, a little chopped parsley.
Method.—Cut as much fat as possible from the meat; cut the meat up small and chop the bones; put the meat and bones in a saucepan with the water, mace, salt and barley, which should be blanched (see "Odds and Ends"). Put on the lid and simmer very gently for two hours. Stir up and pour off against the lid into a basin; stand in cold water in a larger basin for the fat to rise, skim well, re-heat and add a little chopped and blanched parsley.
Essence of Beef.
Ingredients.—One pound of shin of beef, two tablespoonfuls of water, a little salt, a few drops of lemon juice.
Method.—Scrape the meat, put it in a jar with the water, salt, and lemon juice; put on the lid and stand the jar in a saucepan of boiling water; let the water boil round it four hours. Stir up and pour off.
Raw Meat Sandwiches.
Method.—Scrape a little raw beef finely and put a little piece in the middle of some tiny squares of thin bread, cover with other squares and press the edges tightly together with a knife so that the meat may not show.
Meat Custard.
Ingredients.—One large egg, half a gill of beef tea.
Method.—Beat the egg and beef tea together and steam in a buttered teacup for twenty minutes.
A Cup of Arrowroot.
Ingredients.—Half a pint of milk, one ounce of arrowroot, one ounce of castor-sugar.
Method.—Mix the arrowroot smoothly with a little cold milk; boil the rest of the milk and stir in the arrowroot; stir and boil well, taking care it does not burn.
Cornflour Soufflée.
Ingredients.—Half a pint of milk, one egg, one ounce of cornflour, one ounce and a half of castor sugar, one bay leaf.
Method.—Mix the cornflour smoothly with a little cold milk; boil the rest with the bay leaf and sugar; stir in the cornflour and let it thicken in the milk; separate the white and yolk of the egg and beat in the yolk when the cornflour has cooled a little; beat the white very stiffly and stir it in very lightly. Pour into a buttered pie-dish, and bake in a good oven until well thrown up and a good light brown colour.
Custard Shape.
Ingredients.—Half a pint of milk, two eggs, quarter of an ounce of gelatine, two ounces of castor sugar, vanilla.
Method.—Beat up the eggs with the sugar and milk; pour into a jug, stand in a saucepan of boiling water and stir with the handle of a wooden spoon until it thickens; dissolve the gelatine in it, flavoured with vanilla, pour into a wetted mould and turn out when set.
Sponge Cake Pudding.
Ingredients.—Two stale sponge cakes, three eggs, half a pint of milk, two ounces of castor sugar, a piece of thin lemon rind.
Method.—Boil the milk with the rind and the sugar; let it cool a little and add the eggs well beaten; cut the sponge cakes in pieces and lay them in a buttered tin, pour the custard over and bake gently until set. Turn out and set cold.
Lemonade.
Ingredients.—Two large lemons, one quart of water, a quarter of a pound of castor sugar.
Method.—Pare the lemons very thinly, so that the rind is yellow both sides, put the rind with the sugar and the lemon-juice in a jug, pour boiling water on it, and let it stand till cold, strain and use.
Barley Water.
Ingredients.—Two ounces of pearl barley, one quart of water, a small piece of lemon rind, one ounce and a half of castor sugar.
Method.—Blanch the barley; put it in a saucepan with the lemon-rind and sugar, and simmer gently one hour. Strain and use.
Toast and Water.
Method.—Toast a piece of bread until nearly black. Put it in a jug and pour cold water on it.
ART IN THE HOUSE.HOW TO DECORATE AND FURNISH A GIRL'S BED SITTING-ROOM.PART I.Doing up old Furniture.I wantto make these articles entirely practical and within the scope of the readers ofThe Girl's Own Paper, so I take a girl's room—a bed sitting-room, because I feel sure that I shall appeal to a wider circle than if I merely dealt with the decoration of a sitting-room only, and I shall hope to show her how much the girl owner may do herself in the beautifying of her "den." I want to avoid launching into expense, so I shall first of all deal with the doing up of old furniture, for in every house one finds what may be called derelicts, articles of furniture which have outwardly at least had their day, and yet like many an old weather-beaten craft there is a lot of good work still in them if one takes a little trouble and spends a little time in putting on a coat or two of paint and a little varnish.I had myself three such derelicts, one a chiffonier which had originally been grained in imitation of mahogany, but which had got chipped and worn until it looked worth nothing more than firing. Yet as a piece of woodwork it was in good condition, for I daresay it was fifty years old, when furniture was much better made than it is now. The first thing was to clean it thoroughly, and to this end I got some soft soap and an old painter's brush (a good scrubbing brush will do), and with some boiling hot water gave it a thorough cleansing. It took some time to do this, for the dirt had collected in the corners, and the grease from two generations of dirty fingers had to be removed. It is most important where you are going to paint to have every vestige of grease removed; otherwise your paint will not dry. While you are washing it have a piece of pumice-stone (procurable at a good oil shop or decorator's colourman), and thoroughly rub down all the old paint so as to remove any roughnesses, blisters or other blemishes, and obtain a nice smooth surface. Don't hurry this part of the work, as much of the after success depends upon your preliminary efforts. Give the furniture a rinse in clean hot water and then wipe it dry with an old towel. The next day or within an hour or two it is ready for the first coat of paint.FIG. 1.—Chiffonier painted white and decorated with stencilling.Plain Painting.I like white painted furniture, so I shall assume here that you will also paint your furniture white or cream, and I shall reserve my remarks on painting in darker tones of colour for another occasion. White goes with anything and is easily decorated, as I shall hope to show. For a girl's room it looks cool, clean and dainty. White paint can be bought ready mixed, either in tins or by the pound, and if you know a reliable decorator you might purchase some off him ready for use, but of course you have to pay him for his trouble, and what you buy in tins is not only much more expensive than if you mix it up yourself, but is often adulterated. It is very little trouble to mix it yourself, and about half the price, so I will tell you how to set about this. Buy at some good oil shop or decorators say a couple of pounds of white lead ground in oil, a pint of best linseed oil, a pennyworth of patent driers and a pint of turpentine. The whole lot will cost you about 1s. 1d. A patent tobacco tin with a lid is a useful thing to keep your paint in, as when not in use the lid will keep it air-tight, and your paint will keep for a long time if not exposed to the air. Cover the lead with oil and if it is in a pound tin the oil should be an inch or more above the lead. Stir up with a palette knife to allow the oil to mix with the white, and add a tablespoonful or so of turps, and in a few hours the white will become the consistency of cream. If you find it too thick add more oil and a little turps and the driers, and proceed to strain through a piece of muslin. If you have another empty tin strain your paint into it by putting the muslin loosely over the empty tin, pouring some colour into the muslin and working it through by brushing it every now and again with a hog hair brush. The paint will gradually pass through the muslin, leaving any sediment or bits behind, and you then pour out a little more colour and work through, and so on until all is strained. You can finally squeeze the muslin with your palette knife against the side of the tin, but be careful not to allow any of the bits to pass through into your strained paint. The proportion of turps to oil should be one of former to three of latter, and of driers a piece the size of a walnut to the pound, but the tradesman of whom you buy your colour will tell you this. The paint for use should be the consistency of cream (not clotted or thickened) and should be put on evenly with a good brush, so you put enough oil and turps to make it this consistency. The brush is a very important item, and this is why amateur painters so often fail; they haven't a decent brush to work with. A good house painter's brush which has been in use some time is the ideal tool, and if you can borrow or hire such a one do. A wide, flat hog, say three inches wide will do, but it will not hold the colour that a house painter's brush will, and the constant filling of it adds to the labour of painting. Your brush should carry its colour so that you only have to use force enough to work the colour out on to your surface. You don't try to load the furniture with colour, but get on so much as easily passes from the brush to the wood. In filling your brush only dip the end into the paint, and then knock it against the side of pot or tin so as to distribute it through the hair and then it will not drop about when you use it. So many amateurs try to get a lot of colour on at once, and so get it on too thickly in places. Remember that you can only get a good surface by applying some three or four coats. Your first coat, as the under colour is dark, will look very dirty and thin, but this first coat is only a grounding one. The second coat, which must be applied when the first is quite dry, say in two days, will look much better, while the fourth coat ought to look nice and white. A painter to get a good surface keeps his paint the way of the grain of the wood. Thus the panel of the door would be vertical in grain, the drawer front horizontal. Take the panel for instance. You will get your colour on using your brush up and down. When it is covered "stroke" the paint evenly from left to right, and then "stroke" it again up and down. This will distribute the colour evenly, and if you do this carefully you will obtain a good surface.Allow plenty of time between each coat, as to paint over a surface not quite hard will cause your paint to crack. If you find after your first coat that there are any cracks or holes in the old paint take a little of the stiff white lead, and with a little driers added to it use it as putty and stop up any places, levelling it over smoothly with a knife. By the time your last coat is on such defects ought not to show. If you decide not to decorate your furniture, as I have shown in illustration, then instead of using paint for the last coat buy a tin of white, ivory or cream enamel and use to finish. The enamel is not so easy to get on as paint owing to its sticky nature. You must apply it freely, but don't load it on, for the more evenly you apply it the better will it look. One coat will suffice if you have three good coats of paint underneath. When your brushes are not in use put them into a gallipot or other vessel half filled with water.(To be continued.)FIG. 2.—Top of chiffonier decorated with stencilling. The two plants used are the dandelion and cyclamen.
HOW TO DECORATE AND FURNISH A GIRL'S BED SITTING-ROOM.
Doing up old Furniture.
I wantto make these articles entirely practical and within the scope of the readers ofThe Girl's Own Paper, so I take a girl's room—a bed sitting-room, because I feel sure that I shall appeal to a wider circle than if I merely dealt with the decoration of a sitting-room only, and I shall hope to show her how much the girl owner may do herself in the beautifying of her "den." I want to avoid launching into expense, so I shall first of all deal with the doing up of old furniture, for in every house one finds what may be called derelicts, articles of furniture which have outwardly at least had their day, and yet like many an old weather-beaten craft there is a lot of good work still in them if one takes a little trouble and spends a little time in putting on a coat or two of paint and a little varnish.
I had myself three such derelicts, one a chiffonier which had originally been grained in imitation of mahogany, but which had got chipped and worn until it looked worth nothing more than firing. Yet as a piece of woodwork it was in good condition, for I daresay it was fifty years old, when furniture was much better made than it is now. The first thing was to clean it thoroughly, and to this end I got some soft soap and an old painter's brush (a good scrubbing brush will do), and with some boiling hot water gave it a thorough cleansing. It took some time to do this, for the dirt had collected in the corners, and the grease from two generations of dirty fingers had to be removed. It is most important where you are going to paint to have every vestige of grease removed; otherwise your paint will not dry. While you are washing it have a piece of pumice-stone (procurable at a good oil shop or decorator's colourman), and thoroughly rub down all the old paint so as to remove any roughnesses, blisters or other blemishes, and obtain a nice smooth surface. Don't hurry this part of the work, as much of the after success depends upon your preliminary efforts. Give the furniture a rinse in clean hot water and then wipe it dry with an old towel. The next day or within an hour or two it is ready for the first coat of paint.
FIG. 1.—Chiffonier painted white and decorated with stencilling.
FIG. 1.—Chiffonier painted white and decorated with stencilling.
Plain Painting.
I like white painted furniture, so I shall assume here that you will also paint your furniture white or cream, and I shall reserve my remarks on painting in darker tones of colour for another occasion. White goes with anything and is easily decorated, as I shall hope to show. For a girl's room it looks cool, clean and dainty. White paint can be bought ready mixed, either in tins or by the pound, and if you know a reliable decorator you might purchase some off him ready for use, but of course you have to pay him for his trouble, and what you buy in tins is not only much more expensive than if you mix it up yourself, but is often adulterated. It is very little trouble to mix it yourself, and about half the price, so I will tell you how to set about this. Buy at some good oil shop or decorators say a couple of pounds of white lead ground in oil, a pint of best linseed oil, a pennyworth of patent driers and a pint of turpentine. The whole lot will cost you about 1s. 1d. A patent tobacco tin with a lid is a useful thing to keep your paint in, as when not in use the lid will keep it air-tight, and your paint will keep for a long time if not exposed to the air. Cover the lead with oil and if it is in a pound tin the oil should be an inch or more above the lead. Stir up with a palette knife to allow the oil to mix with the white, and add a tablespoonful or so of turps, and in a few hours the white will become the consistency of cream. If you find it too thick add more oil and a little turps and the driers, and proceed to strain through a piece of muslin. If you have another empty tin strain your paint into it by putting the muslin loosely over the empty tin, pouring some colour into the muslin and working it through by brushing it every now and again with a hog hair brush. The paint will gradually pass through the muslin, leaving any sediment or bits behind, and you then pour out a little more colour and work through, and so on until all is strained. You can finally squeeze the muslin with your palette knife against the side of the tin, but be careful not to allow any of the bits to pass through into your strained paint. The proportion of turps to oil should be one of former to three of latter, and of driers a piece the size of a walnut to the pound, but the tradesman of whom you buy your colour will tell you this. The paint for use should be the consistency of cream (not clotted or thickened) and should be put on evenly with a good brush, so you put enough oil and turps to make it this consistency. The brush is a very important item, and this is why amateur painters so often fail; they haven't a decent brush to work with. A good house painter's brush which has been in use some time is the ideal tool, and if you can borrow or hire such a one do. A wide, flat hog, say three inches wide will do, but it will not hold the colour that a house painter's brush will, and the constant filling of it adds to the labour of painting. Your brush should carry its colour so that you only have to use force enough to work the colour out on to your surface. You don't try to load the furniture with colour, but get on so much as easily passes from the brush to the wood. In filling your brush only dip the end into the paint, and then knock it against the side of pot or tin so as to distribute it through the hair and then it will not drop about when you use it. So many amateurs try to get a lot of colour on at once, and so get it on too thickly in places. Remember that you can only get a good surface by applying some three or four coats. Your first coat, as the under colour is dark, will look very dirty and thin, but this first coat is only a grounding one. The second coat, which must be applied when the first is quite dry, say in two days, will look much better, while the fourth coat ought to look nice and white. A painter to get a good surface keeps his paint the way of the grain of the wood. Thus the panel of the door would be vertical in grain, the drawer front horizontal. Take the panel for instance. You will get your colour on using your brush up and down. When it is covered "stroke" the paint evenly from left to right, and then "stroke" it again up and down. This will distribute the colour evenly, and if you do this carefully you will obtain a good surface.
Allow plenty of time between each coat, as to paint over a surface not quite hard will cause your paint to crack. If you find after your first coat that there are any cracks or holes in the old paint take a little of the stiff white lead, and with a little driers added to it use it as putty and stop up any places, levelling it over smoothly with a knife. By the time your last coat is on such defects ought not to show. If you decide not to decorate your furniture, as I have shown in illustration, then instead of using paint for the last coat buy a tin of white, ivory or cream enamel and use to finish. The enamel is not so easy to get on as paint owing to its sticky nature. You must apply it freely, but don't load it on, for the more evenly you apply it the better will it look. One coat will suffice if you have three good coats of paint underneath. When your brushes are not in use put them into a gallipot or other vessel half filled with water.
(To be continued.)
FIG. 2.—Top of chiffonier decorated with stencilling. The two plants used are the dandelion and cyclamen.
FIG. 2.—Top of chiffonier decorated with stencilling. The two plants used are the dandelion and cyclamen.
A NEW PRIZE COMPETITIONA NEW PRIZE COMPETITIONTHE GIRL'S OWN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.BEINGOur Own School of Interesting Information.Let every girl who wishes for the next three months to have something pleasant to think about, and something sensible with which to occupy her leisure, read the following—* * * *We now start a New Competitionof remarkable interest, and likely, we believe, to be of great profit to all who take part in it.The Subject of itis to beA Series of Questions and Answers,the questions being proposed by the Editor ofThe Girl's Own Paperand the answers being furnished by our Readers themselves.The Competition will extendover three months, during which time twelve questions will appear inThe Girl's Own Paperevery other week. This will give one question to be answered for every working day, which should not, we think, prove much of an exertion for anybody.* * * *Prizes and Certificates of Meritwill be awarded to successful competitors.The Prizeswill be worth struggling for. There will be fifteen of them in all. Every girl will have a fair chance, and we have tried to plan so that no one will have to compete against others who in age—and for that reason possibly in information—are greatly superior to herself.The Value and Distribution of the Prizesare here shown—For Girls of theAge of1st Prize2nd Prize3rd Prize£s.d.s.d.s.13-14inclusive110106515-16"110106517-18"110106519-20"110106521-23"1101065The Certificates of Meritwill be given to girls of any age who gain the necessary number of marks. They will be first, second and third class. The total number of marks being reckoned at fifty, all who gain over forty will be first class; between thirty and forty, second class; and between twenty-five and thirty, third class.These certificatesare an important feature. A girl who gains one of them—even though she may fail to win a prize—will have many reasons for feeling pleased. It will be something she can take a pride both in showing and preserving. And when she goes out into the world, it may be useful as a proof that she is painstaking and persevering—essential qualities for all who would succeed in life.* * * *Aim then, girls, first at taking a prize, and, failing that, a Certificate of Merit.But even if you obtainneither, your work will not be lost. Prizes and Certificates are of secondary importance compared with the mental benefit which will fall to the share of every competitor, no matter who she may be or what abilities she may possess.You will in any caseadd to your stock of information; your life will be richer because of the something you have stored away in your "knowledge-box;" you will be brighter because your mind has been active; and you will get some laughing into the bargain, because we must go cheerfully and happily about everything.Are not these reasons enoughwhy girls should enter upon this competition with energy and enthusiasm?* * * *All our readers are cordially invitedto take part. It makes no matter whether they are regular subscribers or only occasional readers—all are welcome.* * * *The querieswill be of the most varied kind, and no one need hold aloof on the ground that the competition will contain nothing of special interest to herself. She may count on its containing something, no matter whether her tastes run on housekeeping, history, biography, literature, music, art, or anything else.* * * *For information on which to base their answerscompetitors may go to any sources they please. All we are particular about is that they put the answers in their own words and in their own way.When it is possiblecompetitors will, at the foot of each answer, give the source from which their information is derived.No; girls are not forbiddento ask their friends. In fact, the Competition may supply subjects for much useful and entertaining talk, and in this way be a real boon in many a friendly circle.* * * *A girl may not be ablesatisfactorily to answer all the questions—we shall be surprised if any one is able to do that. But if a Competitor cannot answer all let her answer as many as she can, remembering that to do a little well is much better than to do a great deal in a slipshod manner.* * * *In judging of the Answerswe shall take note, first of all, of the sense. First, then, girls, see that the sense is all right. Next, we shall observe whether the sense is well expressed. Be sure you look to that too. Lastly, the neatness with which the papers are written will count. It is a matter of some importance, so don't forget that either.* * * *The length of the Answers.The answers are not in length to exceed one hundred and sixty words, but, if they only observe this restriction, competitors may, in the matter of length, please themselves. We do not, however, want too brief replies, say a mere name or date, a yes or a no. Economy of speech is good sometimes, but not always.* * * *For Example, supposing the question to be—"Are waves ever really 'Mountains high?'" It would be truthful enough, by way of answer, to write an emphatic "No," but it would hardly be a satisfying reply or one of much value to anybody.We should all think it much better if the answer ran, say—"ARE WAVES EVER REALLY 'MOUNTAINS HIGH?'""Waves never roll 'mountains high,' except by poetic license. As a matter of fact, it is very rare for waves at sea, even in furious weather, to exceed thirty feet in height."At Wick, in the far north of Scotland, where the sea sometimes displays wonderful energy, waves of about forty feet in height have been seen to strike the breakwater."The highest waves, however, which have been accurately measured, had their dimensions taken by Dr. William Scoresby, the well known Arctic explorer and physicist, who made some valuable observations on the subject in the Atlantic. He found that they reached the height of forty-three feet above the hollow."A foreign writer quotes the observations of others to the effect that waves have been seen from sixty to a hundred and eight feet high, but the evidence may not be trustworthy, at anyrate he does not say how the heights were ascertained."* * * *A number will be prefixedto each question—the numbers will run from 1 onwards—and each answer must be preceded by a corresponding number. After giving the number competitors must also quote the subject of the query.* * * *Every querymust be answered on a separate sheet or sheets of paper—the writing being on one side of the paper only—and the sheets when sent in must be fastened together at the left hand top corner.* * * *About sending in the Answers.During the course of the competition answers are to be sent in three times; the first time the answers from Nos. 1 to 24; the second time those from Nos. 25 to 48; and the last time those from No. 49 to the end.* * * *When a Competitorsends in her second instalment of answers she will kindly place at the head of the first page—"Answers 1 to 24 sent" (giving the date), and on sending the third instalment she will write "Answers 25 to 48 sent" (giving the date).* * * *The Time when papers are to be sent in.Answers to queries are to be forwarded on or before the last day of each month during the currency of the competition. The date however will be found given at the foot of each set of queries so that competitors need have no uncertainty on this point.As a general rule, subscribers to the monthly parts will find they have one clear month for answering each set of 24 queries, and those who take in our weekly numbers will find they have longer.* * * *The full name, age, and addressof the competitor must be put on the back of the last page of each instalment. Should the competitor not wish her name, age, and address to be printed, she should add the name of her favourite flower instead, and this alone would be published in the pass lists.* * * *The papers must be sent by post, addressed toThe Editor, The Girl's Own Paper, 56, Paternoster Row, London, E.C.* * * *At the left hand top cornerof the envelope or wrapper must be clearly written the words "Questions Competition."* * * *No paperscan in any case be returned.Here are the first twelve Questions:—The Girl's Own Questions and Answers.Questions 1-12.1. Did a queen ever voluntarily lay down the sceptre and retire into private life?* * * *2. What stone is said to endow whoever kisses it with wonderful powers of speech?* * * *3. How is it that, though the moon turns round on its axis, we never see its other side?* * * *4. Why is hard water very unsuitable for cooking and washing?* * * *5. What celebrated work was written in a week to defray the cost of the funeral of the author's mother?* * * *6. How did the thistle come to be the emblem of Scotland?* * * *7. What sea has water so thick that you can move in it with difficulty?* * * *8. What are the characteristics of the music of Chopin?* * * *9. Who is the greatest poetess the world has ever seen?* * * *10. How is a rainbow a sign of bad weather in the morning and a sign of good weather in the evening?* * * *11. Has a besieged town ever been saved by a pig?* * * *12. How fast can an expert penman write?The Answers to these Questions, Nos. 1-12, together with the Answers to Questions, Nos. 13-24, which have yet to appear, must be sent in on or before the 30th of December.
A NEW PRIZE COMPETITION
THE GIRL'S OWN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.
BEINGOur Own School of Interesting Information.
Let every girl who wishes for the next three months to have something pleasant to think about, and something sensible with which to occupy her leisure, read the following—
* * * *
We now start a New Competitionof remarkable interest, and likely, we believe, to be of great profit to all who take part in it.
The Subject of itis to be
A Series of Questions and Answers,
the questions being proposed by the Editor ofThe Girl's Own Paperand the answers being furnished by our Readers themselves.
The Competition will extendover three months, during which time twelve questions will appear inThe Girl's Own Paperevery other week. This will give one question to be answered for every working day, which should not, we think, prove much of an exertion for anybody.
* * * *
Prizes and Certificates of Meritwill be awarded to successful competitors.
The Prizeswill be worth struggling for. There will be fifteen of them in all. Every girl will have a fair chance, and we have tried to plan so that no one will have to compete against others who in age—and for that reason possibly in information—are greatly superior to herself.
The Value and Distribution of the Prizesare here shown—
For Girls of theAge of1st Prize2nd Prize3rd Prize£s.d.s.d.s.13-14inclusive110106515-16"110106517-18"110106519-20"110106521-23"1101065
The Certificates of Meritwill be given to girls of any age who gain the necessary number of marks. They will be first, second and third class. The total number of marks being reckoned at fifty, all who gain over forty will be first class; between thirty and forty, second class; and between twenty-five and thirty, third class.
These certificatesare an important feature. A girl who gains one of them—even though she may fail to win a prize—will have many reasons for feeling pleased. It will be something she can take a pride both in showing and preserving. And when she goes out into the world, it may be useful as a proof that she is painstaking and persevering—essential qualities for all who would succeed in life.
* * * *
Aim then, girls, first at taking a prize, and, failing that, a Certificate of Merit.
But even if you obtainneither, your work will not be lost. Prizes and Certificates are of secondary importance compared with the mental benefit which will fall to the share of every competitor, no matter who she may be or what abilities she may possess.
You will in any caseadd to your stock of information; your life will be richer because of the something you have stored away in your "knowledge-box;" you will be brighter because your mind has been active; and you will get some laughing into the bargain, because we must go cheerfully and happily about everything.
Are not these reasons enoughwhy girls should enter upon this competition with energy and enthusiasm?
* * * *
All our readers are cordially invitedto take part. It makes no matter whether they are regular subscribers or only occasional readers—all are welcome.
* * * *
The querieswill be of the most varied kind, and no one need hold aloof on the ground that the competition will contain nothing of special interest to herself. She may count on its containing something, no matter whether her tastes run on housekeeping, history, biography, literature, music, art, or anything else.
* * * *
For information on which to base their answerscompetitors may go to any sources they please. All we are particular about is that they put the answers in their own words and in their own way.
When it is possiblecompetitors will, at the foot of each answer, give the source from which their information is derived.
No; girls are not forbiddento ask their friends. In fact, the Competition may supply subjects for much useful and entertaining talk, and in this way be a real boon in many a friendly circle.
* * * *
A girl may not be ablesatisfactorily to answer all the questions—we shall be surprised if any one is able to do that. But if a Competitor cannot answer all let her answer as many as she can, remembering that to do a little well is much better than to do a great deal in a slipshod manner.
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In judging of the Answerswe shall take note, first of all, of the sense. First, then, girls, see that the sense is all right. Next, we shall observe whether the sense is well expressed. Be sure you look to that too. Lastly, the neatness with which the papers are written will count. It is a matter of some importance, so don't forget that either.
* * * *
The length of the Answers.The answers are not in length to exceed one hundred and sixty words, but, if they only observe this restriction, competitors may, in the matter of length, please themselves. We do not, however, want too brief replies, say a mere name or date, a yes or a no. Economy of speech is good sometimes, but not always.
* * * *
For Example, supposing the question to be—"Are waves ever really 'Mountains high?'" It would be truthful enough, by way of answer, to write an emphatic "No," but it would hardly be a satisfying reply or one of much value to anybody.
We should all think it much better if the answer ran, say—
"ARE WAVES EVER REALLY 'MOUNTAINS HIGH?'"
"Waves never roll 'mountains high,' except by poetic license. As a matter of fact, it is very rare for waves at sea, even in furious weather, to exceed thirty feet in height.
"At Wick, in the far north of Scotland, where the sea sometimes displays wonderful energy, waves of about forty feet in height have been seen to strike the breakwater.
"The highest waves, however, which have been accurately measured, had their dimensions taken by Dr. William Scoresby, the well known Arctic explorer and physicist, who made some valuable observations on the subject in the Atlantic. He found that they reached the height of forty-three feet above the hollow.
"A foreign writer quotes the observations of others to the effect that waves have been seen from sixty to a hundred and eight feet high, but the evidence may not be trustworthy, at anyrate he does not say how the heights were ascertained."
* * * *
A number will be prefixedto each question—the numbers will run from 1 onwards—and each answer must be preceded by a corresponding number. After giving the number competitors must also quote the subject of the query.
* * * *
Every querymust be answered on a separate sheet or sheets of paper—the writing being on one side of the paper only—and the sheets when sent in must be fastened together at the left hand top corner.
* * * *
About sending in the Answers.During the course of the competition answers are to be sent in three times; the first time the answers from Nos. 1 to 24; the second time those from Nos. 25 to 48; and the last time those from No. 49 to the end.
* * * *
When a Competitorsends in her second instalment of answers she will kindly place at the head of the first page—"Answers 1 to 24 sent" (giving the date), and on sending the third instalment she will write "Answers 25 to 48 sent" (giving the date).
* * * *
The Time when papers are to be sent in.Answers to queries are to be forwarded on or before the last day of each month during the currency of the competition. The date however will be found given at the foot of each set of queries so that competitors need have no uncertainty on this point.
As a general rule, subscribers to the monthly parts will find they have one clear month for answering each set of 24 queries, and those who take in our weekly numbers will find they have longer.
* * * *
The full name, age, and addressof the competitor must be put on the back of the last page of each instalment. Should the competitor not wish her name, age, and address to be printed, she should add the name of her favourite flower instead, and this alone would be published in the pass lists.
* * * *
The papers must be sent by post, addressed toThe Editor, The Girl's Own Paper, 56, Paternoster Row, London, E.C.
* * * *
At the left hand top cornerof the envelope or wrapper must be clearly written the words "Questions Competition."
* * * *
No paperscan in any case be returned.
Here are the first twelve Questions:—
The Girl's Own Questions and Answers.
Questions 1-12.
1. Did a queen ever voluntarily lay down the sceptre and retire into private life?
* * * *
2. What stone is said to endow whoever kisses it with wonderful powers of speech?
* * * *
3. How is it that, though the moon turns round on its axis, we never see its other side?
* * * *
4. Why is hard water very unsuitable for cooking and washing?
* * * *
5. What celebrated work was written in a week to defray the cost of the funeral of the author's mother?
* * * *
6. How did the thistle come to be the emblem of Scotland?
* * * *
7. What sea has water so thick that you can move in it with difficulty?
* * * *
8. What are the characteristics of the music of Chopin?
* * * *
9. Who is the greatest poetess the world has ever seen?
* * * *
10. How is a rainbow a sign of bad weather in the morning and a sign of good weather in the evening?
* * * *
11. Has a besieged town ever been saved by a pig?
* * * *
12. How fast can an expert penman write?
The Answers to these Questions, Nos. 1-12, together with the Answers to Questions, Nos. 13-24, which have yet to appear, must be sent in on or before the 30th of December.
VARIETIES.A great Characteristic of the Bible.Writing of the poetry and allusions of the Bible, Dr. Cunningham Geikie points out one of the great characteristics of the sacred volume."It is not," he says, "the production of cloistered ascetics, but breathes in every page a joyous or meditative intercourse with nature or mankind. The fields, the hills, the highway, the valleys, the varying details of country scenes and occupations are interspersed among pictures of life from the crowded haunts of men."The sower and the seed; the birds of the air; the foxes; the hen and its brood; the lilies and the roses; the voice of the turtle; the fragrance of the orchard; the blossom of the almond or the vine; the swift deer; the strong eagle ... the hiring of labourers; the toil of the fisherman; the playing of children; the sound of the mill; the lord and his servants; the courtier in silken robes, and a thousand other notices of life and nature, utilised to teach the highest lessons, give the sacred writings a perennial freshness and universal interest."Delight in Praising."There is delight in singing, though none hearBeside the singer; and there is delightIn praising, though the praiser sit aloneAnd see the praised far off him, far above."Walter S. Landor.A Greek Opinion on Women.The Greek philosopher, Aristippus, was once asked by a friend what sort of a woman he ought to choose for a wife.His answer was, "I cannot recommend any sort, for if she is fair she will deceive you; if plain, you will dislike her. If she is poor she will ruin you; if rich, you will be her slave. If she is clever, she will despise you; if ignorant, she will bore you; and if she is spiteful, she will torment you."Perhaps this opinion of the Greek sage should be taken with a grain of salt, as the great thinkers of Greece entertained such perverse notions of woman's character that the question was actually raised among them whether women had souls!Tall Men."Exceedingly tall men have ever very empty heads," writes Lord Bacon.Thomas Fuller writes more warily. "Often the cockloft is empty in those whom Nature hath built many storeys high," a metaphor seemingly borrowed from Bacon's "Nature did never put her precious jewels into a garret four storeys high."Compare Fuller's moderate "often" with Bacon's sweeping "ever" and "never" which surely smack of some personal ill-will. Can it be that the "wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind" was dealing a side-thrust at Elizabeth's tall favourite, my Lord of Leicester?The Best SauceA prince, overtaken in his walk by a shower, sought refuge in a wayside cottage. The children happened to be sitting at table with a great dish full of oatmeal-porridge placed before them. They were all eating with a right good appetite, and looked, moreover, as fresh and ruddy as roses."How is it possible," asked the prince of the mother, "that they can eat such coarse food with such evident pleasure, and look so healthy and blooming withal?"The mother answered, "It is on account of three kinds of sauces which I put into the food. First, I let the children earn their dinner by work; secondly, I give them nothing to eat out of meal-time that they may bring an appetite with them to table, and thirdly, I bring them up in the habit of contentment, as I keep dainties and sweetmeats out of their way. 'Seek far and wide, no better sauce you'll find than hunger, work and a contented mind.'"A Plain-looking Poetess.—"Mrs. Browning," says a friend who knew her in Florence, "was the tiniest of women. There was something elfish in her bird-like face and masses of black hair. But she had probably in her childhood bidden good-bye to the hope of beauty and had forgotten all about it. Hence, when her soul looked directly through the pinched features into yours, what did you care how plain they were?"
A great Characteristic of the Bible.
Writing of the poetry and allusions of the Bible, Dr. Cunningham Geikie points out one of the great characteristics of the sacred volume.
"It is not," he says, "the production of cloistered ascetics, but breathes in every page a joyous or meditative intercourse with nature or mankind. The fields, the hills, the highway, the valleys, the varying details of country scenes and occupations are interspersed among pictures of life from the crowded haunts of men.
"The sower and the seed; the birds of the air; the foxes; the hen and its brood; the lilies and the roses; the voice of the turtle; the fragrance of the orchard; the blossom of the almond or the vine; the swift deer; the strong eagle ... the hiring of labourers; the toil of the fisherman; the playing of children; the sound of the mill; the lord and his servants; the courtier in silken robes, and a thousand other notices of life and nature, utilised to teach the highest lessons, give the sacred writings a perennial freshness and universal interest."
Delight in Praising.
"There is delight in singing, though none hearBeside the singer; and there is delightIn praising, though the praiser sit aloneAnd see the praised far off him, far above."
"There is delight in singing, though none hearBeside the singer; and there is delightIn praising, though the praiser sit aloneAnd see the praised far off him, far above."
Walter S. Landor.
A Greek Opinion on Women.
The Greek philosopher, Aristippus, was once asked by a friend what sort of a woman he ought to choose for a wife.
His answer was, "I cannot recommend any sort, for if she is fair she will deceive you; if plain, you will dislike her. If she is poor she will ruin you; if rich, you will be her slave. If she is clever, she will despise you; if ignorant, she will bore you; and if she is spiteful, she will torment you."
Perhaps this opinion of the Greek sage should be taken with a grain of salt, as the great thinkers of Greece entertained such perverse notions of woman's character that the question was actually raised among them whether women had souls!
Tall Men.
"Exceedingly tall men have ever very empty heads," writes Lord Bacon.
Thomas Fuller writes more warily. "Often the cockloft is empty in those whom Nature hath built many storeys high," a metaphor seemingly borrowed from Bacon's "Nature did never put her precious jewels into a garret four storeys high."
Compare Fuller's moderate "often" with Bacon's sweeping "ever" and "never" which surely smack of some personal ill-will. Can it be that the "wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind" was dealing a side-thrust at Elizabeth's tall favourite, my Lord of Leicester?
The Best Sauce
A prince, overtaken in his walk by a shower, sought refuge in a wayside cottage. The children happened to be sitting at table with a great dish full of oatmeal-porridge placed before them. They were all eating with a right good appetite, and looked, moreover, as fresh and ruddy as roses.
"How is it possible," asked the prince of the mother, "that they can eat such coarse food with such evident pleasure, and look so healthy and blooming withal?"
The mother answered, "It is on account of three kinds of sauces which I put into the food. First, I let the children earn their dinner by work; secondly, I give them nothing to eat out of meal-time that they may bring an appetite with them to table, and thirdly, I bring them up in the habit of contentment, as I keep dainties and sweetmeats out of their way. 'Seek far and wide, no better sauce you'll find than hunger, work and a contented mind.'"
A Plain-looking Poetess.—"Mrs. Browning," says a friend who knew her in Florence, "was the tiniest of women. There was something elfish in her bird-like face and masses of black hair. But she had probably in her childhood bidden good-bye to the hope of beauty and had forgotten all about it. Hence, when her soul looked directly through the pinched features into yours, what did you care how plain they were?"