An English writer, in a recent work published on etiquette, speaks of waltzing thus:—
"It is perhaps useless to recommend flat-foot waltzing in this country, where ladies allow themselves to be almost hugged by their partners, and where men think it necessary to lift a lady almost off the ground, but I am persuaded that if it were introduced, the outcry against the impropriety of waltzing would soon cease. Nothing can be more delicate than the way in which a German holds his partner. It is impossible to dance on the flat foot unless the lady and gentleman are quite free of one another. His hand, therefore, goes no further round her waist than to the hooks and eyes of her dress, hers, no higher than to his elbow. Thus danced, the waltz is smooth, graceful, and delicate, and we could never in Germany complain of our daughter's languishing on a young man's shoulder. On the other hand, nothing is more graceless and absurd, than to see a man waltzing on the tips of his toes, lifting his partner off the ground, or twirling round and round with her like the figures on a street organ. The test of waltzing in time, is to be able to stamp the time with the left foot. The waltz is of German origin, but where it is still danced in Germany in the original manner, (as, for instance, among the peasants of the Tyrol,) it is a very different dance. It is there very slow and graceful; the feet are thrown out in a single long step, which Turveydrop, I presume, would call ajeté. After a few turns, the partners waltz alone in the same step, the man keeping the timeby striking together his iron-shod heels, until with a shout and clapping of hands he again clasps his partner and continues in the same slow measure with her."
The position for the polka, redowa, and other round dances, should be the same as that for the waltz, and for the steps, they can only be acquired from a dancing teacher, and are impossible to describe properly.
One of the most delightful accomplishments which a lady can possess, and one which is unfortunately but little cultivated, is the art of reading aloud well; reading with expression, taste, animation, and correctness; and this art once acquired, let her also be able to recite well.
Long lectures may be given upon elocution, but the advice can be condensed into two directions. First, be sure you pronounce, accent, and enunciate every word correctly; then, throw your whole soul into the words. Study your author carefully, that you may know precisely what he means by each expression, and then try to bury your personal identity, to become, for the time, the character you represent.
One of the most delightful ways to spend a social evening, is to devote it to dramatic literature. Invite only guests who read well, or who are really interested listeners, and select a play, or scenes from several plays, and cast the parts among your guests. All jealousy must be put aside, and to-night's Hamlet must condescend to direct Richard to
"Stand by, my lord, and let the coffin pass,"
to-morrow.
After a few meetings, the peculiar talent of each reader will be recognized, and you can select your tragedy hero,comedy hero, queen, chambermaid, and other members of the force, with a view to the display of each one's best powers. Vary the entertainment by reciting monologues and dialogues. A whole play will often be found tiresome; it is best to select several scenes, keeping up the thread of the plot, and introducing the best characters, and leave out what is mere interlude, and dispense with some of the subordinate characters.
Leave one end of the room entirely vacant for the readers. You will find it more interesting to have the readers stand, and use some little motion; the words will flow more easily, the expressions come more forcibly if the appropriate gesture is made. Love scenes will, of course, require delicate handling, and embracing can be easily omitted; neither would I recommend the action of a dueling scene, or a murder, but merely to add gesture enough to give interest to both readers and audience.
You will find some little difficulty from bashfulness, and the "don't like to" people at first, but soon you will discover with delight how many of your friends possess the talent for reading well, and never knew it themselves.
You will do well to take a few lessons in elocution, but you need not fear to read if you have never made the accomplishment a study. With a correct knowledge of your own language, and a love for fine writing, you will soon read well.
Give to every part you undertake, the full effect intended by the writer. Do not throw all your energy, your whole soul, into a leading part at one time, andslight a subordinate character at another. If you have but five words to read, read them as they would be spoken were you the character you represent for the time. To hear a splendidly written, tragic burst of passion read in a weak, whining voice, is no worse than to have a few simple words from a servant's lips delivered with the gesture and emphasis suited to a Medea or Lady Macbeth.
I shall be condemned by many serious and well-judging persons, if I say one word in favor of private theatricals; yet, as it appears to me, there are in these diversions some advantages which are not to be found to excuse the waltz, or the polka, or the ballet, or the hunting field. In private theatricals there is the possibility ofsomebenefit. The study of the finest dramatists, especially of Shakespeare, is not likely to demoralize the mind, or to cool the enthusiasm for what is good. We can scarcely know too well those works which have tended more to form character than any collection of any kind whatsoever.
Shakespeare, Sheridan, Bulwer,—but I cannot go through the list of fine dramatic writers whose works elevate the mind and taste. The plays of Sheridan, Knowles, and Bulwer, are, in most instances, well adapted for private representations—the most exquisite delineations of female character may be found in the dramatic library, and high, pure, manly thoughts, may be traced, line after line, to the same source.
Private theatricals should, however, be regulated with much judgment. I see no reason to restrict too severely talent of this kind where it exists, any more thanto crush a dawning taste for the other fine arts. What we have to do is to raise and direct it; never to let it occupy too much time, nor to become the business of life; never to let it infringe upon duties; never to allow it to lead us into an unreasonable, and, therefore, criminal expense. Our ancestors were content to strew their stage at the end of their halls with rushes, and to hang up the name of the scene, instead of a scene, before each act. The best preparations, which generally render private theatricals both laborious and expensive, add but little to the pleasure of the beholders, whose attention is fixed upon the actors, and who can always see far finer scenes at a minor theatre than at any private theatricals. Were we content with greater simplicity in our amusements, how much vain ostentation, heart-sickening expense, self-recrimination, and trouble, might be avoided!
As a valid objection to private theatricals, it has been urged that they are apt to encourage a taste for the green-room of the public theatre in young men and boys; in women the risk is less, for few women are ever known to go on the stage except from necessity. I own this objection to theatricals is the greatest that can be urged. It can only be answered in mitigation that, where there exists a taste of the kind, it is better that it should be indulged at home, instead of at the theatre, with the modest inmates of a well-governed house, instead of with professional actors. Like all other amusements, the abuse is probable, but the power of restraint rests within ourselves.
Under the same head as private theatricals may come dramatized charades and proverbs, so much in fashionat the present time. These last have some great advantages over the standard plays; they are better suited to a parlor; they do not provoke comparison between the young actors, and the favorite public idols; they require but little scenery and arrangement; they are short; and they do not require so many subordinate characters.
Impromptu charades and proverbs are delightful, and are the occasion for much merriment; the mistakes, the absurd contrasts between character and costume, the scenery—a deep, hanging wood, the court of Louis Quatorze or the deck of a man of war, being improvised at a moment's notice, only add to the merry enjoyment.
One rule you must observe if you join in these amusements: never to carry your gayety into romping. Merry and laughing you may be, yet never forget you are a lady. You may personate a newly-caught Irish chambermaid, use the broadest brogue, wear the commonest dress, throw yourself heartily and thoroughly into the part, losing your personal identity almost entirely, and yet you may retain that nameless charm, which will place you in the mind of each of the audience as a lady of refinement.
You must also be perfectly good-natured and self-sacrificing; ready to play the smallest parts with the same interest you would throw into the principal ones. Try to throw out all the good points in the parts taken by the other members of the company. If you play an insignificant part, play it well, with all the grace you can, make the most of it, but do not try to raise it to the first place. Yield gracefully the prominent position to those who claim it in the plot of the play, and never try byconspicuous dress or by play, to go beyond the position set down for you.
Another delightful accomplishment, and one which will aid you if you are studying drawing and painting, is that of arrangingtableaux vivants.
Mrs. Severn gives the following hints upon this subject:
"Perhaps there is no intellectual amusement in fashionable life, the nature of which is so little understood, as thetableau vivant; it being generally considered as only a vehicle for display, whereas its real purpose is to arrange scientifically a combination of natural objects, so as to make a good picture according to the rules of art.
"Atableau vivantis literally what its name imports—a living picture composed of living persons; and, when skilfully arranged and seen at a proper distance, it produces all the effect of a real picture. It is said, that the first living picture was contrived by a profligate young German nobleman, who having, during the absence of his father, sold one of the celebrated pictures belonging to the old castle, which was an heir-loom, to conceal the deficiency, placed some of his companions behind the frame, so as to imitate the missing picture, and to deceive his father, who passed through the room without being conscious of his loss.
"Atableau vivantmay be formed in two ways: it may consist of a group of persons, who take some well-known subject in history or fiction to illustrate, and who form a group to tell the story according to their own taste; or, it may be a copy, as exact as circumstanceswill permit, of some celebrated picture. The first plan, it may be easily imagined, is very rarely effective; since, as we find that even the best masters are often months, or even years, before they can arrange a group satisfactorily on canvas, it is not probable that persons who are not artists should succeed in making good impromptu pictures. Indeed, it has been observed, that artists themselves, when they have to arrange atableau vivant, always prefer copying a picture to composing one.
"Copying a real picture, by placing living persons in the positions of the figures indicated in the picture, appears, at first sight, an easy task enough; and the effect ought to be easily attained, as there can be no bad drawing, and no confused light and shade, to destroy the effect of the grouping. There are, however, many difficulties to conquer, which it requires some knowledge of art to be aware of. Painting being on a flat surface, every means are taken to give roundness and relief to the figures, which qualities of course are found naturally in atableau vivant. In a picture the light is made effective by a dark shadow placed near it; diminished lights or demi-tints are introduced to prevent the principal light appearing a spot; and these are linked together by artful shades, which show the outline in some places, and hide it in others. The colors must also be carefully arranged, so as to blend or harmonize with each other. A want of attention to these minute points will be sufficient to destroy the effect of the finest picture, even to those who are so unacquainted with art as to be incapable of explaining why they are dissatisfied, except by an involuntary liking or disliking of what they see.
"The best place for putting up atableau vivantis in a door-way, with an equal space on each side; or, at least, some space on both sides is necessary; and if there is a room or a passage between the door selected for the picture and the room the company is to see it from, so much the better, as there should be a distance of at least four yards between the first row of the spectators and the picture. It must be remembered that, while the tableau is being shown, nearly all the lights must be put out in the room where the company is assembled; and, perhaps, only one single candle, properly placed, in the intervening space between the company and the tableau, must be left slightly to illuminate the frame. In the above-mentioned door-way a frame, somewhat smaller than the original picture, must be suspended, three, four, or even five feet from the floor, as may suit the height of the door; or, if the door is not very high, the frame may be put one or two feet behind, to gain space; but care must be taken to fill up the opening that would, in that case, show between the door-way and the frame; also a piece of dark cloth ought to be put from the bottom of the frame to the ground, to give the appearance of the picture hanging on the wall. The most important thing is, that the chairs or tables ought to be placed behind the frame, so that the persons who are to represent the tableau may sit or stand as nearly in the position, with regard to the frame, as the figures appear to do in the real picture they are trying to imitate, and at about two feet from the frame, so that the light which is attached to the back of the frame may fall properly on the figures. In order to accomplish this, great study and contrivanceare required, so that the shades may fall in precisely the same places as in the original picture; and sometimes the light is put on one side, sometimes on the other, and often on the top; and sometimes shades of tin or paper are put between the lights and the tableaux, to assist in throwing a shadow over any particular part. The background is one of the most important parts, and should be made to resemble that of the picture as nearly as possible; if it is dark, coarse cloth absorbs the light best; but whether it is to be black, blue, or brown, must depend on the tint of the picture; should the background be a light one, colored calico, turned on the wrong side, is generally used. If trees or flowers form the background, of course real branches or plants must be introduced to imitate those in the picture. Even rocks have been imitated; and spun glass has often successfully represented water. A thin, black gauze, black muslin, or tarlatan veil, should be fastened to the top of the frame, on theoutsideof it, through which the tableau is to be seen.
"Care ought to be taken to conceal the peculiarities of the different materials used in the draperies, and it is even sometimes necessary to cover the stuffs used for the purpose with a gauze of a different color, so as to imitate the broken and transparent colors found in most good pictures. This, carefully attended to, will give a quietness and simplicity to the whole, which will greatly add to the illusion."
The next subject upon the list of accomplishments, should be filled by some words upon fancy sewing. Under this head will come—Crochet, Knitting, Tapestry work, Embroidery, Chenille work, Netting, Canvaswork, Berlin wool work, Frame work, Braiding, Bead work, etc.
Small social gatherings will be much more entertaining, the time will pass much more quickly, and the conversation flows more freely if the fingers are employed with some light work.
Pretty presents—nay, beautiful ones—may be made in this way, when the fingers would otherwise be idle, and these will have an additional value in being the work of your own hands.
From the most remote ages needlework has been, not only a source of pecuniary advantage for poor women, but also of pleasant pastime for the rich. It is one of the most elegant of the imitative art, and from time immemorial it has been an amusement for otherwise idle fingers, from the cottage to the palace.
I have not space for a long disquisition upon the uses and pleasures of fancy work; every woman has moments when such pretty playwork will be a valuable recreation. The taste for fancy work increases daily, and can be made not only ornamental, but useful. A ladies' wardrobe consists of so many, and such varied objects, that the evenings of an entire winter may be spent in making various useful garments, which are, at the same time, suitable for company sewing. Opera hoods, wool shawls, sleeves, Sontags, and other ladies' articles, may be varied by embroidering smoking caps, slippers, or handkerchiefs for gentlemen.
Embroidering on canvas, or tapestry work, opens a large field for taste and skill in execution. Beautifularticles for presents, chair covers, sofa cushions, slippers, may be worked in the otherwise idle moments spent in familiar society, and the fingers will soon acquire skill and astonishing rapidity.
The German ladies have constantly on hand a piece of netting or other fancy work, which they carry from place to place, and take out when conversing; and so far from entirely engrossing their thoughts, they chat more readily and freely with their fingers thus employed.
American ladies will find the custom worth imitating. Many tedious hours will be smoothly, pleasantly passed, with the mind free, but the fingers pleasantly occupied.
An evening passed in sewing or knitting, with one good reader to entertain the industrious workers, will be found very pleasant. I have known a circle of young people meet every week to work in this way, the reader being changed twice or three times in the course of the evening, and these meetings have proved so pleasant, that scarcely any member failed to plead "prior engagement" if invited out upon the evening appointed to read and sew.
It was formerly objected by the adversaries to mental cultivation in women, that the acquirement of book learning would make them neglect needlework; but so far from this being the case, the present, which is often called the age of learning, is preëminently a working age. Never were fingers more actively engaged than those of the rising female generation; braiding, embroidery,Berlin work, knitting, netting, and crochet, are all in full play. A long neglected work has been recently revived, called by the French "La Frivolité." It is very pretty evening work, partly because it does not impede conversation, for it may be carried on almost without looking at it, and partly because no other work shows to so much advantage the grace and delicacy of the hands. The most simple form of this work was anciently known under the name of Tatting, but that only consisted of a series of loops in a straight line, which were used for trimming linen articles, and which was not so pretty as La Frivolité, which has varieties which are a good imitation of point, and may be used for collars and sleeves.
I give a few specimens of pretty work for evening sewing, and refer the reader to "The Ladies' Handbook of Embroidery," published by G. G. Evans, for a full, complete description of every kind of fancy work, with specimens, patterns, and clear, plain directions.
Netted Cuffs—These cuffs are very pretty, and easy to make. They are in plain netting, and will require white, and five shades of scarlet wool.
Set on thirty-five stitches of the white wool. Net five rows, then take a mesh a very little larger, and widen by netting two stitches in every stitch. Then net with the smallest mesh the two lightest shades, one row of each, and two rows of the other three shades. Then graduate the shades back again to white, narrowing the first row of white with the larger mesh. Net ten rows with the smaller mesh, widen again, repeat the shades of red, narrow again, and finish with the five rows of white.
Materials Required—Half an ounce of white and half an ounce of shaded Berlin wool will be sufficient.
Cast on a hundred stitches with white wool, and knit and pearl alternately for four rows.
Shaded wool—Knit one row plain; next row bring forward, and take two together to the end.
White wool—Knit and pearl alternately four rows.
Shaded wool—Knit plain six rows.
White wool—Knit a row, decreasing it by taking the first two stitches together, and the last two. Pearl a row. Knit a row, decreasing it as before. Pearl a row.
Shaded wool—Knit a row, decreasing at the beginning and end. Next row, bring forward and take two together to the end.
White wool—Knit a row, decreasing at both ends. Pearl a row. Knit a row, decreasing as before. Pearl a row.
Shaded Wool—1st row—Slip one. Knit two plain stitches (a.) Wool forward. Knit one. Wool forward. Knit two together. Knit one. Knit two together. Repeat from (a.)
2nd row—Pearled.
3rd row—Slip one. Knit two plain stitches (b.) Wool forward. Knit three plain stitches. Wool forward. Slip one. Knit two together. Pass the slipped stitch over the knitted ones. Repeat from (b.)
4th row—Pearled.
5th row—Slip one. Knit two plain stitches, (c.) Wool forward. Knit two together. Knit one. Knit two together. Wool forward. Knit one. Repeat from (c.)
6th row—Pearled.
7th row—Slip one. Knit two plain stitches (d.) Wool forward. Slip one. Knit two together. Pass the slipped stitch over the knitted ones. Wool forward. Knit three plain stitches. Repeat from (d.)
8th row—Pearled. Repeat the last eight rows.
White wool—Knit and pearl alternately for four rows; decrease at the beginning and ending of the two plain rows.
Shaded wool—Knit one plain row; decrease at the beginning and ending. Next row; bring the wool forward, knit two together to the end of the row.
White wool—Knit and pearl alternately for four rows; decrease at the beginning and ending of the two plain rows.
Knit eighteen plain stitches, run a piece of cotton through the remaining sixty-two stitches. Pearl and knit alternately, decreasing at the beginning and ending of every plain row, until you have four stitches remaining; cast them off; then take up eighteen stitches on the opposite sides, and work a piece to correspond; leaving forty-four centre stitches on the cotton.
Take up the centre stitches on a needle pointed at both ends, draw the cotton out; then pick up fourteen stitches at each end of the needle.
Shaded wool—Knit two plain rows.
White wool—Knit one plain row. Next row; wool forward, knit two together to the end of the row.
Shaded wool—Knit two plain rows and cast off. Join the two points together at the back of the cap. Fold the front at the first pattern row, and hem it to form the scallop at the edge. Pick up eighty stitches at the back of the cap.
It is well known that worked muslin collars, particularly if the work is good, very soon wear out; as the work is too heavy for the muslin, which, when it has been washed two or three times, becomes full of slits and holes, though the work is still as good as ever. When this is the case, cut the muslin off the work with a pair of sharp scissors, and lay the work on the pattern of a collar cut in paper, so as to fill the whole of the pattern. The work may be taken from two or three collars; the arrangement of it must depend upon taste. When the cut-out work is properly arranged, it must be tacked or basted to the paper pattern; and this is best done with colored thread, that no mistake may arise when the basting threads are to be drawn out. Four or six threads are then drawn from one piece of work to another, with a needle and cotton, so as to attach them together, and the loose threads are then overcast like button-holes, so as to imitate the uniting threads of point lace. When well done, with a sufficient quantity of the uniting threads, to make the work firm, these collars are handsome, and will wash and wear well.
It is now customary to knit white veils of what is called Lady Betty's wool, for babies to put over their faces when they are carried out in cold weather, instead of pocket-handkerchiefs, which were formerly used for the purpose, though they were very unfit for it. Knitted veils in black silk or worsted are also worn by grown-up persons. The veils for babies are very simple in their construction; they consist of oblong pieces of knitting of any width and depth that may be required, with knitted lace at the bottom and sides, and a string case at the top. The following pattern is the most common:
Knit and pearl alternately four rows, so that there may be two of each; then bring forward and take two together an entire row. This pattern is repeated through the entire veil; and it must be observed, that as many stitches must be cast on as will make it of the necessary width. The needles should be of the smallest size, of bone. Any lace will do; but the following pattern, though not new, is both pretty and suitable; and has, besides, the important recomendation of being very easy.
Cast on eleven stitches and knit a row plain, then begin the pattern.
1st row—Knit three; bring forward and take two together; knit one, take two together; put the thread twice round the needle, take two together, and knit one.
2nd row—Knit two, pearl one, knit one, put the thread twice round the needle, take two together, bring forward, and knit five.
3rd row—Knit three, bring forward, take two together,knit one, bring forward, knit two, pearl one, bring forward, take two together, and knit two.
4th row—Knit two, bring forward, knit five, bring forward, take two together, knit five.
5throw—Knit three, bring forward, and take two together, knit the rest plain.
6th row—Cast off four, and knit the rest plain.
Examine carefully the form of the needle, andtrythe hook, to ascertain that it is perfectly smooth. Some are so sharp and ill-made as to tear the cotton. Select those which are not of uniform thickness up to the hook; the best are those which are thinner there than an inch farther up. Where the needle is not proportionally fine near the hook, it is almost impossible to keep the work even.
Chain stitch ought to be done rather loosely, as working on it afterwards contracts it, and is apt to give it a puckered appearance. It is often advisable to use a needle one size larger for making the chain than for the rest of the work, especially in edgings. It will be found much easier to work the succeeding rows when this precaution is taken. Crochet needles should be kept in a housewife similar to those used for ordinary needles. The slightest soil or rust should be effaced with fine sandpaper.
Take two pieces of fine silk braid, scarlet or royal blue, and a No. 3 bone crochet hook.
Make a chain of eight stitches, unite the ends, and thenD. C.the first round, putting two stitches into each loop; there will now be sixteen stitches and in the next round one long must be worked into every stitch, and two chain between each long; the round will now consist of forty-eight stitches, and we commence the pattern, or diamonds.
3rd round—Three long, two chain, four long with two chain after each, and these long put into every second loop; repeat.
4th round—Five long, two chain, five long with two chain after each, and these long put into every second loop with the exception of the fifth or last of them, which must skip two stitches instead of one; repeat.
5th round—Seven long, two chain, seven long with two chain after each, and each of these long put into every second stitch; repeat.
6th round—Five long, two chain, five long with two chain after each, and each of these long put into every other stitch, three long, two chain, five long again with two chain after each, and each put into every second stitch; repeat from beginning.
7th round—Three long, two chain, five long with two chain after each and worked in every third loop, five long, two chain, five long again with two chain after each, and these long worked as aforesaid in every third loop; repeat from beginning.
8th round—One long, two chain, five long with two chain after each and these long put into every third stitch, seven long, two chain, again five long, &c. &c.; repeat from beginning.
9th round—Six long with two chain after each and work in every third stitch, (five long, twelve long with two chain after each, these long put in every third stitch); repeat the pattern in brackets.
10th round—Nine long with two chain after them, these long being worked in every second loop, (three long, two chain, nineteen long with two chain after them, and the long worked in every second loop); repeat the pattern in brackets.
11th, 12th, and 13th rounds—A long and two chain all round, and the long being worked alternately in every second and third loop; care being taken to bring one into the position to complete each diamond as it is come to.
A crochet edging, begun with braid, and the last two or three rows worked with gold twist as nearly the size of the braid as may be, and a cord and tassels, finish off this elegant head-dress.
The cord should be run in and out through the thirteenth round. We, however, prefer a single-crochet band of some fifty stitches long and six or eight wide, worked in the same material as the net, to a cord, and this band may be finished off with a piece of gold fringe instead of tassels at the ends, or with a scallop of edging crocheted in gold twist.
Take three pieces of fine embroidery chenille, and a No. 3 bone crochet hook.
Make a chain of about forty stitches, or one long enough to go round the wrist; Dc one row.
3rd row—Two long, one chain and miss a stitch—repeat this all along. Then one row Dc.
6th row—Long crochet workedveryloosely, so much so as to leave these stitchesat leasthalf an inch high; two stitches to be put into every second or third loop and one in each of the others all the way along; fasten off.
Join the chenille now on to the first row, and work a similar row or frill to the one just directed, so that there be one on each side.
Run a narrow velvet through the holes of the third row and affix wider velvet ends, or chenille tassels to each extremity. Finish off with a button and loop, and flute the frill on each side over the finger to make it set.
We need scarcely say that the chenille used should be selected to match or agree with the evening dress, and that the velvet must match the chenille.
These bands may be made to look very handsome by working a row of Dc loosely and evenly along the edge of each frill with gold or silver twist, and running a band of gold or silver braid or trimming through the holes in the third row instead of velvet. Then small bullion tassels to match the twist will form a suitable and elegant finish.
These bands may be worked round and slid over the hand like muffatees, or made open as we have directed and buttoned, like the glove. The buttons should be covered with crochet, and the loops crocheted.
Three ounces of Three thread White Fleecy Wool. Pair of No. 10 Bone Knitting Pins. Cast on forty-five stitches.
Knit three rows.
4th row—Knit ten; × make two and knit two together; knit one; × knit the last six stitches.
5th row—Knit, dropping the second of each of the two made stitches all along.
Knit eight rows.
14th row—Knit ten; × make one and knit two together × repeat until six remain; knit three; make one; knit three.
15th row—Knit six; × make one and knit two together × repeat until ten remain, which knit.
Repeat these two rows three times more each, only not enlarging one (as in the end of row fourteen),everytime, but only once in four rows, merely knitting the six in the intervening rows.
22nd row—Knit. Knit the next seven rows.
30th row—Same as14th.
31strow—Same as15th.
Keep on alternately knitting eight open, and then eight knitted rows, and enlarging one stitch at the end in every fourth row until there are a hundred and twenty-four rows.
Then decrease one stitch at the beginning or front in every other row for thirty-two rows, still continuing the pattern as before, and still enlarging one stitch in everyfourth row, at the end or back. This shapes one side of the neck.
Now knit forty-eight rows without increase or decrease at either end, continuing the pattern or alternation of eight open and eight plain knitted rows. This forms the back of the neck and the bottom of the back of the habit-shirt.
In the next thirty-two rows we diminish one in every fourth row, by knitting two together at the back, while at the same time in every fourth row, at the back, we knit two together, and make one in order to form a series of holes, or pattern parallel to that on the other side caused by enlarging in every fourth row. We also cast on one, at the opposite end, in every other row, to shape the second side of the neck. We then knit one hundred and twelve rows, having each ten knitted stitches in the front of the habit-shirt, as on the opposite side, and six at the back, and decreasing one in every fourth row, at the back, and continuing the pattern, and also the series of holes at the back.
Knit eight rows.
Knit ten stitches, × make two and knit two together; × knit six at end.
Knit all, dropping the second of each of the two made stitches. Knit two rows; cast off.
Now, with same needles, pick up the stitches all along the right front of the habit-shirt; knit two rows and cast off. Do the same on the left front. Then pick up those of the neck, and do the same, shaping it, if necessary, by knitting two together occasionally. These finishing-off rows look pretty done in pale pink or blue wool.Button-holes may be made thus:—in the front or where the ten stitches are, and about once in thirty rows, knit three; cast off four; knit three instead of knitting the ten as usual. Next row, when we get back to the ten stitches, knit three; cast on four; knit three.
Half an ounce of White Lamb's Wool. Three No. 13 Knitting Needles. Cast on Thirty stitches.
1st row—Knit.
2nd row—Knit two; make or enlarge one stitch by picking up one from the previous row and knitting it; knit all the rest.
3rd row—Knit. Repeat second and third rows alternately four times more each of them.
12th row—Knit two; make a stitch according to directions above given; knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two.
13th row—Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately three times more each.
20th row—Knit two; enlarge one as before directed; knit rest until two remain; enlarge one; knit two.
21st row—Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately three more times each.
28th row—Knit.
29th row—Knit fourteen stitches, and leave the other upon the needle. Take up the third needle and knit twenty rows more, of fourteen stitches each.
49th row—Knit two together; knit twelve; on same needle, and with same wool, cast on twenty-seven stitches.
50th row—Knit.
51st row—Knit two; knit two together; knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two.
52nd row—Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately twice more each.
57th row—Knit two; make one in manner directed; knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two.
58th row—Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately three times more each.
65th row—Knit all until four remain; knit two together; knit two.
66th row—Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately four more times each.
75th row—Knit.
76th row—Cast off.
This completes the slipper portion of the sock. We now begin the instep-piece. Take the wool and knit off ten stitches from the needle on which the twenty-seven stitches were left; knit these ten from the toe-end, or that where the twenty rows of fourteen stitches each has been made; leave the remaining seventeen stitches still on the same needle. Knit twenty rows of ten stitches, and in every other one pick up the edge-stitch of the toe-piece and knit it with the tenth stitch, so as to unite these two portions, viz: the toe and the instep. With each stitch of the twentieth row, an edge-stitch of the side at the toe-end of the slipper must be picked up, knitted and cast off, and a neat and entire union of the toe of the slipper and the instep piece formed.
This instep piece is to be ribbed in rows of four, viz:four rows in which the plain side is uppermost, and four rows in which the pearled side is uppermost.
We now commence the leg portion of the sock.
With the needle which has been left in the first side of the slipper carefully pick up the edge-stitches all along the instep-piece and side of the slipper; when this is done, there should be about fifty on the needle. Take the wool and knit all along, including the picked up stitches, and the seventeen originally on the needle. Knit two rows.
4th row—Knit two; × make two (not by picking up, but in the ordinary way, by passing the wool twice over the needle), and knit two together; knit one; × repeat.
5th row—Knit all; casting off one of each of the double made stitches. Now knit twenty rows ribbed like the instep-piece.
26th row—× Knit one; make one and knit two together; × repeat all round.
27th row—Knit.
28th row—Knit two; × make one and knit two together; knit one; × repeat.
29th, 30th, and 31st rows—Knit.
32nd row—Cast off.
Take a wool needle, thread it with wool, and sew up the sock neatly, stitch for stitch, from the top of the leg to the point of the sole; then sew the toe; turn it; put on a little rosette of raveled wool; run a ribbon in and out through the holes at rows 4 and 5, of the leg portion, and it is completed.
As this is intended for an Infant's Sock, we have ordered white wool, that being most useful; should it,however, be wished to knit socks for an older baby, the slipper may be made of Cerise, Scarlet, Pale Blue, Green, or Straw-colored wool; and the 26th, 27th, and 28th rows, of the leg portion, and the casting-off done in the color of the slipper; while the instep-piece and the rest of the sock are made in white wool.
The sock may also be enlarged by casting on extra stitches in the beginning, and adding a couple of rows to each of the divisions of the slipper part, and enough to the toe to preserve its form and symmetry.
Almost any of the open anti-maccassar patterns may be used for knitting the sock and instep-piece, if a light lace-like appearance is desired. The well-known rose-leaf pattern looks particularly pretty.
[To Contents]
An English writer, speaking of servants, says:—
"There is no question but that we should seek to performallour duties without hope of recompense; and yet, as regards our treatment of servants, we should be especially careful that, in endeavoring to make their bodily comfort and mental improvement an object of consideration, we do not allow ourselves to dwell on the hope of gratitude or affection from them in return. Many have done so, and having, with that view, been tempted to accord unwise indulgences and to overlook serious faults, they have found that, far from gaining the love of their servants, they have incurred their contempt; and when they have perceived that their favors, unappreciated, have led but to new encroachments, they have hardened their hearts and rushed into an opposite extreme. Then they have considered their servants as mere machines, from which labor must be extorted by all available means.
"A man servant is rarely grateful, and seldom attached. He is generally incapable of appreciating those advantages which, with your cultivated judgment, youknow to be the most conducive to his welfare. Do you accord to him regular hours, a stated allowance of work; do you refrain from sending him out because it is wet and he is unwell; do you serve yourself rather than ring for him at dinner time; he will rarely have the grace to thank you in his heart for your constant consideration. Hear him! He will thus describe a comfortable place:—'There were very few in the family; when they went out of a night, we made it up of a morning; we had nice hot suppers, and the cook made a good hash for breakfast, and we always got luncheon between that and dinner; and we were all very comfortable together, and had a friend in when we liked. Master swore at us sometimes, but often made us a present for it when he had been very violent; a good-hearted man as ever lived, and mistress was quite the lady, and never meddled with servants. It was a capital place!'
"Servants' sympathies are with their equals. They feel for a poor servant run off his legs, and moped to death; they have no feeling for a pains-taking mistress, economical both from principle and scanty means; they would (most of them) see her property wasted, and her confidence abused without compunction. It is the last effort of a virtue in a servant if, without anyprivate reason, he should discharge his duty by informing you of the injury which you are enduring at the hands of his fellow servant. It is an effort of virtue, for it will bring down many a bitter taunt and hard word upon his faithful head. 'Inever got a servant out of a place by telling tales on him,' will be said to him. Directly a servant departs, we all know, tongues, tied before, areloosed, to gain our favor by apparent candor. When it can avail us nothing, we are told. We all know this, and have said, 'Be silent now, you should have mentioned this at the time.' Supposing, then, you have therara avis, the servant that 'speaks at the time,' be chary of him, or let me sayher, (the best servants are women.) Oh! as you value her, let her not suppose you cannot part with her. Treat her with confidence, but with strict impartiality; reprove when necessary, mildly, but decidedly; lest she should presume (power is so tempting), and compel you, if you would retain your freedom, to let her go.
"There is one thing a man servant values beyond all that your kindness and your consideration can do for him—his liberty; liberty to eat, drink, and be merry, with your things in the company of his own friends; liberty to get the housemaid to clean his candlesticks, and bring up his coals; and the housemaid wishes for liberty to lie in bed in the morning, because she was up so late talking to John in the pantry; liberty to wear flounces and flowers. The cook desires liberty too. For this liberty, if you grant it, they will despise you; if you deny it, they will respect you. Aim at their esteem; despair of their love or gratitude; make your place what the best class of servants will value, and, though in their heart, they may not thank you for it, you will gain, perhaps, one servant out of twenty who will keep gross imposition and gross immorality at bay.
"These remarks can never be intended to deny the warm attachment of female servants to the children of their employers. Deep love, no doubt, is lavished bymany a woman on the babe she has nursed. There is a great deal to be said on the chapter of nurses which would require to be dealt with by itself. Much wisdom is required in the administration of a nursery, to which few general rules would apply. Cruel is the tyranny the nurse frequently practises on the parent, who often refrains from entering her nursery, not from want of love to her children, but positive dread of the sour looks which greet her. Let her be firm, let no shrinking from grieving her darling, who would 'break his heart if his Nanna went,' deter her from discharging the encroaching servant.
"I know a lady who was quietly informed by her nurse that she must have a 'specified hour' for visiting her children, for that her entering without ceremony was most inconvenient. The poor young lady, who was fully persuaded her delicate infant would die, if removed to a stranger's hands, meekly obeyed, and though tortured by the cries of the poor sickly baby, never dared to intrude lest the nurse should abandon it. This is a true history, and the sequel may as well be given: that the nurse remained seven years, at the end of which time, having become insupportable, though really devoted to the children, she gave warning, and, though it cost her mistress bitter tears and much resolution, she was suffered to depart, and then peace entered that house.
"On the choice of servants much of the comfort of the young housekeeper depends. It often happens that her choice has been determined by appearance rather than the value of character. If such be the case, she will have many difficulties to encounter. It is, in the presentday, hardly safe to take a servant if there be a single objection to character, however it may be glossed over by the person referred to on this point; for there is now an unhealthy disposition to pass over the failings of servants who have left their places, and to make them perfect in the eyes of others. In respect to sobriety, many people will not acknowledge that a servant had had the vice of drinking, but will cover the unpleasant truth in such gentle and plausible terms that it becomes difficult to comprehend how far the hint is grounded, or not. Be assured when a lady or gentleman hesitates on this point, or on that of honesty, it is wiser not to engage a servant. Nor are you deviating from Christian charity in not overlooking a dereliction of so material a sort. The kindest plan to the vast community of domestic servants is to be rigid in all important points, and having, after a due experience, a just confidence in them, to be somewhat indulgent to errors of a more trivial nature.
"If all young housekeepers were strict upon the subject of dress, much misery to servants would be saved, much temptation avoided, and self-reproach prevented. Instead of this kind, and wise, and matronly particularity, a type of the good, old-fashioned common sense of our grandmothers, ladies now countenance their ladies'-maids in discontinuing caps, or, if they have caps, in wearing flowers and lace, flowered gowns, and other items of little apparent moment in detail, but of much importance to a community as serviceable to the public when well managed and respectable, as they are odious and noxious when immoral or insolent. After these cruel indulgences, ladies marvel when they find servants rise above theirstation and that they will not bear even a mild reproof; they wonder that a plain, useful servant is nowhere to be met with. There is now no medium between the fine lady with mittens and flowers who dresses your hair, and the dirty sloven of a lodging-house. All housemaids must now be upper housemaids; cooks must be cooks and housekeepers. The homely housemaid—that invaluable character in her way—is indeed difficult to be found; and, at a time when cleanliness is at its zenith, the rarity is to discover any one who will clean. All, except the raw country girl, expect to have deputies; and, if we go on to perfection in this unhealthy system, we shall soon have no working servants above twenty years of age. The consequence is, that a greater number of servants are kept in every household than formerly in similar families; many of these menials are corrupted by congregating together and by idleness. The loud and crying complaints of the worthlessness of this class are but too justly founded. That they are more mercenary than ever, is owing to the pernicious system which lifts them up above their condition, but fails to elevate them in the moral standard. In the scale of virtue they sink every day lower and lower; in the outward attributes they are, as they consider it, raised in character and improved in appearance.
"But is it so? The beauty of every thing is fitness. Is the half-fine, unlady-like, yet lady-like creature, who answers to your dressing-room bell, half so respectable as the old-fashioned, plainly dressed, careful, homely maiden of your young days? Is it not with a feeling of disgust that you turn from the attempted finery, andsigh for plain collars, and caps undecked by flowers, again? I think, among the best-bred, the most sensible, and, indeed, the most highly born people of a superior stamp, this disgust is so strong that, in some families, a grave and suitable costume is introduced for the female servants, and the effect is satisfactory, both on the appearance and on the mode of thinking of these persons. But this wise, and therefore kind plan, is far from being general; and I have heard that a lady's-maid complained to her mistress that she found herself the subject of ridicule, owing to her not wearing silks, and indeed satins, as the other ladies'-maids did.
"It becomes the duty of ladies of influence to rise above the silly vanity which, I fear, affects some of them, of seeing their ladies'-maids as smart as ladies, and to oppose innovations on the decencies of society, so pernicious to the class upon whom much of our comfort depends. In setting out in life, a young married lady ought to be more than ordinarily strict in these matters, for her inexperience will certainly be taken advantage of to some extent. If she be rich enough to have a housekeeper, let her endeavor to select one of strict religious faith, plain in attire, grave, but kind, and of good sense, and even intelligence; for cultivation of mind will never, whatever may be stated, detract from the utility of a servant. It is absurd to attribute to the diffusion of knowledge the deterioration of servants; it is rather owing to the scanty amount of knowledge among them. Most superficial is the education about which so much is said and written; were servants more thoroughly grounded in many branches of knowledge, they would bewiser, less rapacious, more systematic, and better contented than they are. They are wretched reasoners, generally losing sight of their own true interest, and grasping at that which is unreal and visionary. If they were better educated, this would not be the case; they would be less vain, less credulous; they would know what qualities to respect; they would weigh better the advantage of their lot; and they would work better as servants. They would give mind, where now they only give hands; and their acquirements, taken from school as they are in very early youth, are not ever likely to be such as to make the routine of their work distasteful to them, from over refinement or cultivation.
"It is always desirable to have, if possible, servants of one faith. But if it so happens that you have a Roman Catholic servant and a Protestant in your service, you are bound to allow each the free exercise of her religion, and you ought not to respect them if, out of interest, they will conform to yours. An exercise of authority on this point amounts, in my opinion, to an act of tyranny, and it can only tend to promote insincerity, and, perhaps, engender scepticism in its object. Nothing is, indeed, so dangerous as to unsettle the faith of the lower classes, who have neither time nor opportunity of fairly considering subjects of religious controversy.
"While on the subject of servants, I must deprecate the over-indulgence of the present system towards them. Formerly they were treated with real kindness, but it was the kindness that exacted duty in return, and took a real interest in the welfare of each servant. The reciprocal tie in former times between servant and master wasstrong, now it is wholly gone. The easy rule of masters and mistresses proceeds far more from indifference than from kindness of heart; for the real charity is to keep servants steadily to their duties. They are a class of persons to whom much leisure is destruction; the pursuits of their idle hours are seldom advantageous to them, and theirs are not minds which can thrive in repose. Idleness, to them, is peculiarly the root of all evil, for, if their time is not spent in vicious amusements, it is often passed in slander, discontent, or vanity. In writing thus, I do not recommend a hard or inconsiderate system to servants. They require, and in many instances they merit, all that can be done to alleviate a situation of servitude. They ought not to be the slaves of caprice or the victims of temper. Their work should be measured out with a just hand; but it should be regularly exacted in as much perfection as can be expected in variable and erring human nature.
"Another point on which I would recommend firmness is that of early hours. In this respect example is as important as precept; but, however uncertain you may be yourself, I would not relax a rule of that kind. For every comfort during the day depends upon the early rising of your servants. Without this, all their several departments are hurried through or neglected in some important respect.
"Your mode of address to servants must be decisive, yet mild. The authoritative tone I do not recommend. It is very unbecoming to any young person, and it rarely attains the end desired; but there is a quiet dignity of deportment which few servants ever can resist. Thisshould be tempered with kindness, when circumstances call it forth, but should never descend to familiarity. For no caution is more truly kind than which confines servants strictly to their own sphere.
"Much evil results from the tendency, more especially of very young, or of very old mistresses of families, to partiality. Commonly, one servant becomes the almost avowed favorite; and it is difficult to say whether that display of partiality is the more pernicious to the servant who is the object of it, or to the rankling and jealous minds of the rest of the household. It is true that it is quite impossible to avoid entertaining a greater degree of confidence in some servants than in others; but it should be shown with a due regard to the feelings of all. It is, of course, allowable towards those who take a decidedly responsible and confidential situation in a household. Still, never let such persons assume the reins of government; let them act the part of helmsman to the vessel, but not aspire to the control of the captain.
"It is generally wise and right, after a due experience of the principles and intentions of servants, to place confidence in their honesty, and to let them have the comfort of knowing that you do so. At the same time, never cease to exercise a system of supervision. The great principle of housekeeping is regularity; and without this (one of the most difficult of the minor virtues to practice) all efforts to promote order must be ineffectual. I have seen energetic women, clever and well-intentioned, fail in attaining a good method, owing to their being uncertain in hours, governed by impulse, and capricious. I have seen women, inferior in capacity, slow, and apathetic,make excellent heads of families, as far as their household was concerned, from their steadiness and regularity. Their very power of enduring monotony has been favorable to their success in this way, especially if they are not called upon to act in peculiar and difficult cases, in which their actual inferiority is traceable. But these are not the ordinary circumstances of life.
"In closing these remarks on the management of servants, let me exhort you never to forget that they are fellow-laborers, in the life of probation, with ourselves; let us not embitter their lives by harshness, or proffer to them temptation from carelessness and over-indulgence. Since all that is given us of this world's goods is but in trust, let us regard our servants as beings for whose conduct, while under our control, we are more or less responsible. It is true that, if they come to us with morals wholly depraved, it is not likely that the most strenuous exertions can amend them; but many waver between good and evil. Let us endeavor to excite in their minds a respect for virtue, to give them motives for industry, inducements to save their wages. Those who have large households should not deem the morals of the meanest of their servants beneath their investigation, or too obscure for their influence to reach."
Some attention is absolutely necessary, in this country, to the training of servants, as they come here from the lowest ranks of English and Irish peasantry, with as much idea of politeness as the pig domesticated in the cabin of the latter.
Opening the door seems a simple act, yet few servants perform it in a proper, respectful manner. Let yourservant understand that the door must be opened immediately after the bell rings. Visitors, from neglect of this rule, will often ring several times, and finally leave the door. I have known an instance when in a case of severe illness the patient lost the visit of the doctor, who, after ringing some minutes, was obliged to pay other visits, and could not return to the sufferer's house until several hours later.
When opening the door some servants hold it ajar and hold a long parley with the person on the steps, as if afraid they wished to enter for the purpose of murder or theft.
Train them to answer the door promptly, speak politely to any one who may be there, excuse you, if necessary, to visitors in courteous terms, or, if you are in, show the callers into the parlor, take their card, and come back quickly with your answer.