FROCKS FOR TO-MORROW.By"THE LADY DRESSMAKER."Ifthe French craze for plaids and tartans be followed in England, it will be as well to remind everyone that there are certain people to whom they are quite forbidden. I refer to the very stout and the very thin. And it is to be hoped that these two classes may be wise in season and avoid them. For the rest, the new plaids are, some of them, pretty and in quiet hues, though I noticed, when in Paris, that people liked them more vivid as to colouring, and one consequently saw some very lively-looking ones in scarlet and bright red. These plaids are more used as skirts than as entire dresses; in fact, the newest departure in coats and skirts is to have the skirt of plaid and the coat of a plain cloth which suits it in colour. For this purpose a sacque coat is always used, and this is a fortunate thing, for they suit all figures, thin and stout, equally well; but they, more than any other description of jacket, require a good cut, as they are so easily made to hitch up or to droop at the back by an inexperienced cutter. And the oddest part of it is that no alteration seems to do any good, for the trouble appears to lie deeper than that, in the very foundation of the jacket.JACKET WITH ROUNDED FRONTS.GOWN WITH TUNIC.The few notes that I have collected together on the subject of furs I will use at the beginning of my article. Fur trimmings of allkinds are very much worn, and so many of the winter gowns are decorated with fur bands, that the fashion seems like a uniform. The peculiarity of this form of trimming is that this season it must be accompanied by bands of brightly-coloured velvet and generally with braid. Seal and sable are constant favourites, and they will be used in combination for the fitted-back jackets or sacque-backed ones, which are the two shapes for fur jackets at present. Skunk and bear, which were last year so popular, have fallen out of favour; but caracul is much used, and has not been freshly named this year. So far as I can see, white satin seems to be the popular lining for all fur jackets and capes, though I have seen one or two lined with gold colour and pale blue. The capes of fur follow the fashion of those in cloth and are flounced just as they were last year, many of them; but this year the flounces are wider and more visible to the eye. The collars of all fur garments are very high. And, lastly, I must mention that long fur boas are expected to take the place of the feather ones to which we have been so faithful.As I look round trying to satisfy myself as to the fashionable colours for the autumn, I find myself in a decided difficulty. There is a new shade of lavender or hyacinth-blue, which is very pretty, but needs to be toned down with white or black, and I am sure others will have noticed that there is a perfect run on lavender-blue hats, which are prepared for the winter in every shade of this hue. Then there is a deep-hued tomato-red, which is very handsome in velvet, and a new blue known as "old Japanese." Dark brown cloth, with reliefs of orange velvet and satin; grey face cloth, with reliefs of turquoise blue; and red with black cordings, are all fashionable winter mixtures. Pink, ranging from a pale coral to a very deep du Barry rose hue, is quite as much worn as ever, and from what I see, orange-colour is the same.Both for day and night the hair is now dressed quite low on the nape of the neck, in a coil of twists, and on the head and over the ears it is waved in wide undulations, the front hair being cut short and curled over the forehead. For the evening a rose fastened in by a diamond pin behind the left ear is said to be the latest idea.The reason of this change in the style of dressing the hair appears to lie in the change in the style of the hats and bonnets of the season. There is no doubt that, to the majority of Englishwomen, the hair dressed in this manner is more becoming than in any other style.In the way of new skirts we find several in which there are neither pleats nor gathers at the back; but the most popular have two box-pleats, on which there are placed (in some skirts at least) a row or two of rather large buttons, from the waist to the hem. Dresses are, I am sorry to say, being made very much longer in the skirt. They touch the ground at the front and sides, and lie on it completely at the back, while for evening use the long train is universally adopted. I think the Princess-gown will be the favourite one for evening use, and here sleeves seem to be banished entirely, a velvet ribbon or a flower being considered a sufficient substitute for them. For walking-skirts in thick materials, however, the sensible ones are to be left a choice, so we shall probably see as many short skirts worn as long ones. After all, the bicycle-skirt has to be considered, and many of us wear that in the country nearly all day long.Our first illustration shows two of the reigning winter and autumn styles, namely, the three-quarter jacket, and the strapped cape, with bands of cloth piped with scarlet silk. The figure on the left wears a tailor-made and beautifully-fitting jacket of grey cloth, which is braided with a darker grey braid over bands of paler grey cloth, the lines running longitudinally from the top of the collar to the edge of the jacket. The skirt is of plain cloth of the same tone of grey as the jacket. The latter is lined with orange silk. The toque is of orange velvet, with cream-coloured lace, and feathers and wings of orange and black.GOWN OF GREY CLOTH.CAPE WITH CLOTH BANDS.The second figure in the illustration wears a black cloth cape, lined with scarlet silk, and piped with the same at each side of the wide cloth bands, which make the decoration of the cape. These bands are tapered gradually round the fronts and up the sides, where they are crossed with ornamental straps which fasten the cape in front. The collar is high, and is piped and lined with scarlet. The hat is of straw, with scarlet and black velvet, and black feathers at one side, and scarlet and black rosettes below the brim at the back and sides.The next illustration consists of a single figure only, who wears one of the new jackets of the winter, the material of which is dark green cloth, braided in black, and edged with caracul fur. The new feature in this jacket is the flounce of cloth of about eight inches in depth, which is placed round the edge, and which is also trimmed with fur. The hat is of white felt, with trimmings of green velvet, and green feathers; and the dress worn is of green cashmere, with green velvet trimmings.The group of three figures fully displays one of the most stylish of the season's confections,two views being given of it, a front and a back one, on the figures which stand on the right and left. This jacket is of cloth, tight-fitting, and of three-quarter length, with the fronts rounded to the bands at the waist. It is trimmed with bands of fur, and with cloth bands of a lighter colour, which taper towards the waist in front, and on the bodice are arranged so as to simulate an Eton jacket. The seated figure shows one of the new tunics. The material is of dark blue cloth, and the tunic is cut to reach a little below the knee. The bodice is open in front to show a vest of apricot-coloured velvet which has white lacemotifson it. The tunic and thereversof the bodice are edged with bands of astrachan, which is laid on apricot velvet, edged and overlaid with fancy braiding in black. There is a large collar high at the back, which is bordered in the same manner, and lined with black velvet. The edge of the skirt is trimmed with bands of astrachan, which are put on to match the battlements of the tunic.NEW WINTER JACKET.The very smart coats of the autumn are all made of a thick satinmerveilleux, which was used for the same purpose some years ago, and seems to have returned to favour. Other coats are of black velvet, on one of which a great deal of Irish crochet lace has been lavished as decoration; but all of them are of the same three-quarter length, and aspire to great perfection of cut and fit. One sees by these coats how desirable it is to be slight in figure, for most of these fashions are only suitable for the thin. Pipings are the predominant ornament; and, indeed, this form of decoration is more popular than anything else.Mittens are coming into use, and, for the evening, will perhaps supersede gloves; the late tropical heat has rendered the most careful people quite careless of their gloves, and it has been nothing remarkable to meet well-dressed women in the street carrying their gloves in their hands. The ribbon bands round the neck, which have been so much used this year, are now being replaced by velvet ones, tied in the same manner—in a bow at the back. It is rumoured that wide strings of ribbon for bonnets are coming in again, but I do not think it likely, as they add much to the look of age on the face.Hats turned up in front were an introduction of the later summer season; but they have taken immensely, and will be worn during the winter, and it is well to remember, nevertheless, that they require a plump face, for thin cheeks stand no chance at all, in their very uncompromising lack of shadow.
By"THE LADY DRESSMAKER."
Ifthe French craze for plaids and tartans be followed in England, it will be as well to remind everyone that there are certain people to whom they are quite forbidden. I refer to the very stout and the very thin. And it is to be hoped that these two classes may be wise in season and avoid them. For the rest, the new plaids are, some of them, pretty and in quiet hues, though I noticed, when in Paris, that people liked them more vivid as to colouring, and one consequently saw some very lively-looking ones in scarlet and bright red. These plaids are more used as skirts than as entire dresses; in fact, the newest departure in coats and skirts is to have the skirt of plaid and the coat of a plain cloth which suits it in colour. For this purpose a sacque coat is always used, and this is a fortunate thing, for they suit all figures, thin and stout, equally well; but they, more than any other description of jacket, require a good cut, as they are so easily made to hitch up or to droop at the back by an inexperienced cutter. And the oddest part of it is that no alteration seems to do any good, for the trouble appears to lie deeper than that, in the very foundation of the jacket.
JACKET WITH ROUNDED FRONTS.GOWN WITH TUNIC.
JACKET WITH ROUNDED FRONTS.GOWN WITH TUNIC.
The few notes that I have collected together on the subject of furs I will use at the beginning of my article. Fur trimmings of allkinds are very much worn, and so many of the winter gowns are decorated with fur bands, that the fashion seems like a uniform. The peculiarity of this form of trimming is that this season it must be accompanied by bands of brightly-coloured velvet and generally with braid. Seal and sable are constant favourites, and they will be used in combination for the fitted-back jackets or sacque-backed ones, which are the two shapes for fur jackets at present. Skunk and bear, which were last year so popular, have fallen out of favour; but caracul is much used, and has not been freshly named this year. So far as I can see, white satin seems to be the popular lining for all fur jackets and capes, though I have seen one or two lined with gold colour and pale blue. The capes of fur follow the fashion of those in cloth and are flounced just as they were last year, many of them; but this year the flounces are wider and more visible to the eye. The collars of all fur garments are very high. And, lastly, I must mention that long fur boas are expected to take the place of the feather ones to which we have been so faithful.
As I look round trying to satisfy myself as to the fashionable colours for the autumn, I find myself in a decided difficulty. There is a new shade of lavender or hyacinth-blue, which is very pretty, but needs to be toned down with white or black, and I am sure others will have noticed that there is a perfect run on lavender-blue hats, which are prepared for the winter in every shade of this hue. Then there is a deep-hued tomato-red, which is very handsome in velvet, and a new blue known as "old Japanese." Dark brown cloth, with reliefs of orange velvet and satin; grey face cloth, with reliefs of turquoise blue; and red with black cordings, are all fashionable winter mixtures. Pink, ranging from a pale coral to a very deep du Barry rose hue, is quite as much worn as ever, and from what I see, orange-colour is the same.
Both for day and night the hair is now dressed quite low on the nape of the neck, in a coil of twists, and on the head and over the ears it is waved in wide undulations, the front hair being cut short and curled over the forehead. For the evening a rose fastened in by a diamond pin behind the left ear is said to be the latest idea.
The reason of this change in the style of dressing the hair appears to lie in the change in the style of the hats and bonnets of the season. There is no doubt that, to the majority of Englishwomen, the hair dressed in this manner is more becoming than in any other style.
In the way of new skirts we find several in which there are neither pleats nor gathers at the back; but the most popular have two box-pleats, on which there are placed (in some skirts at least) a row or two of rather large buttons, from the waist to the hem. Dresses are, I am sorry to say, being made very much longer in the skirt. They touch the ground at the front and sides, and lie on it completely at the back, while for evening use the long train is universally adopted. I think the Princess-gown will be the favourite one for evening use, and here sleeves seem to be banished entirely, a velvet ribbon or a flower being considered a sufficient substitute for them. For walking-skirts in thick materials, however, the sensible ones are to be left a choice, so we shall probably see as many short skirts worn as long ones. After all, the bicycle-skirt has to be considered, and many of us wear that in the country nearly all day long.
Our first illustration shows two of the reigning winter and autumn styles, namely, the three-quarter jacket, and the strapped cape, with bands of cloth piped with scarlet silk. The figure on the left wears a tailor-made and beautifully-fitting jacket of grey cloth, which is braided with a darker grey braid over bands of paler grey cloth, the lines running longitudinally from the top of the collar to the edge of the jacket. The skirt is of plain cloth of the same tone of grey as the jacket. The latter is lined with orange silk. The toque is of orange velvet, with cream-coloured lace, and feathers and wings of orange and black.
GOWN OF GREY CLOTH.CAPE WITH CLOTH BANDS.
GOWN OF GREY CLOTH.CAPE WITH CLOTH BANDS.
The second figure in the illustration wears a black cloth cape, lined with scarlet silk, and piped with the same at each side of the wide cloth bands, which make the decoration of the cape. These bands are tapered gradually round the fronts and up the sides, where they are crossed with ornamental straps which fasten the cape in front. The collar is high, and is piped and lined with scarlet. The hat is of straw, with scarlet and black velvet, and black feathers at one side, and scarlet and black rosettes below the brim at the back and sides.
The next illustration consists of a single figure only, who wears one of the new jackets of the winter, the material of which is dark green cloth, braided in black, and edged with caracul fur. The new feature in this jacket is the flounce of cloth of about eight inches in depth, which is placed round the edge, and which is also trimmed with fur. The hat is of white felt, with trimmings of green velvet, and green feathers; and the dress worn is of green cashmere, with green velvet trimmings.
The group of three figures fully displays one of the most stylish of the season's confections,two views being given of it, a front and a back one, on the figures which stand on the right and left. This jacket is of cloth, tight-fitting, and of three-quarter length, with the fronts rounded to the bands at the waist. It is trimmed with bands of fur, and with cloth bands of a lighter colour, which taper towards the waist in front, and on the bodice are arranged so as to simulate an Eton jacket. The seated figure shows one of the new tunics. The material is of dark blue cloth, and the tunic is cut to reach a little below the knee. The bodice is open in front to show a vest of apricot-coloured velvet which has white lacemotifson it. The tunic and thereversof the bodice are edged with bands of astrachan, which is laid on apricot velvet, edged and overlaid with fancy braiding in black. There is a large collar high at the back, which is bordered in the same manner, and lined with black velvet. The edge of the skirt is trimmed with bands of astrachan, which are put on to match the battlements of the tunic.
NEW WINTER JACKET.
NEW WINTER JACKET.
The very smart coats of the autumn are all made of a thick satinmerveilleux, which was used for the same purpose some years ago, and seems to have returned to favour. Other coats are of black velvet, on one of which a great deal of Irish crochet lace has been lavished as decoration; but all of them are of the same three-quarter length, and aspire to great perfection of cut and fit. One sees by these coats how desirable it is to be slight in figure, for most of these fashions are only suitable for the thin. Pipings are the predominant ornament; and, indeed, this form of decoration is more popular than anything else.
Mittens are coming into use, and, for the evening, will perhaps supersede gloves; the late tropical heat has rendered the most careful people quite careless of their gloves, and it has been nothing remarkable to meet well-dressed women in the street carrying their gloves in their hands. The ribbon bands round the neck, which have been so much used this year, are now being replaced by velvet ones, tied in the same manner—in a bow at the back. It is rumoured that wide strings of ribbon for bonnets are coming in again, but I do not think it likely, as they add much to the look of age on the face.
Hats turned up in front were an introduction of the later summer season; but they have taken immensely, and will be worn during the winter, and it is well to remember, nevertheless, that they require a plump face, for thin cheeks stand no chance at all, in their very uncompromising lack of shadow.
The following is sent by an anonymous reader in response to the address on our Prospectus.—Ed.TO OUR EDITOR.From his "Garden of Girls."Dear friend, you will find in your "garden of girls"That not "rosebuds" alone may be seen,There the blue-bell of Scotland her petals unfurls,And the shamrock her trefoil of green.And when through your garden in spirit you roam,While the sun in the West slowly pales,Soft music will steal on your ear from the homeOf the murmuring wind-harp of Wales.And the song of the harp is the voice of the flowersIn grateful devotion expressed,For a thousand weeks spent to provide them with hoursWith mirth, joy and happiness blest.
The following is sent by an anonymous reader in response to the address on our Prospectus.—Ed.
From his "Garden of Girls."
Dear friend, you will find in your "garden of girls"That not "rosebuds" alone may be seen,There the blue-bell of Scotland her petals unfurls,And the shamrock her trefoil of green.And when through your garden in spirit you roam,While the sun in the West slowly pales,Soft music will steal on your ear from the homeOf the murmuring wind-harp of Wales.And the song of the harp is the voice of the flowersIn grateful devotion expressed,For a thousand weeks spent to provide them with hoursWith mirth, joy and happiness blest.
Dear friend, you will find in your "garden of girls"That not "rosebuds" alone may be seen,There the blue-bell of Scotland her petals unfurls,And the shamrock her trefoil of green.
And when through your garden in spirit you roam,While the sun in the West slowly pales,Soft music will steal on your ear from the homeOf the murmuring wind-harp of Wales.
And the song of the harp is the voice of the flowersIn grateful devotion expressed,For a thousand weeks spent to provide them with hoursWith mirth, joy and happiness blest.
THE RULES OF SOCIETY.By LADY WILLIAM LENNOX.PART I.Thefollowing 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 ofThe Girl's Own Paperwho 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 beforeattempting 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 manyentréescan 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 hardvol-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.," notvice 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 ofBradshaw's Guidethrough 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.)
By LADY WILLIAM LENNOX.
Thefollowing 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 ofThe Girl's Own Paperwho 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 beforeattempting 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 manyentréescan 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 hardvol-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.," notvice 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 ofBradshaw's Guidethrough 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.)
FROM LONDON TO DAMASCUS.WATER SELLERS, PORT SAID.I supposemost 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 thePrinz 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 passportsvisédat 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 shipPrinz 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, demandedbacksheesh, 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.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 ofthe 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, orbayaras, 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.
WATER SELLERS, PORT SAID.
WATER SELLERS, PORT SAID.
I supposemost 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 thePrinz 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 passportsvisédat 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 shipPrinz 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, demandedbacksheesh, 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.
LANDING AT JAFFA.
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 ofthe 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."
"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, orbayaras, 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.
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 topage 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 toThe Editor, The Girl's Own PaperOffice, 56, Paternoster Row, London, E.C., and at the left-hand top corner of the envelope or wrapper write the words "Questions 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 topage 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 toThe Editor, The Girl's Own PaperOffice, 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.⁂Prizesto 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 Prizeof 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.
⁂Prizesto 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 Prizeof 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 youry'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 fareUnsweetened 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'sNight 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. Dixoninforms Black Luffy that "An Advent Serenade" is in Harper'sYoung Peoplefor 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 toAdelaidefromHelen A. Manning,Labore Omnia Florent, andFrances M. Venables. All enclose the poem by Mrs. Norton, asked for, andMiss Venablessuggests that the first line is:"Word was brought to the Irish king."Winifred A. Griffithsthanks 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 ifMademoiselle Marie Guisewould send her correct address, as the letterMiss Barrwrote was returned.Miss D'Rozario, c/o The Postmaster, Bangalore, India, wishesFriend Studioto have this address, and to know thatMiss D'Rozariowill be very glad to write to her.TheCountess 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.
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 youry'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 fareUnsweetened 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'sNight 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.
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 youry'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 fareUnsweetened by a jest?"
"Why bow before Life's tyrant, Care,And meekly take his sorry fareUnsweetened 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";
"How sweetly thou speakest to me";
but you will perceive that
"Brings a sense of happy relief"
"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"—
"Guard well thy thoughts, for thoughts are heard in heaven"—
in Young'sNight 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"—
"Does the road wind up-hill all the way?Yes, to the very end"—
though of course the subject is entirely different.
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. Dixoninforms Black Luffy that "An Advent Serenade" is in Harper'sYoung Peoplefor 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 toAdelaidefromHelen A. Manning,Labore Omnia Florent, andFrances M. Venables. All enclose the poem by Mrs. Norton, asked for, andMiss Venablessuggests that the first line is:"Word was brought to the Irish king."Winifred A. Griffithsthanks the correspondents who so kindly came to her aid about "The Voiceless Chimes."
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. Dixoninforms Black Luffy that "An Advent Serenade" is in Harper'sYoung Peoplefor 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 toAdelaidefromHelen A. Manning,Labore Omnia Florent, andFrances M. Venables. All enclose the poem by Mrs. Norton, asked for, andMiss Venablessuggests that the first line is:
"Word was brought to the Irish king."
"Word was brought to the Irish king."
Winifred A. Griffithsthanks the correspondents who so kindly came to her aid about "The Voiceless Chimes."
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 ifMademoiselle Marie Guisewould send her correct address, as the letterMiss Barrwrote was returned.Miss D'Rozario, c/o The Postmaster, Bangalore, India, wishesFriend Studioto have this address, and to know thatMiss D'Rozariowill be very glad to write to her.TheCountess 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.
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 ifMademoiselle Marie Guisewould send her correct address, as the letterMiss Barrwrote was returned.
Miss D'Rozario, c/o The Postmaster, Bangalore, India, wishesFriend Studioto have this address, and to know thatMiss D'Rozariowill be very glad to write to her.
TheCountess 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.