Chapter 4

AN UNPREACHED SERMON.

Such an odd thing happened a few minutes afterwards. I was sitting quite quietly in my corner, turning over in my mind all the arguments with which I had assailed Aunt Agatha that Sunday afternoon, and watching the pink glow of the firelight in contrast to the whiteness of the snow outside, when the door bell rang, and almost the next moment Uncle Keith came into the room.

I suppose he must have overlooked me entirely, for he went up to Aunt Agatha and sat down beside her.

"Sweetheart," he said, taking her hand, and I should hardly have recognised his voice, "I have been thinking about you all the way home, and what a pleasant sight my wife's face would be after my long walk through the snow and----" But here Aunt Agatha must have given him a warning look, for he stopped rather abruptly, and said, "Hir-rumph" twice over, and Aunt Agatha blushed just as though she were a girl.

I could not help laughing a little to myself as I went out of the room to tell Patience to bring in the tea, and yet that sentence of Uncle Keith touched me somehow. Were middle-aged people capable of that sort of love? Did youth linger so long in them? I had imagined those two such a staid, matter-of-fact couple; they had come together so late in life, that one never dreamt of any possible romance in such a courtship, and yet he could call Aunt Agatha "Sweetheart" in a voice that was not the least drawling. At that moment one would not have called him so plain and insignificant with that kind look on his face. I suppose he keeps that look for Aunt Agatha, for I remember she once told me that she had never seen such a good face as Uncle Keith's "not handsome, Merle, but so thoroughly good."

Patience was toasting the muffins in her bright little kitchen, so I sat down and watched her. I was rather partial to Patience; she was a pretty, neat-looking creature, and I always thought it a great pity that she was engaged to a journeyman bootmaker, who aspired to be a preacher. I never could approve of Reuben Locke, though Aunt Agatha spoke well of him; he was such a weak, pale-faced young man; and I think a man, to be one, ought to have some spirit in him, and not possess only the womanish virtues.

"How is Reuben, Patience?" I asked, somewhat amiably, just for the pleasure of seeing our little handmaid's dimples come into view.

"Reuben's but poorly, miss," replied Patience, as she buttered another smoking muffin, the last of the pile. "He was preaching at Whitechapel the other night and caught a cold and sore throat; his mother says he will not be at chapel to-night."

"I do not approve of street preaching myself," I remarked, a little severely.

"Indeed, miss," replied Patience, innocently, as she prepared to carry in the tea-tray, "Reuben always tells me that the Apostles were street preachers, and Reuben is as clear as Gospel in what he says." But here the drawing-room bell broke off Patience's argument, and left me somewhat worsted. I went to church by myself that evening, and I am ashamed to say I heard very little of the sermon. I knew Aunt Agatha would be taking advantage of my long absence to retail what she termed my preposterous scheme to Uncle Keith, and that I should have the benefit of his opinion on my return, and this thought made me restless.

I was not wrong in my surmise. Aunt Agatha looked a little pale and subdued, as though she had been shedding a few tears over my delinquencies, but Uncle Keith was simply inscrutable; when he chose, his face could present a perfect blank.

"Hir-rumph, my dear, what is this your aunt tells me, that you are going to Prince's Gate to-morrow morning to offer your services as nurse in a gentleman's family?"

"Yes, Uncle Keith."

"Do you mean to tell me seriously that you have really made up your mind to take this step?"

"Oh, I am quite serious, I assure you."

"Your aunt's objections and mine do not count for much, then?"

"I should be sorry to go against your wishes or Aunt Agatha's," I returned, trying to keep cool; but his manner, as usual, aggravated me; it said so plainly, "What a silly child you are, and yet you think yourself a woman," "but I must do as I think right in this matter. I hope to prove to you and everyone else that there is nothing derogatory in the work I mean to undertake. It is not what I would choose, perhaps, but everything else is closed to me," thinking sorrowfully of my life-long misfortune, as I always called it, and my repressed longings for hospital training.

"Perhaps if you waited something else might turn up." But I shook my head at this.

"I have waited too long already, Uncle Keith; idleness soon becomes a habit."

"Then if you have made up your mind, it is useless to try and alter it," returned Uncle Keith, in a slightly ironical tone, and he actually took up the volume he was reading in a way that showed he had dismissed the subject. I was never more astonished in my life; never had Uncle Keith so completely baffled me.

I had spent the whole time during which I ought to have been listening to the sermon, in recapitulating the heads of my arguments in favour of this very scheme; I would show Uncle Keith how clearly and logically I could work out the subject.

I had thought out quite an admirable little essay on feminine work in the nineteenth century by the time Mr. Wright had finished his discourse. I meant to have cited the Challoners as an example. Aunt Agatha had stayed in their neighbourhood of Oldfield just before her marriage, and had often paid visits at Longmead and Glen Cottage.

The eldest Miss Challoner--Nan, I think they called her--was just preparing for her own wedding, and Aunt Agatha often told me what a beautiful girl she was, and what a fine, intelligent creature the second sister Phillis seemed. She was engaged to a young clergyman at Hadleigh, and there had been some talk of a double wedding, only Nan's father-in-law, Mr. Mayne, of Longmead, had been rather cross at the notion, so Phillis's was to be postponed until the autumn.

All the neighbourhood of Oldfield had been ringing with the strange exploits of these young ladies. One little fact had leaked out after another; it was said their own cousin, Sir Henry Challoner, of Gilsbank, had betrayed the secret, though he always vowed his wife had a hand, or rather a tongue, in the business; but anyhow, there was a fine nine days' gossip over the matter.

It seemed that some time previously Mrs. Challoner and her three daughters had sustained severe losses, and the three girls, instead of losing courage, had put their shoulders to the wheel, and had actually set up as dressmakers at Hadleigh, carrying on their business in a most masterly fashion, until the unexpected return of their relative, Sir Harry Challoner, from Australia, with plenty of money at his disposal, broke up the dressmaking business, and reinstated them at Glen Cottage.

A few of their friends had been much offended with them, but as it was understood that Lady Fitzroy had spoken warmly of their moral courage and perseverance, it had become the fashion to praise them. Aunt Agatha had often quoted them to me, saying she had never met more charming girls, and adding more than once how thoroughly she respected their independence, and of course in recalling the Challoners I thought I should have added my crowning argument.

There was so much, too, that I longed to say in favour of my theory. The love of little children was very strong with me. I had often been pained as I walked through the streets at seeing tired children dragged along or shaken angrily by some coarse, uneducated nurse. It had always seemed rather a pitiful idea to me that children from their infancy should be in hourly contact with rough, menial natures. "Surely," I would say to myself, "the mother's place must be in her nursery; she can find no higher duty than this, to watch over her little ones; even if her position or rank hinder her constant supervision, why need she relegate her maternal duties to uneducated women? Are there no poor gentlewomen in the world who would gladly undertake such a work from very love, and who would refuse to believe for one moment they were losing caste in discharging one of the holiest and purest duties in life?

"What an advantage to the children," I imagined myself saying in answer to some objection on Uncle Keith's part, never dreaming that all this eloquence would be silenced by masculine cunning.

"What an advantage to these little creatures to hear English pure and undefiled from their cradles, and to be trained to habits of refinement and good manners by merely instinctively following the example before their eyes. Children are such copyists, one shudders to think of these impressionable little beings being permitted by their natural guardians to take their earliest lessons from some uneducated person.

"Women are crying out for work, Uncle Keith," I continued, carrying my warfare into a fresh quarter; but, alas! this, with the rest of my eloquence, died a natural death on my way home. "There are too many of the poor things in this world, and the female market is overstocked. They are invading telegraph offices, and treading on the heels of business men, but sheer pride and stupidity prevent them from trying to open nursery doors."

"Unladylike to be a servant," another imaginary objection on Uncle Keith's part. "Oh, fie, Uncle Keith! this from you, who read your Bible and go to church; and yet I remember a certain passage, 'Whosoever will be chief among you let him be your servant,' which has hallowed the very idea of service ever since.

"To serve others seems the very meaning of womanhood; in some sense, a woman serves all the days of her life. No, I am not farfetched and unpractical." Another supposed masculine tirade. "I have thought over the whole thing most carefully. I am not only working for myself, but for others. I want to open the eyes of my generation, and, like the Challoners, to lead a new crusade against the mighty sham of conventionality. Understand me, Uncle Keith, I do not say to these young gentlewomen, put your pride in your pocket and wheel your perambulator with the twins, or carry the baby into the park before the eyes of your aristocratic acquaintance; that would be unnecessary and foolish; you may leave that part to the under-nurse, who brings your meals and scours your nurseries; I simply say to them, if you have no capacity for teaching, if nature has unfitted you for other work, and you are too proud and conscientious to live a dragging, dependent life under the roof of some overburthened relative, take the charge of some aristocratic nursery. Do not think it beneath your womanhood to feed and wash and clothe an infant, or to watch over weak, toddling creatures. Your work may be humble, but you will grow to love it, and if no one else will put the theory to the test, I, Merle Fenton, will do so, though I must take the plunge unaided, and alone."

But all these feeling observations were locked up in my own inner consciousness, for during the remainder of the evening Uncle Keith simply ignored the subject and read his book with a pretence of being perfectly absorbed in it, though I am certain that his eyes twinkled mischievously whenever he looked in my direction, as though he were quite aware of my flood of repressed oratory.

I determined to have it out with Aunt Agatha, so I followed her into her room, and asked her in a peevish voice what she meant by saying Uncle Keith would be so angry with me, as he had not raised a single objection, and, of course, as silence meant consent, I should most certainly keep my appointment at Prince's Gate.

Aunt Agatha looked a little distressed as she answered me.

"To tell you the truth, Merle, I did not quite understand your uncle myself; I expected a very different reception of my news."

"Tell me all about it from the very beginning," I returned, eagerly. "Patience has made such a nice fire, because she said she was afraid you had a cold, and I can just sit by it and brush out my hair while we talk."

"But I am tired and sleepy, child, and after all there is not much to tell," objected Aunt Agatha; but she was far too good-natured to refuse for all that, so she seated herself, dear soul, in the big chair--that she had christened Idleness--and tried to remember what I wished to hear.

"I told him everything, Merle: how your one little defect hindered you, poor child, from being a nursery governess or companion, and how, in spite of this serious obstacle, you were determined to work and be independent."

"Well, and did he say nothing to all that?" I asked, for I knew in what a feeling manner Aunt Agatha would have described my difficulties.

"Oh, yes; he said, 'poor little thing,' in the kindest possible way, 'and quite right--very proper,' when I spoke of your desire for work."

"Well," rather impatiently.

"He listened very attentively until I read him out the advertisement, but that seemed to upset him, for he burst out laughing, and I thought he would never stop. I was half crying by that time, for you had worried me to death all the afternoon, Merle, but nothing I could say would make him grave for a long time. He said once, 'What could have put such a thing into her head?' and then he laughed again as though the idea amused him, and then he rubbed his hands and muttered, 'What an original child it is; there is no deficiency of brain power as far as I can see; who would have dreamt of such a thing?' and so on."

"Then I may flatter myself that Uncle Keith approves of my scheme," I observed, stiffly, for I was much offended at the idea of his laugh.

"Oh dear, no," returned Aunt Agatha, in an alarmed voice, "he expressed his disapproval very strongly; he said it was all very well in theory, and that, on the whole, he agreed with you that the nursery was undoubtedly a lady-like sphere, but he was far from sure that your scheme would be practical. He foresaw all kinds of difficulties, and that he did not consider you at all the person for such a position."

"Why did not Uncle Keith say all this to me himself?" I demanded.

"Because he said it would only be sowing the wind to raise the whirlwind. In an argument he declares women always have the best of it, because they can talk the fastest, and never will own they are beaten; to raise objections would only be to strengthen you more in your purpose. I think," finished Aunt Agatha, in her softest voice, "that he hoped your plan would die a natural death, for he recommended me to withdraw all opposition."

Oh, the cunning of these men. I would not have believed all this of Uncle Keith. I was far too angry to talk any more to Aunt Agatha; I only commanded my voice sufficiently to say that I fully intended to keep my appointment the next day; and as she only looked at me very sadly and said nothing, I had no excuse for lingering any longer, so I took up my candlestick and marched into my own room.

It felt cold and desolate, and as I sat down by the toilet table, such sad eyes looked into mine from the depths of the mirror, that a curious self-pitying feeling made me prop my chin on my hands and exchange looks of silent sympathy with my image.

My want of beauty never troubled me; it has always been my private conviction that we ought to be thankful if we are tolerably pleasant in other people's eyes; beauty is too rare a gift to be often reproduced. If people thought me nice-looking I was more than content; perhaps it was surprising that, with such good-looking parents, I was just ordinary and nothing else, "But never mind, Merle, you have a good figure and talking eyes," as Aunt Agatha once said to me. "I was much plainer at your age, my dear, but my plainness never prevented me from having a happy life and a good husband."

"Well, perhaps I should like a happy life, too, but as for the husband--never dream of that, my good girl; remember your miserable deficiency in this enlightened age. No man in his senses would condone that; put such thoughts resolutely away and think only of your work in life. _Laborare est orare._"

(_To be continued._)

THE CONTENTS OF MY WORK-BOX.

HOW BUTTONS ARE MADE.

It is scarcely possible to determine when buttons, which are both useful and ornamental, were first made. In the paintings of the fourteenth century they frequently appear on the garments of both sexes, but in many instances they are drawn without button-holes, and are placed in such situations as to suggest that at that time they were used more for ornament than usefulness.

It was towards the close of the sixteenth century that button-making was first considered a business, and that the manufacturers formed a considerable body.

Button-making was originally a very tedious and expensive process. The button consisted of one solid piece of metal; the ornaments on the face of it were the work of an engraver. To obviate the expense connected with such a method of production, the press, stamp, and engine for turning the moulds were introduced. This improvement led the way for other improvements, both with regard to the materials from which buttons were afterwards made and also the process of manufacture. The plain gilt button, which was extensively used in the early part of the present century, was made from an alloy called plating metal, which contained a larger proportion of copper and less zinc than ordinary brass. The devices on the outer surface were produced by stamping the previously cut out blanks or metal discs with steel dies, after which the necks were soldered in. At the present time every possible kind of metal, from iron to gold, whether pure or mixed; every conceivable woven fabric, from canvas to the finest satin and velvet; every natural production capable of being turned out or pressed, as wood, horn, hoof, pearl, bone, ivory, jet, ivory nuts; every manufactured material of which the same may be said, as caoutchouc, leather, papier maché, glass, porcelain, etc., buttons are made in a great variety of shape; but at the present time they may be classed under four heads: buttons with shanks, buttons without shanks, buttons on rings or wire moulds, and buttons covered with cloth or some other material.

In the process of metal button-making by means of fly presses and punches, circular discs, called blanks, are cut out of sheets of metal. This work is usually done by females, who, while seated at a bench, manage to cut out as many as thirty blanks per minute, or twelve gross in an hour. On leaving the press the edges of the blanks are very sharp. When they have been smoothed and rounded, the surfaces are planished on the face by being placed separately in a die, under a small stamp, and causing them to receive a sharp blow from a polished steel hammer. The next process is that of shanking, or attaching small metal loops, by which they are fastened to garments. The shank manufacture is a distinct branch of the trade in Birmingham, although at times carried on in the same factory.

The shanks are made by a machine, in which a coil of wire is gradually advanced towards a pair of shears, which cut off short pieces. A metal finger then presses against the middle of each piece, first bending it and then pressing it into a vice, where it is compressed so as to form a loop; a hammer then strikes the two ends, spreading them into a flat surface, and the shank is pushed out of the machine ready for use. The shanks in some instances are attached to the blanks by women with iron wire, solder, and resin, after which they are placed in an oven, and when firmly united are removed and form plain buttons. In the majority of cases, however, soldering is dispensed with, the shanks being made secure in the press.

If the button is to be finished without a shank, it is passed on from the press, which it leaves as a blank, to another where the holes are pierced, and then to a third where the roughness is removed from the edges of the holes.

The commonest metal buttons which I have seen in process of making were cut out of scraps of tin, similar to what may be seen on the refuse heap of any shop where tin goods are made. The hand presses worked by women cut out the blanks, made a simple impression on the outside, and turned up the edges all round at the same time. The blanks were then passed on to another press, where pieces of cardboard were inserted, and the edges turned over to keep them firm. The holes were next pierced, and a finish given by a blow from a stamp.

I felt deeply interested in seeing all kinds of buttons in process of being made, some for India, others for Chili, and our own army, but the prettiest and most interesting to witness while passing through the presses, stamps, and hands of the workers were some which were being made for Malta. In passing through the first press the blank was embossed and cut out. By another press the edge was scalloped, and by a third press the open work was effected. The next process was that of so pressing each disc to such an extent that the scalloped edges of two might meet, and thus form a round button of pretty design when united, and a shank fastened in the centre of one of the blanks.

Military buttons, like many others, are made of two discs of metal, the impression on the outer ones being produced by a sharp blow in a stamp, the under ones having two holes pierced in them for the shanks, which are put through and bent flat on the inside. They are next passed through another press which firmly fastens the two discs together, and holds the shank so securely as to obviate the necessity of having recourse to soldering.

Covered buttons are made in an immense variety of textiles. It is impossible in the space allowed for this paper to enumerate them, but I may add that their ingenious construction, their good wearing qualities, the clever mechanism of the tools by which the various discs of cloth, metal, millboard, etc., are cut out, and the methods of uniting them so as to form a complete button, are marvels of skill and industry.

The earliest covered buttons were made so recently as the year 1802, in Birmingham, by Mr. B. Sanders. Those buttons had metal shanks, but by the ingenuity of Mr. Sanders, jun., his father's invention was completed by tufts of canvas, through which the buttons could be attached to garments, being substituted for rigid metal shanks. The only improvement since made has been that of covering the back of the silk-fronted buttons also with silk.

A covered button consists of two discs of metal and one of millboard, thicker or thinner, according to circumstances. In making it, the sheet of iron is first scaled, by the use of powerful acids, and then cut into proper size and shape by a press. The neck, or collet, of the button is japanned after being stamped and cut. The hollow between the neck and shell is filled with millboard. When the parts are put together and pressed the button is brought into shape, and its several parts are consolidated.

It was in the year 1841 that Mr. John Aston made the first three-fold linen button--that is, a button formed of a linen covering and a ring of metal, so put together that both sides and centre were completely covered with separate pieces of linen, and thus produced being quite flat. This being an exceedingly neat and convenient button, it became largely patronised, as it still is by housewives, for all underclothing, having superseded the old thread button formed of a ring of wire, with threads drawn over it and gathered in the centre. A slight improvement was made by Mr. Elliott. During the time that the patent lasted these two gentlemen worked in concert, and established a very successful business.

So great has been the demand for covered linen buttons at different times, that during one single year Mr. Elliott's successors have in the process of making them required 63,000 yards of cloth and 34 tons of metal, and given employment to 250 persons. As the button trade has for a considerable time been in a very depressed condition, it is possible that the productions of this firm may not be of such magnitude as they were a few years since.

With regard to the depressed condition of this branch of Birmingham industries, one manufacturer assured me, only a few weeks ago, that where 150 persons were employed at one time, not more than 20 or 30 would be working then. In visiting one of the largest manufactories the same day, I saw sufficient to convince me of the truthfulness of his statement, for in passing through the different workshops I saw one or two presses, stamps, and turning-lathes at work, whereas several were unused and without attendants. One firm, when trade is in a flourishing condition, will make about 15,000 gross of linen buttons weekly. Ivory buttons are made from the tusks of elephants; but as the material is expensive, and the manipulation has to be conducted with great care, and that chiefly by hand, they can only be used by persons who can afford to pay a goodly sum.

During the last few years, in which a great variety of colours has been introduced, both for ladies' and gentlemen's garments, and buttons have been required to match, it is fortunate that a substitute has been found for ivory in the kernel of the "corozo" nut. This nut grows in clusters on palm-like trees in South America, and is husked like a cocoanut, but is different in shape and considerably smaller in dimensions. The kernel--the part used in button-making--is milk-white, and being softer than animal ivory, is more easily turned, and as it readily absorbs dyes, it can be made to take any colour with little trouble.

The process of making these vegetable ivory buttons is as follows:--After boys have cracked the shells, the kernels are taken by men standing at benches in which small fine-toothed saws are revolving. Only a slight pressure of the nut against the saw is required before it is divided into equal parts. If necessary, the operation is repeated. Providing, however, that the pieces of the nut are of proper dimensions, they are passed on to the turner.

The next process is that of cutting out or turning, and is performed in the following manner:--The turner, after fixing a piece of the nut in the chuck of his lathe, brings a tubular cutter, the face edge of which is toothed like a saw, to work on the exposed front surface of the nut; the result is that of a rough button or mould. As these moulds are rough, they are passed on to another lathe, where they are made smooth, and then to a third, where the holes are drilled. They are next passed on to the dyer, who arranges his colours according to instructions received. It sometimes happens that a mottled appearance is required; when such is the case, girls are employed to touch them with the colours required by the aid of camel-hair pencils. The buttons are next placed in tanks for drying, the tanks being heated by steam for that purpose.

Most of the buttons are polished in lathes by friction from their own dust, held in the hand of the operative.

Porcelain buttons were invented by Mr. R. Prosser, of Birmingham, who, in conjunction with the celebrated firm of Minter and Co., made them in large quantities in the potteries, about the year 1840. They were, however, soon driven from the market by French manufacturers, who sold a great gross--that is, twelve gross, each of twelve dozen--for the ridiculously small sum of elevenpence.

Glass buttons are made by heating canes of glass and pinching them from the end with pliers, which at the same time answer the purpose of a die. They are sold very cheaply, as low as twopence a gross, but it is scarcely possible for any English firm to compete with Bohemia in their production.

Mother-o'-pearl buttons are made out of pearl shells which have been imported from the coasts of Macassar, Manilla, Bombay, the archipelago of the Pacific, the Bay of Panama, and a few other places. Their market value is not always the same. At the present time it ranges from £8 to £10 per hundredweight. The blanks are cut out of the shells by a steel tubular cutter, similar to that used in cutting the vegetable ivory. As the cutter works its way through a shell, small cylinders of pearl are disconnected, which are reduced in thickness by splitting into discs, a little thicker than the button is required to be when finished. These blanks are finished singly in a turning lathe, by being placed in a suitable chuck, and having a steel tool applied to its face for producing the rim and depression in the centre. They are then passed on to another lathe, where the holes are drilled, and afterwards to another, where they are polished by friction and a mixture of rotten-stone and soft soap.

The best white buttons are those which are made from Macassar shells, and the best black from shells of the archipelago of the Pacific. The latter are the dearest, in consequence of the black shells not being so plentiful as those of lighter shades. Some few years since the consumption of mother-o'-pearl shells in Birmingham amounted to nearly one thousand tons annually; the failure of the fisheries in Central America has, however, reduced it to a little more than a third, or about three hundred tons a year.

Thimbles are made by stamping, and afterwards turning in a lathe, the indentations being produced by a suitable instrument. On the Continent the operatives make them with punches in as many as five different mandrils. Scissors, bodkins, etc., have nothing connected with their manufacture which calls for any special notice. Although, as in previous papers, I have conducted my readers in paths not usual to girls and young women, I hope that my description of button-making will interest a considerable number, and teach them to think more of buttons and how they are made and by whom made than they have ever done before.

W. W. B.

BITS ABOUT ANIMALS.

A SAGACIOUS COLT.

A gentleman whose pretty garden adjoined a park in which a number of young colts were grazing, was much annoyed by the inroads of these animals. He took every precaution to prevent their entrance, but to no purpose. Fences were examined and found intact, the gate was kept shut, and yet one or more of the colts would soon be found devastating flower-beds, or browsing in the kitchen garden. The provoking part of it was that no one could discover how the creatures obtained an entrance.

At length men were hidden in the trees to watch, and the problem was speedily solved. A colt trotted up to the gate and inserted its head between the bars, with the evident intention of raising the latch. He made several vain attempts, but had not mastered the trick. The latch remained in its place, and the colt outside.

For a few moments the animal stood cogitating, then trotted rapidly back to the spot where he had left his companions. He singled out one of the most frequent visitors to the garden, and, by some language peculiar to colts, made known his difficulty. The other at once returned with his companion to the gate, inserted his head below one of the bars, and by a dexterous movement displaced the latch, and the gate swung open. Then, throwing back his head as if to say, "See how easy it is when one knows how," he went back whilst the other entered the garden.

It was noticed by the watchers that this last had not previously been seen within the forbidden precincts, but the one that opened the gate for him had been particularly troublesome. The fact that he was specially selected for the office of porter showed no little sagacity in the would-be visitor to the garden. But, much as the cleverness of the animals might be admired, care was taken to render its exercise useless for the future.

RUTH LAMB.

VARIETIES

A FRENCH CONVERSATION.

Voltaire once said, "It is not clear, therefore it cannot be French." This is only partially true, for the French language furnishes abundant material for puns and misunderstandings, intentional or otherwise. The following amusing instance may serve as an illustration:--

Two sportsmen met together on their way home.

"Where do you come from?" the first asked the second, who was trembling with fright.

"I come--I come--from the forest of Bondy."

"And why are you so excited?"

"I have been attacked by robbers."

"How many were there?"

"_Sept._"

"What did you say?"

"_Je dis sept._"

"_Dix-sept?_"

"No; _sans dix_."

"_Cent dix?_"

"Oh, dear! no. _Sans dix, sept._"

"Good gracious! _Cent dix-sept?_"

"Nonsense. _Sept sans dix-sept._"

"_Sept cent dix-sept._"

"You don't understand me. _Je te dis sept sans dix!_"

"_Dix-sept cent dix._"

"You will drive me mad! _Je te dis sept sans dix-sept!_"

"_Dix-sept cent dix-sept!_ I can understand your being frightened with such a number."

TO PRESERVE CUT FLOWERS.--An important rule in preserving cut flowers is never to cram the vase with flowers. Many will last if only they have a large mass of water in the vase and not too many stalks to feed on the water and pollute it. Vases that can hold a large quantity of water are to be preferred to the spindle-shaped trumpets that are often used. Flat dishes covered with wet sand are also useful for short-stalked or heavy-headed flowers; even partially-withered blooms will revive when placed on this cool moist substance. Moss, though prettier than sand, is to be avoided, as it soon smells disagreeably, and always interferes with the scent of the flowers placed in it for preservation.

THE WAY OF THE WORLD.--The world deals good-naturedly with good-natured people, and I never knew a sulky misanthropist who quarrelled with it but it was he and not it that was in the wrong.--_Thackeray._

MOTHERS' THOUGHTS.

To a goose one day a gosling came. As she surveyed it duly, She said, "No swan in all the world Is half so pretty, truly."

In words like these all mothers' thoughts This wise old goose expressed; For of all babies in the world, Each thinks her own the best.

UNGRATEFUL GRATITUDE.--There are minds so impatient of inferiority that their gratitude is a species of revenge, and they return benefits not because recompense is a pleasure, but because obligation is a pain.--_Dr. Johnson._

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

Dissatisfied with their appointed lot, These both aspir'd to seem what they were not; Foil'd in their schemes, they recognis'd, too late, The folly of attempts to shake the state. The first became, t' avoid a harsher doom, A menial, baser than the lowest groom; The second paid a far more heavy tax; Tried and condemn'd, he perished by the axe.

1. So fair and flatt'ring, and so bright of hue, Will it betray us? or will it be true?

2. Friend of two great philosophers, this youth Boasted himself yet more, the friend of truth. Throughout a long career he strove to scan The wondrous working of great Nature's plan, And taught his pupils, strolling at their ease, 'Neath pleasant shelter of umbrageous trees.

3. The glorious witness to the living faith, In tortures passing unto life through death.

4. How many bow'd their heads to meet this thing! Priest, warrior, noble, princess, e'en a king.

5. The good old man, whose tender, loving heart, Unfitted him to act the sterner part Of curbing his rebellious children's will; His mild reproof they disregarded, till There fell the doom that had been prophesied, And in one day the sons and father died.

6. Oft melted and then pour'd into a mould, Translucent and inodorous when cold, Useful, abundant, and of little cost, Mis-spelt, miscall'd by those who use me most.

7. A butcher's son, who rose to eminence In legal circles by his clear good sense; For public service he was made a peer, And held the woolsack twice for many a year.

8. The Roman youth, to prove his hardihood, Thrust his right hand into the fire that stood Before the king; shrivel'd his hand remained, And he this surname by that act obtain'd.

9. A bird of Africa, that shows the way To where wild bees their stores of honey lay; Then perch'd aloft, content t' await his share Of honey which the hunters leave him there.

10. The elder daughter, offer'd as a bride To him who foes successfully defied. With conquest flush'd, the low-born victor came, The fair princess's promis'd hand to claim, But only came to disappointment; since She had already wed a pow'rful prince.

11. A jutting cape, which, when the Northmen spied, A fanciful resemblance they descried To human features; so they gave a name To mark that cape, and still it bears the same.

12. How do you call that line, which, year by year, Traces the sun's course round the pictur'd sphere?

13. In Scandinavian fables I am nam'd "Destroyer," and as evil genius fam'd; Interpolate one letter, and 'tis strange That I become preserver by the change.

XIMENA.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

EDUCATIONAL.

EDISCENDA.--The highest mountain known has been found in New Guinea, and is called Mount Hercules. It is said to be 32,786 feet high, or 3,786 feet higher than Mount Everest, of the Himalayan Range.

VIOLET.--The best examination to pass would be either the Oxford or Cambridge; but if you do not wish to do so much, that of the College of Preceptors would perhaps be sufficient for your purpose.

A LONELY GIRL.--We think there is too much science and too little history and literature in your list of books, and we should recommend a course of poetry also, as well as some works on art.

A, B, C, D, ETC.--In the chronicles of Robert of Gloucester the age of Brutus is purely legendary. The whole chronicle is partly taken from the fabulous history of Geoffrey of Monmouth.

DORA (Bradford).--"How to Form a Small Library" was at page 7 and 122, vol. ii. Clean your hair-brushes with flour or bran, rubbing them well together with it as if you were washing them dry. You should write copies daily to improve your handwriting.

A. and M.--We are inclined to believe that governesses are not in demand anywhere in the colonies unless they be willing to turn their hands to help in the household, just as a daughter of the house might do. If you and your sister be willing to do this, and are both capable and industrious, you might do well in Queensland. Write to the secretary of the Woman's Emigration Society, New Buildings, Carteret-street, Queen Anne's-gate, London, S.W.

E. C. G.--We believe you can obtain grammars and dictionaries in most of the Eastern tongues at Messrs. Trübner's, Ludgate-hill, E.C. We cannot say what progress you would make without a master, as we do not know your capabilities.

MACAW.--We have great pleasure in giving the address of the correspondence class from which you have derived so much advantage, and which you sought through our advice. Miss MacArthur, 4, Buckingham-street, Hillhead, Glasgow. So well managed, as it appears to be from your account, we hope our notice may prove of much use to our readers.

MISS MACKAY.--We thank you for the particulars which you send us of your essay club, called The Rookery, and willingly give your invitation to our readers to join it. There is no charge made for these answers to correspondents. We are glad to give help and promote all useful efforts, and believe we shall do so by giving your address as Hon. Secretary, Governor's House, H.M. Prison, Lincoln.

LEONA WOODFIELD.--Candidates for hospital training are generally required to be from twenty-five to forty years of age. They may enter the Children's Hospital, Great Ormond-street, at twenty-one.

UNION JACK.--The English language is a compound of three different dialects spoken for two or three centuries after the Norman Conquest. That of the East Midland was the speech of the metropolis, in which Chaucer, Gower, and Wyckliffe wrote, and was spoken in East Kent and Surrey. There were also the Northern and Southern dialects, which, blending with the East Midland, formed the basis of modern English. But these three dialects are likewise compounds of the Saxon, Celtic, Danish, and Norman tongues. To get rid of the smell of paint, sprinkle some hay with chloride of lime and leave it in the rooms; also a basin of water, to be changed night and morning. You will perceive traces on the surface of what it has absorbed.

T. C. S.--Why do you not read our answers under this heading? You will find that there are several societies for training female missionaries and catechists.

MARY COMMANDER.--Astronomers measure the distances between the earth and the stars by means of mathematical calculations. You should procure some work on astronomy. There is a nice little book published in our office called "The Heavens and the Earth," and another, rather larger, called "The Midnight Sky;" both are illustrated.

MARY WILLIAMS.--If you refer to any volume of the G. O. P. and read our answers under the above heading, you will see all we can tell you about telegraph clerks. We must decline to full up space by continually repeating old answers.

WHITE TULIP must do as we have directed "Mary Williams," and find all the addresses of societies where young women are trained for zenana and other missionary work. It is very wrong not to go to church on Sunday mornings merely because of "feeling shy." That is rubbish. Attend to your book and your prayers, and not to your neighbours. Nobody will notice you.

I. D. L. E.--Write to the secretary, Deaconesses' Training Institution, 41, Ferntower-road, Mildmay Park, London, N., and at The Willows, Stoke Newington, N. Otherwise, if you desire experience in parish work, you might be received at St. Luke's Invalid Home, Finsbury House, Ramsgate. You had better write to both these institutions, giving your age, and stating whether your application be made with the full consent of your parents. There are also the London Diocesan Deaconesses' Institution, 12, Tavistock Crescent, Westbourne Park, W. (head sister, Deaconess Cassin), and the East London Deaconesses' Home, 2, Sutton-place, Hackney, E. (deaconess, L. Collier). If you would prefer a situation by the sea, apply to Sister Emma, Winchester Diocesan Deaconesses' Home, Southsea, Hants.

JOSEPHINE.--There is a Governesses' Institute in Paris, at 48, Rue de Chaillot. Apply to the secretary or lady principal. If you wish to belong to a teacher's guild, that of Great Britain and Ireland has its office at 17, Buckingham-street, Strand, W.C. You must address the hon. secretary. You write a very good hand.

BERTHA GREEN and DAISY.--The cheapest and best way for you to improve your education at home will be to join one or more of the amateur societies instituted to assist girls who cannot go to school nor have professional masters. A small directory of girls' educational and other societies and clubs is to appear immediately, edited by one of our own staff of writers, especially for the use of our girls, so many of whom write for the addresses of such and particulars about them. (Messrs. Griffith and Farran, St. Paul's Churchyard, E.C.)

A POOR YOUNG GIRL.--So well educated as you are, you would be likely to get on well in a colony. Write to the Colonial Emigration Society, 13, Dorset-street, Portman-square, London, W. They have a home for women and a loan fund. Anyone willing to act as mother's help, and put her hand to anything her employer does, and is, moreover, capable of teaching the young people of the family, would be sure to get on well in a colony.

NELLY HOLMES should advertise in the _Times_, or some good daily paper, for the situation she requires. We cannot tell what salary a young girl in her teens would get.

ART.

C. O.--Our opinion of the drawing is not favourable. The outlines of the figure are not true to nature in its undistorted form; they are those conceived by an uninstructed dress or stay maker. As you are only thirteen years of age, you are not yet acquainted with pure classical forms of beauty, and have time to cultivate your taste. Take lessons at a branch figure-drawing school founded by the South Kensington School of Art. The kind of drawing to which you aspire is much improved of late years, and shopkeepers begin to require that fashion-plates should somewhat resemble the true "human form divine."

INDUSTRY and KATIE.--To preserve seaweed, gather specimens that are growing to rocks in preference to those floating on the water, and lay them in a shallow pan filled with clean salt water. Insert a piece of writing-paper under the seaweed and lift it out of the bath; spread out the plant with a camel's-hair pencil in a natural form, and slant the paper to allow the water to run off; then press between two pieces of board, lay on one of them two sheets of blotting-paper, then the seaweed, and over the latter a piece of fine cambric, over that the blotting-paper, and lastly the second piece of board; replace the cambric and blotting-paper daily, and when the seaweed is quite dry brush over the coarser kinds with spirits of turpentine, in which three small lumps of gum-mastic have been dissolved by shaking in a warm place. Two-thirds of a small phial is the proper proportion. This mixture helps to retain the colour of the specimens.

ELLA and HELIOTROPE.--Painting carefully with muriatic acid will remove the rough coating outside shells and show the mother o' pearl beneath it. They should be frequently dipped in water to remove the burning acid, or it will make holes in the shell. To polish them, dip a rag in hydrochloric acid and rub till clean; then dry in hot sawdust and polish with chamois leather. To paint shells with oil-colours, mix the latter with Siccatif de Courtrai, or with mirrorine, and put on the paints very dry. To paint them with water colours, lay a wash of white of egg over them; mix the paints with Chinese white and white of egg. The best effects are produced with oil colours.

DAISY.--We make no distinction between persons who write to us, whether in service or out of it. We have an enormous correspondence, and very little space is devoted to it. Thus, many correspondents have to wait long for their answers. A good cashmere would suit very well for a wedding dress. Get one that will be of service to you afterwards. If you live in London it should not be very light. Your bonnet could be trimmed with white ribbon.

CHRISTIE.--Try laying on a wash of white of egg before painting in water-colours upon black cardboard. This will remove the greasiness of the surface. Then lay on a wash of Chinese white, and paint in the ordinary manner.

MISCELLANEOUS.

FINANCIER.--We consider that to wash with hot water is not bad for you, but should be supplemented by a good rubbing (performed very quickly) with a wet towel all over the body. This will cause a healthy reaction. But the morning is really the best time. "Sesame and Lilies" and "Stones of Venice" are good books to read (of Ruskin's). There is a "Dictionary of English Literature," published by Cassell and Co., which might be useful to you.

MEMORY.--We hear that many people have derived much benefit from the memory systems, and "Stokes on Memory" is a well-known book.

L. NUSSE.--We fear that all such things are only forms of throwing good money after bad. If you really have reason to think that you are entitled to money, go to a respectable lawyer for help.

B. K. E.--No one can limit the power of prayer and faith, and yours may be answered as your heart desires. But do not "do evil that good may come."

OL SIE.--Your verses show much poetic feeling, and an affectionate nature, but you would need to study the subject of composition before your lines were worth anything to anyone.

MONTHLY READER and MAY.--The sooner you get your teeth stopped the better. But make a good choice of a dentist.

A. M. C.--The salaries in drapers' shops vary much, not only in different establishments, but amongst the assistants in each, according to their special departments. Girls with tall, handsome figures, employed for showing off mantles, get more than little girls behind the counter, and dress and mantle, or bonnet and cap makers are comparatively well paid. You must make special personal application.

AN ARUM LILY.--Use a rosemary wash for aiding the growth of the hair. See our articles on the care of the hair, page 631, vol. vi.

ROSINA.--The young men who so far forgot themselves and presumed to speak to you and your friend without a proper introduction, are not suitable acquaintances for respectable girls. But you should not have been rude; you should simply have walked away to your chaperon, or some married person of your acquaintance.

LACK PENNY might, perhaps, teach a few little girls at home. Has she any friends who would be glad to send them to her, instead of to a school, for a couple of hours in the morning, when busy themselves? There is nothing to be ashamed of in earning money, if you have it not, for your requirements.

FLOO.--You slope your letters the wrong way, and we could scarcely read your writing. If you want to improve it, slope it the right way, and cross every "t." We do not know how the mother o' pearl became stained. Probably it was washed in hot water, and so cracked all over. You might try a quick brush over with diluted muriatic acid, and an immediate dip into cold water, then rubbing well with some sweet oil on a soft piece of flannel. Beware of touching your eyes after using muriatic acid, as it burns, and should be put carefully away, that ignorant people or children may not touch it.

E. M. P.--Perhaps your dogs are mangy. In any case you should show them to a veterinary surgeon. Consult our indexes.

ANXIOUS ONE.--Your duty is very plain. Go to your clergyman, and tell him of the discovery you have made, and ask him to baptise you at once. If your name were sent in for confirmation after your course of preparation, you are, of course, ready for your baptism.

TIM TIPPIN should study the art of metrical composition. What she has written is very irregular and incorrect. But even were it perfectly according to rule, there is no new thought in it, no beautiful simile, nothing original. She is very young, and therefore could by no means be expected to produce what a powerful or imaginative intellect alone could produce, when arrived at its full development at some ten or twelve years later in life. So she must learn a good deal more before she can "become famous."

EDITH.--We are unable to find employment and name employers for our correspondents, much as we sympathise with them in their desire to be self-supporting.

URSULA.--We do not answer seven questions. Bride and bridegroom sit side by side at the top of the table, the two fathers take in the two mothers, and first bridesmaid and best man pair together.

I. NIBS.--You would be much wiser to try and get your story as a serial into one of the papers in your own colony. We could not promise to take unknown MS., and unless you copied it you might lose it in passing through the post.

A MARCH ELF should wear her hair in a plait at the back, tied up with a bow of ribbon, and curled a little in front. She is too young to need steels in her dresses.

E. C.--The frontispiece appears to tell its own story of poverty and weakness--a poor dressmaker, unable to finish a dress by a given time. Water may be softened by using borax, ammonia, or oatmeal, when needed for the skin. Boiling water and soda will generally take out stains from table linen.

JESSIE.--We know nothing more about the water scheme than the newspaper report, which "Jessie" has herself seen.

SAFFRON CROCUS.--Read our article on "Lissom Hands and Pretty Feet," vol. i., page 348.

ETHEL.--Pincushions and fans, embroidered and ornamented in various ways, seem the most general contributions at bazaars at present. Painted match-boxes, writing-cases, and painted jars for tobacco, are all useful and sell well.

GRETCHEN.--There is a small volume on "Indian Outfits" published by Mr. Gill, 170, Strand, which is very valuable.

EDINBURGH.--We could not give you the addresses of persons who would buy your work, and a little consideration would have prevented your asking such a question. Your own personal exertions must be used to find outlets for your work. You cannot expect to sit still and be helped.

AYACANORA II. does not say whether the mauve silk be light or dark. Mauve is now a very fashionable colour, and would mix well with dark velvet or velveteen of the same colour for the autumn. It would also look well with cashmere or canvas of the same colour, but of a darker shade. Dark red velvet could also be mixed with it. If the bodice be good, make a Swiss belt, with cuffs and collar of velvet, and long front and back drapery of the same.

FURRIER'S DAUGHTER.--More furs are made up in England than anywhere else, and, as a fur sewer, you will do better here, we should think. But as you want to emigrate, you should consult the Colonial Emigration Society, 13, Dorset-street, Portman-square, W.; office hours, 10 to 4. The secretary will give advice and information.

MABEL has our best thanks for her kind and courteous note.

VERONIQUE.--"That Aggravating Schoolgirl" began in vol. ii., at page 9.

MARIE.--Do not wash your head every morning. The bath water should be tepid. A sponge bath can be taken with very little water and little trouble.

ETHILD MYA BAL.--There is no sequel to the "Wide, Wide World," that we know of. We are very sorry to hear of your suffering, and hope you may soon be better.

A GIPSY GIRL.--The lines you send are not poetry, nor are they very original in thought; but if it be a comfort for you to write them, they have served a good purpose.

CUCUMBER.--We know of no cure but the constant use of a pair of tweezers.

AN OLD ANGLO-GERMAN GIRL.--We were much interested in your letter. We can sympathise with all our girls, at every age, and in every climate. The series will be concluded soon.

FAIRY DELL (Cyprus).--You would have to apply to a surgeon. Gargle the throat night and morning with salt and water, or vinegar and water, to strengthen it. Perhaps you need a tonic.

SNOWBELL.--The book is not of any great value; but if you be not satisfied, you might consult some first-class bookseller, such as Mr. Quaritch, Piccadilly.

AMY.--There is a Home for Governesses in the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, Paris, of which Miss Pryde is the superintendent. Address her at 22, Rue des Acacias, Avenue de la Grande Armée.

DOLORES.--There are no stated times for giving competitions in our paper--which you call "compesition classes." They involve great additional trouble and the monopoly of time to an extent of which our young readers have little idea. Imagine the labour of reading through about 4,000 contributions, comparing all together, and judging between them! Of course, such an undertaking can only be volunteered once in a way, or the daily work of the magazine could not be carried on. Your handwriting is not yet formed, but promises well.

OURANG-OUTANG and GORILLA.--Have nothing to do with the appliance called "Planchette." It is employed in divination, or what is akin to it. We do not undertake to supply "characters from handwriting." There are many people who advertise to do so for thirteenpence.