CHAPTER XVII.

THE SCHOOLROOM.

In the selection of the schoolroom there are several things to be thought of; but if the nursery be done away with, and there should be no upstairs sitting-room, I strongly advise the schoolroom being on the bedroom floor. This is often a most useful institution, for sometimes it serves as a refuge to invalids who are well enough to leave their bedrooms, but not well enough to run the risks of draught on the stairs, while the children are out of the way of visitors, and are not always running up and down the passages in a distracting and untidy manner.

Let me urge on all mothers of families to cling to either a day nursery or a schoolroom until the children are really too old to be glad of some place where they can do actually and positively as they like; that is to say, of course, unless they like to behave like savages, but this rarely happens in a household where the little ones have been accustomed to nice surroundings, and to be treated like human beings from their cradles.

It is most important that children should be let a great deal alone, and to insure this it is perfectly necessary that some room should be set apart for their use entirely, furnished in such a way that one is not constantly obliged to be saying ‘Don’t do this’ and ‘Don’t do that,’ and yet in a manner that shall foster every nice taste and encourage every good habit possible; and great care should be also taken to insure sufficient sunshine, for sunshine is life and health, and a dark and sunless room often fosters a dark and sunless nature.

I should strongly advise the floor of the schoolroom to be covered with Indian matting, if expense be no object, with rugs about at intervals: this is always clean and fresh, and can be changed often. Next to Indian matting comes the stained edge to the floor so often recommended, with the nice square of Kidderminster carpet laid down over carpet felt, and edged with a woollen fringe; the best carpets of this particular make are called ‘three-ply,’ and are sold by the yard, and are infinitely superior in every way to the ‘squares’ sold ready made in different sizes, and edged by a border, which is generally far too large a pattern to look nice. The carpets sold by the yard are much better designs and colours, and wear three times as long as the cheaper makes; but under _no_ circumstances should the schoolroom be the refuge for half-worn costly carpets, which want wearing out, and yet are too shabby for the downstairs apartments. These had far better be got rid of in some sale; for an old carpet is nothing but a dust-bin on a small scale, and can never be fresh enough to pat in a room where there are children.

The walls could be covered with one of the washable sanitary papers, if one can be procured in a sufficiently pretty pattern; but it is emphatically necessary that the walls should have a real dado, either of oilcloth painted some good artistic shade--four coats are necessary to eliminate the pattern--of cretonne, or matting, which would be best of all. This keeps the lower part of the wall tidy always; and if the sanitary paper can be obtained in a self-colour, the plainness of this can be done away with by a good selection of pictures, than which nothing is more necessary in a schoolroom; and the children had far better be plainly dressed and fed than have bad pictures provided for them, or ugly drawings only relating to their work.

In these days of cheap art there is no reason why we should be without pictures of some kind everywhere, and they should be chosen carefully, either for their beauty or for the lesson they teach. Having a positive horror of gambling, horse-racing, or betting in any shape or form myself, I cannot regard any house satisfactorily furnished without autotypes of my father’s pictures of ‘The Road to Ruin.’ These admirable pictures have pointed a moral over and over again in my house, and will, I hope, point many another; for the children are always ready to look at them and make out for themselves the dismal o’er-true tale. If, however, these pictures should be objected to, I should advise autotypes of some of Sir Joshua’s lovely child-pictures, Leader’s ‘At evening time it shall be light,’ ‘Chill October,’ any of the etchings after Burton Barber’s amusing dog-pictures, and those equally entertaining fox-terrier sketches of Mr. Yates Carrington, Waller’s ‘The Day of Reckoning,’ and, in fact, any of the beautiful etchings done of late years, and that average 5_l._ each; these purchases being infinitely more necessary in a house where there are children than diamonds or plate or smart furniture and expensive decorations, and should be bought, as soon as ever they can be afforded, by any householder who really has the welfare of his family at heart.

The ceiling should be papered in some bright blue and white paper, and should have a good ventilator somewhere in the centre. No gas should be allowed, and light should be furnished by two good hanging lamps conveniently placed; while each child who is old enough to do its work after tea in the winter should have its own shaded Queen’s reading lamp, and should be taught to keep it clean and bright for itself; thus the servants would not be troubled on this subject unduly, though, should there be a schoolroom maid, she could take the lamps under her charge with the rest of the schoolroom belongings.

There should be two good cupboards in the room, which could be placed in the recesses on each side of the fireplace, should there be any; these could be simply made with shelves in the recesses and with wooden doors to fasten over them; these could be painted some self-colour to match the prevailing colour of the room, and the panels could be filled in either with the ever-useful Japanese leather paper, or be embellished by Mrs. McClelland’s clever brush with studies of some lovely flowers; brass handles should be added, and while one cupboard should be set apart for the governess and the schoolroom books, the other should be so arranged that, if possible, each child should have its own shelf. The top of these cupboards could form an excellent receptacle for toys and games, while some of the hanging bookshelves spoken of before could supplement the shelves should there not be room for the extra books. The windows must open top and bottom, and should have short muslin and cretonne curtains; no blinds, of course, but, should the situation be as sunny as it ought to be, outside blinds should be provided, and, furthermore, window-boxes for flowers should never be wanting; the children learn a great deal looking after them, and lessons are far less trying on a hot day if the room is kept cool by sun-blinds, while what air there is blows in over a sweet scent caused perhaps by that best of all mixtures, mignonette and ten-week stocks.

Great care must be taken in selecting the proper tables and chairs; these latter must be wide and comfortable, and the table _must_ be solid and stand on good strong legs while lessons go on. I strongly advise the tablecloth to be removed for fear of accidents with ink, and if oilcloth is sewn over the top this is not as tiresome to write on as is a deal surface, and though it may not look petty it is decidedly clean and remarkably useful, and can be covered with the cloth when lessons are over. Footstools should never be wanting, and a good broad window-seat, that could be made to open and hold books &c., is very useful also, as it will contain a great many odds and ends; while no schoolroom could be complete in my eyes without kittens and puppies, the training and care of which are often of the greatest service to the young masters and mistresses, who, teaching their pets obedience and good behaviour, insensibly learn quite as much as they are themselves teaching.

Though I maintain that education of a certain kind is begun the moment a baby learns to cry for what it wants, and that, no matter how small a child is, it is never too small to be taught obedience, of course its real education begins when it learns its letters. I could read at two, and have read ever since, never being able to be happy without a book or paper; and I am of opinion that the sooner a child can pick up its letters the better, for the moment it can read it is independent, and can amuse itself without always hankering after companionship and entertainment. The best way to teach a child to read is to give it a small wooden frame, made in compartments, and a box of red and black letters; these it picks up one by one, and soon learns to slip them into the frame, making small words. From this it passes easily to a book, and becomes master of a store of amusement that will last all its life; while the governess should be asked to read aloud as much as she can to the children, taking care, of course, to select good and amusing stories, the while she does not bore them with a too forcibly impressed moral tag at the end.

One cannot, of course, lay down any hard-and-fast rules for other people’s children, and can only, after all, give very general hints as to schoolroom arrangements and management, for each household is so different that what suits one family is not of much use to another. Still there are general hints on education that may be of assistance to those who may be about to set up a schoolroom, and, though I feel rather diffident about speaking as much about myself as I must, I think I must tell just a little more of the way in which I have managed that most important part of the establishment.

To begin with: great cleanliness, order, regularity, and punctuality must be insisted on and maintained by the dining-room example. The children’s breakfast should be at eight, and should consist, if possible, of oatmeal porridge every other day, followed by either an egg, bacon, or some fish. I say advisedly ‘if possible,’ for some children cannot touch porridge; and though I am no advocate for pampering appetite, and scorn rich and elaborate cooking, which in England all too often engulfs the money that would buy pictures or allow of excursions and travel, I do protest most solemnly against the petty tyranny of making children eat food that is actually and positively nauseous to them: and, furthermore, without consulting the child, and so making him unduly of consequence in his own eyes, it is imperative that a judicious parent should notice likes and dislikes, and so legislate that something should be provided that all the children can eat; and no breakfast should pass without fruit of some kind being provided. Children crave for fruit and sweet things, and a careful parent gives enough, without allowing the excess that is so harmful, and that only occurs in families, as a rule, where sweets are ignored, and fruit handed round as a rarity after the conclusion of a large and expensive meal.

In winter lessons could be from nine until twelve, when the walk should be taken, or some games indulged in. Luncheon should be at one, and should far oftener include fish or chicken than it usually does. Tea, with jam or cake, should be at five, and each child should be encouraged to have milk and a biscuit before it goes to bed. A few pure sweets should be given always after luncheon, and no punishment should ever be inflicted through the appetite. This makes food too prominent a matter in the small mind, and I have always found a few stern and forcible words of more effect than any punishment could be after the first struggle for authority, which invariably occurs once in the lifetime of every child. In two or three cases in my own schoolroom one whipping has been found quite sufficient; while two of the children have never required anything more serious than an early retirement for reflection in bed,] and a few serious sentences that were to the purpose, and did not go beyond it. I am quite aware that in these days it is considered abominable even to suggest a child shall be ‘smacked,’ but in the case of deliberate obstinacy or unbridled howling there is nothing else for it, and, this once done, trouble ceases--the child has found its master, and then there is peace.

I am so convinced that if one has a happy childhood one’s whole life is sweetened by it, no matter whatever happens afterwards, that I cannot impress too much upon my readers the absolute necessity of securing this, at any rate, for their boys and girls. This, however, is not to be had by dressing them finely, and dragging them about from drawing-room to drawing-room, from late party to late party, or by pampering them and considering them until one cannot call the house one’s own, neither does it consist in leaving them to themselves altogether. Apparently, children should be left greatly to themselves, but much in the same manner that--I speak in all sincerity--a higher Power manages us and our affairs. Let the free-will be there, but let the guiding hand, unseen though it should be, never be lacking, and we shall find the children happy and good, because they are surrounded with clean good air, and are brought up in an atmosphere absolutely free from taint of any kind.

The instant the schoolroom is started, that instant both mothers and fathers should become in a measure omniscient and omnipresent; and, above all, they should remember the clear sight and hearing of the children, and should, furthermore, recollect that what they say and do means a great deal more now than it ever did. Let them see their own lives are full of interest, and are of good aim and intent, and they will find example is greater than precept, and that they have succeeded by unconscious example where everything else would have failed.

Of course, it is absolutely necessary that all girls should learn to sew, to cook, and to play the piano; and all boys should have some way of employing their fingers, and no household should be complete without its hospital box; into this the girls can collect all the frocks and petticoats they can make, while the boys can make scrapbooks, paint pictures with water-colours over prints from ‘Punch’ or the ‘Illustrated London News,’ or cut out ships or wooden dolls; and while they are doing this they could be read to from Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, or Miss Yonge--a strange mixture, may be, but to those four writers the world can never be grateful enough, try hard as it may, while the schoolroom contingent brought up on these splendid people’s brains will be worth a hundred of the present-day children, fostered on such idle rubbish as Rider Haggard produces, and others that shall be nameless. And here let me beg and pray the parents to make a stand for Dickens and Thackeray, even if they will not for the other two authors of whom I have spoken. Dickens has become neglected, I know, and Oxford undergraduates, taking to Thackeray late, fall asleep over ‘Esmond’ and ‘The Virginians’; but let these books be in the schoolroom, and boys and girls take to them naturally, like ducks take to water, and are at once made happier by them than they can be by anything else.

Sewing must be learned by girls, because they never know how they may be placed; but, once learnt, I trust no girl may be condemned to sew because it is feminine, for unless she really and truly likes the occupation--and most women do--there is no greater cruelty possible to inflict on a young girl than to make her sew when her fingers are itching to draw, practise, or even write a book. Never prevent her doing this; the greatest happiness I have ever had is when I can get perfect peace and quiet and take my pen in hand, and, even if I never succeed in making a name for myself and startling a world that is over-full of writers already, I can never feel I have lost the time I have spent in writing, for then I have been perfectly contented, and then for me the world has ceased to be--outside Nature--beloved Nature!--and my desk. And then, harming no one, I trust, and helping just a few, I have passed away entirely from all worries incidental to the life of any woman who marries, and has children and a household always on her mind, and have ceased to think of anything save the work on hand at the moment. Girls must learn also to cook, because thus they become mistress of all the details of the household expenditure; and they must learn music, because they can be useful either to accompany songs and glees, or to play dance-music to the little ones; but if no distinct taste is shown, hours should not be wasted on an accomplishment that is most useless, save and except as a mere background, unless decided talent is displayed, when, of course, music should be encouraged as much as possible, for nothing keeps a household more together than does music, and if the boys and girls can only play and sing together there is small difficulty about finding them occupation and keeping them happy at home.

I am always sorry that the power to make music and the capacity for enjoying games were left out of my composition, and in consequence are conspicuous by their absence from our household; but reading has taken their place, and not one of us is unhappy as long as books are to be had; but one tires sometimes of this, and I could wish heartily we all loved games or went in for music, for these tastes are most excellent safeguards against _ennui_ and the craving for excitement and going about that all modern folks seem to possess.

Now one word about Sunday in the schoolroom, and we will pass on to other matters. Whatever you do, never let Sunday be a day of dulness and penance, but make it as bright and happy as you can. Let the household rise as early as on a weekday, be regular at some bright, good service, and make it altogether a bright and pleasant day; let the children see the ‘Graphic’ and ‘Illustrated London News,’ and read their ordinary books. If a book is fit for a weekday it is fit for Sunday. Dine early, because the servants want a little rest, and as a culminating treat have a nice supper about eight, and let the children share it. Don’t tease them with strict rules and sad faces, but let them learn on this day to appreciate rest and to learn something of a higher life, that need not be kept for Sunday alone, but that one has more time to think of on Sunday than on any other day of the week.

I do not myself like to see tennis played or boating or driving for pleasure indulged in, simply, I think, because of old-time prejudice, and because of the noise made or the work given to one’s coachman and horses; but logically there is not half as much harm in these pursuits as there is in the spiteful gossip so many people indulge in after church, or the wasted hours spent in sleep after a heavy dinner eaten under protest and grumbled at everlastingly; and I would much rather my boys played tennis than that they lounged about smoking and sleeping, or wasted their time reading the ‘Sporting Times,’ and longing after their far less harmful rackets. But I at present can manage without this, and prefer to do so, for at present inspecting the animals and wandering about the garden with them seems to suffice, while newspapers and books come in on wet days; while we are all so busy during the week, that the holiday comes as a blessed oasis for which we are all truly thankful. And the children love the illustrated papers--a storehouse of knowledge no parent should be without; and the money spent on them is never wasted, though an Englishman, as a rule, will grudge a few shillings a week for papers, while he never hesitates for a moment to spend double the amount on his dinner, or on that Moloch of English households, the tobacconist.

Above all encourage your own and your children’s friends to come in to tea and talk on Sunday afternoons. This gives no work to the servants, and always makes a nice break. The tea can be set ready before the maids go out, and if many cups are wanted they can be washed up early; and any guest should be made welcome, and sometimes asked to remain for the early supper, which, being cold, and prepared on Saturday, is again of no trouble to the maids. I am very fond of Sunday visitors, and as few English houses open their doors, especially in the country and more distant suburbs, on that day, visitors are often glad to drop in when they can be sure of a welcome and a cup of tea.

Tea in the schoolroom is often, too, a very good institution, for thus the governess sees a little more of life, and acts as hostess; and each child should have its own cup and saucer and plate. This is a great safeguard against breakages, for if one is smashed it must be spoken of at once, and extra cups can be kept for the visitors; but all should be different, so that any breakage may be seen at once, as generally the schoolroom-maid is but young, and apt to conceal any small depredations among the crockery. Now the two great difficulties in a schoolroom are the governess and the schoolroom-maid, and infinite care must be taken in the selection of both. Of course the governess is the first care, and, though she should be mistress in the schoolroom, she yet must only be a viceroy, and must act for the mother entirely, and not at all on her own responsibility unless she is expressly desired to do so. No governess should be engaged who cannot be in some measure a companion to the mother, to whom and with whom she should be in perfect accord; for there are endless ways in which the governess can save a mother of a household, does she make herself really pleasant, if only in conveying the children to the dentist--a necessary business, but one that need not harrow the mother’s feelings if the governess is as good and useful as she ought to be; for the governess does not feel, as a mother does, that all her teeth are being taken out bodily the moment Tommy opens his mouth for inspection, and endures none of the vicarious pangs that make any fanciful mother’s life a burden to her, even though nothing happens. The governess must be healthy, strong-minded, good-tempered, and, above all, must have some nice hobbies, and be fond of teaching them; then the schoolroom will indeed be the heart of the house, and will send out a series of healthy, happy children into the great world. Make the governess one with the household; let your interests be hers, the children for the time being a mutual possession. Take any amount of trouble to procure a really nice girl of a good family, and then you may breathe freely; while if the schoolroom-maid comes young too, and is carefully trained, you will then have a perfectly managed schoolroom, and feel you can rest awhile should you desire it, secure that your place is well filled by a competent minister, who will rule in your place until you return both well and wisely.

Never discuss your governess either with or before the children, and take care that her life is as much as possible a fac-simile of yours. Let her have books and papers and share in any gaiety that is going; and above all try and make her think that she becomes part of the family, should she really stay some time with you, and that your interest in her will last as long as life itself. I can imagine nothing more wicked than to cast off old governesses or servants, and to decline to keep those who have helped us so much, and in a manner no amount of money will repay.

The schoolroom would not be complete in my eyes without just a few sentences on the subject of the children’s dress. This would, in the case of the girls, consist of good warm underclothing; in two sets of combination garments, one in wool, the other in long-cloth; a stay-bodice--never stays on any pretext whatever--made of ribbed material, on which a flannel skirt should be sewn in winter; then another skirt, also sewn on a bodice; and finally that invaluable costume, the ‘smock-frock,’ the skirt trimmed with three rows of tucks, the sleeves full, and the full bodice drawn in with either a loose band or a soft sash of Liberty silk. From the day a baby is put into short clothes until the girl of fifteen becomes too lanky for such a plain dress, there is no other costume as suitable for all times of the year. In summer very thin cashmere is enough, with perhaps a soft silk handkerchief underneath for outdoor wear; in winter a long coat of cashmere and soft cap make admirable outdoor garments, and are put on in a very few moments, while all Liberty’s soft silks and cashmeres are warm without an undue amount of weight, and are all of such lovely colours that no one thinks of the plainness of the material used for a moment. Until girls are fifteen they should always wear pinafores of some kind. I use a very large white diaper pinafore tied with Liberty sashes, and they should furthermore have shoes with straps and low wide heels; while for boys nothing is so sensible as the much-copied Jack Tar suit, with its serge trousers and wide loose shirts, though I personally prefer the Scotch kilt; the sailor suits are soon shabby and generally untidy, while the kilts always look well, wear for ever almost, and there are no knees either of stockings or trousers always giving out and requiring to be mended every moment or so. After the kilts boys can take to jackets and trousers, which in perfection can only be bought of Swears and Wells, Regent Street, W., whose charges are, of course, rather awful to contemplate, but whose clothes undoubtedly outwear three suits of any one else’s; and I speak from the experience of my three boys, for whom I have often tried to go elsewhere, but have always had to return to Swears, for nowhere else can I buy things that to a certain extent will defy the rough usage given to them. The sailor suits can be bought best of Redfern, at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight; the kilts of Swears also.

To conclude: the eye of the mother should really never be taken from the children, as long as they are growing. Weak backs should be detected at once, and allowed to rest on a proper sofa and carefully bathed with salt water; weak ankles should be treated the same; cuts should be dressed with calendula and soft rags; a supply of both and of sticking-plaster should be in every schoolroom cupboard. Camphor is also a good thing to keep ready; it stops many an incipient cold. A good supply of fruit and jam and fresh air and regular exercise stop many an illness and save many a doctor’s bill, and, in fact, a doctor should indeed rarely be required nowadays in a house where mother, governess, and nurse really know their business and really look after the children; for, unless in real illness, doctors seldom are of any use in a schoolroom, and only add up accounts that are really accounts of the mother’s ignorance or selfishness or neglect.

Naturally, when children inherit disease--and that people who inherit diseases or are related should marry is nothing more or less than a crime in my eyes, and should be to the world at large--or are susceptible by inheritance to colds, fevers, &c., the above does not apply; then skilled attention is necessary, and in real cases of need a doctor should be consulted as early as possible; but all girls, and indeed boys, should be taught always something about themselves and their formation, and they should learn early those marvellous, unchangeable laws of health which, once broken, render not only themselves but future generations miserable and wretched for ever; but, of course, great care must be taken here, as indeed everywhere else, to keep the _via media_, else will the children become self-conscious prigs, always anxious about themselves and their well-being.