PART III.

I left off last time in rather an abrupt fashion: but possibly the unfinished condition of my article may—on the principle of serial stories, which always exhibit a certain unexpectedness and incompleteness in their instalments—have given my readers an appetite, so that, like Oliver Twist, they are “ready for more.” I will therefore now proceed to explain what was meant by the “other thing” spoken of at the end of my paper.

It had reference to what is often felt to be a difficulty with regard to country house visiting, and consists in not knowing how long to stay. When, as sometimes happens, the duration of the visit is settled and plainly mentioned beforehand, it is a real comfort; for if you are invited for a week, or from such a day to such a day, the dates being given, there is no room for doubt: you know exactly what is expected of you and can make plans to suit. But when the invitation is vague as to its ending, though explicit as to its beginning, and you are asked to “come on the 8th and stay with us; we shall have a few cheery people,” it is hard to say for certain whether the traditional three days, “press day, dress day, and rest day,” as the line runs—though for my part I fail to see where the “rest” day comes in—are intended to cover the time of your visit or whether a week is meant. At all events it is always better to be too short than too long as regards time when others are concerned besides yourself. A prolix, long-winded individual is invariably fled from when he begins to speak, and anybody who gets a reputation for outstaying his or her welcome is not likely to be asked much anywhere. It would be terrible to be known as “that woman who can never be got rid of when she once comes.” Far better is it to arrange for a short visit, and then, should your hostess really wish you to pay a longer one, she can say so and try to persuade you to alter your plans on her behalf. But, unless it is quite clear that your company is still desired, it is wise to keep to your original intention, because sometimes politeness, carried perhaps rather beyond what is necessary, may be misunderstood, as really occurred on one occasion when some people who had paid an unreasonably long visit were leaving the house at last, to the relief of their entertainers. An unlucky impulse prompted the hostess to say, “Good-bye, must you really go?” Whereupon, to her dismay, the departing guests turned with a smile and said, “Oh no, we are not really obliged to go just yet,” and they actually stayed. Here again we may take counsel of the wisest of Books which says, “Remove thy foot from thy neighbour’s house lest he grow weary and hate thee.”

While on this subject it may be well to remark that the same rule applies to all visits, even what are called “morning” visits—calls made because they must be made more than with the idea of any pleasure to be evolved therefrom. The temptation to remain too long in such cases is, of course, not great, but it does not follow necessarily that the visitor goes just when she ought. Shyness, a sort of difficulty in finding the right moment in which to get up and say good-bye, perhaps sometimes a feeling that you have seemed stupid and dull, and that you must try and sparkle somewhat before you go, to take away the bad impression given of your abilities; all sorts of little under-currents common to human nature seem at times to hamper people and make them do _gauche_ things, among them being that of sitting on when they ought to leave.

Even if you are with a friend, not an ordinary acquaintance, and have lunched with her, it is better to make a move to depart soon after; for although you may have nothing particular to do that day, she may have, and in London especially there is such a pressure of things which must be got through somehow that few of us can afford to let our afternoon slip away, and with it the chance of seeing such a person, going to such a shop, writing important letters, etc., etc.

Now I will return to the country house, to make a few observations, this time not to the visitors, but to the visited; and, as I have all through my articles tried to make it clear that I do not address myself to people who live in luxury, I wish to repeat that fact, and to say that I have not “in my mind’s eye” a magnificent castle with everything to match, but a house on a modest scale and establishment ditto.

You, inhabiting a nice, comfortable abode of the kind, have bidden some guests to come and stay; perhaps for an “At Home” in the neighbourhood, perhaps with no special object in view; but the country is pretty, they can walk or “bike,” and there is the pony-carriage and possibly a dog-cart, useful for men in the shooting-season.

Well, first I hope you have not asked too many, for, except in the case of very young girls who have scarcely been out anywhere, and to whom a gathering means Elysium, never mind what inconveniences in the shape of an over full house—sofas to sleep upon and hardly room to dress in—are attached to it, nobody likes discomfort, and cramming ten people in where there is only space for eight, or less, does not conduce to comfort. Besides, too many guests means too few servants for the unwonted crowd, and consequently work has to be hurried through and, in artistic parlance, “scamped.”

Then you have dust not only lurking in corners but coming boldly forth to view on carpets and furniture, glass and china dull and knives ditto, flowers drooping, half-dead for want of water; in fact a complete absence of those details which spell first cleanliness and then charm in a house, and, taking them as a whole, make the difference between enjoyment of daily life and the mere endurance of it for the sake of some brilliant hours in prospect.

It is the business of a hostess to see that her staff of servants is equal to the demands made upon it, and then to exact thoroughness in the work done; outside which there remain many small matters for her personal attention, such as putting writing materials in the bedrooms, cards on which are printed the hours for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and the arrival and departure of the post; and if in addition to this a time-table of trains to and from London is annexed, it will be found of great value in sparing somebody the headache which so often accompanies a prolonged study of Bradshaw. A few books also, suited to the tastes of whoever is to occupy the room, should always be left on a shelf or table. They look comfortable and are generally appreciated.

The mistress of a house must of course show a pleasant countenance of welcome to her visitors, and should be quick to notice little signs of fatigue in the elders, contriving to spare them too much talking when they ought to be resting, without at all suggesting that repose was needful because they are not quite as young as they were, a thing which nobody likes to believe patent to an ordinary observer. With the younger members of the party she must be as bright and “full of life” as her physical and mental constitution will allow; ready to make plans for amusement, and as far as circumstances admit, arrange them to suit the different dispositions of her guests; not forcing the naturally inactive ones to join in outdoor games, scramble through woods, or take part in picnics when a chilly wind is blowing, and black clouds render precautionary umbrellas and waterproofs necessary items in the outfit; nor, on the other hand, obliging the athletic, to whom movement is indispensable and good bracing air a regular “pick-me-up,” to sit in the house because the weather is bad, when they are really longing to don thick boots and defy the elements with the weapons of youth and health.

But while trying your best to provide some sort of amusement for your guests, never forget to “leave well alone,” and your visitors also. If there is one thing more objectionable than another to many people, it is being “hiked about,” and told to go here and there, or do this and that, when they do not want either to go to or do the place or thing suggested. Talleyrand once said to a man who asked counsel of him respecting a project he had very much at heart, “_Surtout pas trop de zèle_,” and that advice it is well to bear in mind. We all know the proverb, “One may have too much of a good thing,” and “zeal,” excellent in itself, is apt if over-much indulged to become a nuisance to the object if not the subject thereof.

The hostess who, with the best intentions, insists on driving her friends even to things they like doing, who says, “Now I know what will suit you—the old ruins. We will go there to-day, and to-morrow is the Gymkana. We must all go there. Headache, did you say? Oh, I thought you never had headaches, but anyhow a nice little drive just to the ruins can’t hurt. In fact the air will do you good. Now, you, I know you would rather stay in, so take that comfortable chair, and there’s your book, I put it ready for you, and there’s the _Morning Post_, or would you like the _Times_ better?” and so on _ad infinitum_, is a person to be dreaded. “Kind woman,” say her friends behind her back, “but, oh, if she would only leave us alone!”

The essence of good manners, indeed, is to make things as pleasant as possible by letting people follow their own bent and inclination; giving them the chance of joining in something which may be agreeable, but dropping the subject at once if it does not seem to be attractive. Closely connected with this is manner itself, about which it may be said perhaps, “People cannot help their manner.”

That is true to a certain extent but not entirely, for a good manner may be cultivated and a bad one discouraged just as flowers may be watered and attended to and weeds rooted out. When I speak of a good manner, I do not mean that specially soft demeanour which reminds one somewhat of a cat and is often accompanied by a little delicately hinted flattery of the person spoken to, although such manner is seldom thrown away, human nature being very prone to approve of flattery under the guise of appreciation. But I do mean gentleness as contrasted with anything like roughness or _brusquerie_. The Latin expression “_Suaviter in modo_” conveys the idea better than any words I know, and, in women particularly, short sharp ways of speaking, over-strong, almost violent, expressions of opinion, and what may be called unoiled words of contradiction, are disagreeable in themselves and dead against every rule and custom of society. If we possess a hand of steel, let us hide it in a velvet glove. The strength will be in no wise impaired thereby, while our neighbours will be less sensible of the hardness.

I must now say a word with regard to a curious mistake made sometimes even by people who certainly ought to know better. The mistake is in leaving out part of a person’s name whether in speaking or writing. If, for example, a man is called “Lord Frederick Smith,” or a woman “Lady Mary or Lady Edward Jones,” the Christian name must always be heard: not omitted in favour of the surname only. Indeed very often the former need only be mentioned, but the latter alone must never be. “Lord Smith” or “Lady Jones,” in the cases adduced above would be quite incorrect, but, strange to say, the error is not seldom committed.

Finally I will turn to the subject of most women’s pleasure and difficulty, dress. That is to say, dress when staying in country houses, for with respect to London there is no occasion to offer any observations, every woman being a law unto herself, limited only by her own taste and purse. But I know that sometimes, if a visit is imminent, the question “What clothes shall I take?” presents itself to the mind in the light rather of a puzzle far from easy to unravel, especially if ways and means are not remarkable for abundance. Naturally every girl and woman likes to look her best when staying away with the chance of meeting strangers and making a good or bad impression, and in the case of women who have reached the summer or autumn of life, there is one comparatively simple mode of lessening the toilette problem, which is to wear black. Black in good condition, be it understood, because shabby black has about it suggestions of poverty and supreme effort, which are neither becoming nor exhilarating. But silk, satin, velvet, any material really handsome, and lightened by lace and jet, can go anywhere unashamed, while for morning gowns cashmere, foulard, and that haven of refuge, the ubiquitous serge, always look well and do not date themselves too obviously. As for hats and bonnets, everybody can please themselves, remembering, however, that one hat should be fit to stand rain, as nothing has a worse effect than bedraggled ostrich feathers, or artificial flowers and gauze or chiffon crushed flat by a downpour. A short skirt is also an essential, and perhaps, if the purse is as short as the gown, an economy may be arrived at by having two skirts of different length to wear with the same coat. Neat boots of course “go without saying,” and plenty of gloves, a strong pair or two for every day and a store of pretty ones for occasions when they will be wanted. Tweeds and serges, cottons and foulards to suit the season—and the age of the wearer—are the best materials for morning frocks whether in black or colour. Silks and satins are quite out of it in the country except for evening. Tea-gowns _versus_ regular dinner dresses is a question to which an answer vague as those of the Delphic Oracle can only be given, for the excellent reason that the custom in one house is no guide to it in another in the matter. At some places when the party is small and quiet, tea-gowns are quite in order even at dinner, but in others those comfortable garments are relegated to their proper sphere, appearing only at five o’clock tea, the wearers blossoming forth at a later hour in the smartest and most up-to-date of toilettes. Tea-jackets answer the purpose of tea-gowns, but one or other should be packed, although it may chance after all to stay in the wardrobe, never being required either at tea or dinner.

Some pretty frocks which would do alike for party or dinner must be taken, and a few odds and ends of ribbon, bits of lace and sprays of artificial flowers, in case real ones are not to be had from the gardener, come in useful especially if an impromptu fancy dress dinner is arranged, and “the shop” in the village, with its stock-in-trade varying from candles and ironmongery to very thin cottony ribbons of abnormal hues, bunches of scarlet geranium, and poppies with woolly buds, is the only place where anything can be got.

In deciding what to take and what to leave behind, space necessarily must be considered, and it is astonishing the quantity of things one person will bring out of a box, almost like a conjuror and his inexhaustible hat, while another woman can hardly make the same sized receptacle hold half that number of articles. The difference comes partly from natural genius and partly from habit. In any case it is better to take two or three trunks of moderate dimensions than one mountain, which taxes the strength of even railway-porters, and makes servants look askance when they see a sort of elephant in the hall, waiting to be transported somehow upstairs. More than all, have your luggage tidy, locks secure, straps ditto. Bags and portmanteaus have a way of getting out of order, as regards the spring. I have seen specimens of both, strapped certainly, but not really locked, so that an aperture was visible all along the top, which should have been closed, and I have felt sorry for the owners.

These details, although they seem hardly in touch with my subject, are yet not entirely unconnected with it, inasmuch as one rule is to encourage things pleasant, and avoid, or ignore, things disagreeable. The wheels of daily life run over rough as well as smooth ground, and the inevitable jars and concussions would be even more apparent than they are, were it not for the oil provided by the Rules of Society.

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

MEDICAL.

SEPTEMDECIM.—Probably you will go on growing for five years longer. Besides which 5 feet 4 inches is not so very short for a woman. It is a very good medium height. It is extremely probable that you will put on another couple of inches, and that in a few years you will be writing to ask us how to get shorter.

MISERABLE.—You are quite right in ascribing a purely mental cause for your trouble. Blushing is almost always due to mental and not to physical causes. The form that your complaint takes is one of the commonest we have to deal with. As the cause is purely mental, so the treatment must be solely a matter of mental education. A short time ago we published an article on blushing, dealing especially with the kind of blushing from which you suffer. In that article we gave suggestions for the suppression of self-consciousness—the factor _par excellence_ of the commoner varieties of blushing and nervousness.

ENIGMA.—There is no such disease as “gastric fever.” This name used to be given to various forms of slight fever accompanied with symptoms referable to the stomach or bowels. Most cases of “gastric fever” were, in reality, mild attacks of typhoid fever. Acute indigestion was also not infrequently labelled gastric fever—an inappropriate term, for in acute indigestion there is practically no fever. The term “gastric fever” is not now used by medical men.

LAL.—The symptoms that you detail to us are capable of many explanations. The two most definite and important signs are occasional blood-spitting and shortness of breath when going up a hill. Are you sure that you do cough up blood? Most probably your troubles are simply due to chronic catarrh of the throat, but they may be dependent upon some mischief in the chest. Anyhow, you should have your chest examined before doing anything else.

DYSPEPTIC.—The bismuth lozenge of the British Pharmacopœia contains two grains of subnitrate of bismuth, precipitated chalk, and carbonate of magnesia, together with mucilage, etc. It is very useful for indigestion, especially when there is a tendency to vomiting. The great use of these lozenges lies in the ease with which they can be carried about. When there is no tendency to sickness, lozenges of bicarbonate of soda or soda-mint are preferable to bismuth lozenges.

SEEKING ADVICE.—The “small pimples” on your face are manifestations of acne. We have so frequently discussed this trouble that we cannot again enter into a full description of its cause and cure. Wash your face with warm water and sulphur soap, and every evening apply sulphur ointment to the place where the pimples are most numerous. Wash away the ointment in the morning and squeeze out a few of the most prominent spots. You are at the age for acne, but with a little care you are not likely to be troubled for long with it. For your hands, wash in warm water and use sulphur soap. Always wear thick gloves when you go out. We published a small article on the care of the hands some few weeks ago.

SCOTCH LASSIE.—Your trouble is due either to indigestion or to anæmia, or to nervousness, or possibly to disease of the heart. Without examining your chest it is beyond the power of any mortal to say which of these various affections is troubling you. Our advice is, therefore, go to your doctor and have your chest examined. You may be disappointed with this curt reply, but it is far more valuable advice than you imagine.

TEETHING.—There are four wisdom teeth. One on each side of both upper and lower jaws. They are called wisdom teeth because they do not develop until mature years. The first to appear is usually the one in the right side of the lower jaw. This usually appears between the ages of twenty and twenty-two. The wisdom teeth develop in nearly everybody, not only in those who are wise. Nor does the early appearance of the teeth indicate superior mental powers. Indeed, savages and idiots usually have the best teeth. Sometimes they do decay very soon, but very often they remain as sound serviceable teeth until the end.

A LOVER OF DANCING.—A large vein in the leg is not necessarily a varicose vein, but most probably it is so or will become so in time. A varicose vein is a diseased vein. It is very common, indeed, to have varicose veins in one leg only. If so the left leg is the more commonly affected. Is it your left leg which is affected? Exercise in the form of dancing for a few minutes every morning would be distinctly good for varicose veins. It is standing and sitting which are bad. The best thing for you to do is to get an elastic stocking for the leg. Let the stocking be one or two inches higher than the highest point where the vein extends. If you wear an elastic stocking, varicose veins are not dangerous, but if they are left untreated they cause very serious troubles.

MONA.—Have the tooth removed. Teeth growing out of place are quite useless, and are ugly and uncomfortable. No. The condition is not at all uncommon.

ANXIOUS MOTHER.—The question of the causation of tuberculosis by milk is the most important question in modern preventive medicine; for not only is tuberculosis the most common and most fatal disease of man, but milk is the staple food of infancy and sickness—the two states in which we are most prone to harbour germs of this terrible malady. To the public mind tuberculosis is synonymous with consumption of the lungs, but this is only one of its manifestations. Brain fever (tuberculosis of the brain) is a common and invariably fatal disease. The joint troubles known as “white swelling,” “hip disease,” and very many others are due to tuberculosis. The so-called “scrofulous” glands, which disfigure and undermine the health of so many of our children, are due to tuberculosis. The worst and most fatal form of diarrhœa is due to tuberculosis of the bowels. No organ in the body is exempt from the ravages of this disease. We look with righteous horror at the plague, or the various fevers which occasionally decimate our towns and villages, but these are as nothing when compared with the ravages of tuberculosis. Unlike the fevers which destroy life in a few days, tuberculosis usually takes months, often years, to kill its victims. Slowly, but surely, this terrible malady eats away the human organs till the unfortunate sufferers die of exhaustion, or from an intercurrent malady. To say that medical science can always cure tuberculosis would be very far from the truth, but it can and does rescue millions of sufferers from the disease. And it can, and in the future it will, do much to prevent the disease from gaining an entrance to the body. The disease is caused by a microbe, an infinitesimal atom of jelly, which cannot even move; but it can, and does, multiply by splitting in two, at an incredible rate. As regards the prevention of this scourge, the first question we must consider is, where does this dreadful organism come from? Suffice it for your question that the organism is frequently found in milk. True, it is only in the milk of tubercular animals that these organisms are found, but it is not always possible to tell whether a cow has tuberculosis. And so, notwithstanding every precaution, tubercular milk does get into your milk-jug and that can scarcely be prevented; but you can prevent the organisms from finding their way into you or your child’s body by the simple expedient of boiling the milk. If you boil milk it cannot give you tuberculosis. Now, we dare say you think that we might have said this at once, and not wasted half a column of valuable space in detailing the horrors of tuberculosis. Had we done this you would probably not have paid any attention to our warning. It is only by forcible illustration that we can impress the mind with the immense value of attention to trifling details. And the importance of this detail may be gauged when we aver that a law to enforce persons boiling their milk would probably save more lives than the invention of ships which could not possibly be injured by wind or weather, or of railway trains which could not collide.

STUDY AND STUDIO.

D. E. N. S.—1. We cannot tell you of any French lady who would exchange correspondence lessons with you. But why not insert your name in our “International Correspondence” column?—2. Mudie’s Library, or Smith’s, extend their operations to country districts. For light reading, you might try one of these.

LAUREL.—We have read your letter with great sympathy. We cannot give a direct “yes” or “no” to your question, as so much depends on the individual habit of mind. Would you not like to read a good translation (_e.g._, Longfellow’s) of Dante’s “Divine Comedy” on Sunday? We certainly think you should employ your scanty leisure to the best advantage; but there are many great poets who are so spiritual in tone, that there could be no doubt as to the fitness of studying them on this day.

SEMPER IDEM.—1. You do not give us your address, but there are plenty of classes in London for type-writing; address The Secretary, Board of Technical Instruction, St. Martin’s Lane, W.C. The art appears to be very quickly learned as a rule.—2. Your quotation,

“Boys, flying kites, haul in their white-winged birds, You can’t do that way when you’re flying words,”

is from “The First Settler’s Story” in Will Carleton’s _Farm Ballads_.

EDWIN C. R. LANGLEY.—Many thanks for your kind suggestion. We remembered Longfellow’s mention of St. Augustine; but Tennyson, though his thought is similar, does not mean St. Augustine, or even Longfellow by

“Him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones.”

Our information, that the poet referred to was Goethe, comes from one who had asked Tennyson himself.

COLLEEN BAWN.—1. Your story is graphically written and shows you to have a certain power of description. The criticism—not, as you suggest, a severe one—which we should be disposed to offer is this:—That you are inclined towards an excess of sentimentality. Why should the curate have felt “everything was changed for him” after the scene in the church? “Miss Amy” had given him no cause whatever, so far as the reader can observe, for any such despair. And his dying in the snow is unnecessarily tragic. A sensible man, accustomed to traverse the parish in all weathers, would have guarded against losing his way on such a night as you describe, probably by remaining under shelter at the cottage till daylight, if no guide could be found. One feels that the man’s life is quite needlessly sacrificed for the sake of forcing the pathos. We should not have said all this, had not your story shown some signs of talent, and if you are neglecting no duty by writing, we should advise you to persevere.—2. Your handwriting is good, and you appear to understand the art of punctuation, which is by no means a matter of course.

FROG.—1. We should advise you to write to George Philip & Son, publishers, London, for a full catalogue of geographical works of every sort at a low price. Doubtless any bookseller would procure this catalogue for you.—2. We should consider that no soap can be of any possible use in reducing weight. Plenty of exercise and proper diet are the best remedies.

WHITE ASTER.—1. We do not consider your handwriting good. The backward slope is not to be admired, and in addition to this defect, it is very irregular and untidy.—2. We have heard that a coating of varnish is sufficient for the purpose you name, but have never tried it.

MISS E. K. SIBBALD (Canada).—Many thanks for sending the extract stating that “Puss” is a modern form of the Egyptian “Pasht”—a name given by the ancient Egyptians to the moon, and also to the cat, of which they made an idol. The cat’s face was supposed to resemble the moon “because she was more bright at night, and because her eyes change just as the moon changes, which is sometimes full and sometimes a bright crescent or half moon.”

CLISSOLD.—All we can suggest is that you should apply to the director or organizing secretary for technical education in your district, asking him where you can obtain instruction in “black and white.” We believe that the address for Halifax would be W. Vibart Dixon, Esq., West Riding Offices, Wakefield. He would perhaps help you. Did you read Mrs. Watson’s articles on “What are the County Councils doing for Girls”? (THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER, 1897.) We advise you to refer to them.

E. G. M.—Your poem on the “Dying Child” is incorrect in metre. From verse to verse the lines vary; for instance, your ear can tell you that these lines are not alike—

“Oh, weary watcher! thy care is all in vain.”

“Relentless watcher, thy name is Death.”

Yet both lines occupy the same place in the verse. “The Phantom Bell” is much better, so far as form goes; but not quite accurate, and we fear you would scarcely be able to find a publisher for it. You should study the laws of versification.

MISS NICHOLLS.—1. We cannot insert your requirements in full; but are willing to say that any reader, not under twenty-four, acquainted with German, French, and either painting or music (the latter preferred), who feels she would like to work with another lady in teaching and share her house, may write to you for further details.—2. Your poems are very fairly good, especially the translations. The first two verses of the Italian specimen do you credit. We also proceed to notice, at your request, A Romance Languages Club, Secretary, Miss Nicholls, Laburnum Villa, Leamington. “The club is designed to promote the intelligent study of the Romance Languages—French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese. Every member must study French and one other language—Italian, Spanish or Portuguese; but if a member wishes to work at three or all four languages, she will be at liberty to do so. On receipt of a stamped addressed envelope a trial lesson will be sent free to anyone.” Further particulars may be obtained on application.

SELECTA and FIRST CLASS of FRÄULEIN GREEN’S SCHOOL, HAMBURG.—We are very glad, dear girls, to hear that our paper finds its way to you and gives you pleasure. You must have made excellent progress in English when you can read it as a recreation, not merely as a lesson. We should like to encourage you to persevere. Germans have understood and commented upon our greatest author, Shakespeare, better even than we English have done, and we owe your country a great literary debt. We hope that in days to come you may each be able to appreciate, not only the great books of your own country, but the great books of ours—and then you will never regret any toil or trouble spent in learning the English language.

MISCELLANEOUS.

AN OLD SUBSCRIBER.—Visiting-cards, as such, should not be sent by post under any circumstances. The enclosure of cards with a piece of wedding-cake only serves to indicate whence the latter comes. They are not sent as visiting-cards.

SCIENTIST.—The writer of the articles on “House-Mottoes” has been questioned on the subject of the old house in Lancashire, known as “Bradley Hall.” That it may be identified as being reduced to the position of a farm-house is all she can suggest. She was not aware that any other ancient country seats existed in Lancashire, all of them known by the same name; and is surprised to hear that there are “several.” “The Herald’s Visitations” of the county might afford the information required.

ETHELINDA writes a good legible free hand.

OUR DICK.—The game called “kiss-in-the-ring” is not one played by the higher classes of society. Amongst others less reserve is unfortunately permitted. In any case such familiarity between young men and women is inexpedient. Blues, greens, and violet are the colours which best suit red or chestnut hair.

E. E. MORGAN.—We thank you for your list of places where used postage-stamps may be sent for the benefit of the Asylum for Girls at Le Locle, Neuchâtel, Switzerland. We are well acquainted with the “Asile des Billodes,” and have often both written about it in the “G. O. P.,” but contribute largely to it annually, direct to a native friend. However, we will give our readers two addresses, with which you have favoured us, viz., the Swiss Home, Mechlenburg Square, W.C., and Messrs. Loizeaux Bros., 63, Fourth Avenue, New York. We inquired of a Swiss friend how such stamps were made available for the benefit of the charity, and she said she believed, though she was not sure, that they were sent to Nuremberg for the purpose of making _papier maché_. We give her conjecture for what it may be worth.

HAHA.—If the dust coming out of the wood you name be consequent on “dry-rot”—a decay of the wood—it is connected with the growth of a minute plant belonging to the tribe of _fungi_, which spreads with wonderful rapidity, and feeds on the juice of the wood. Of course, if the wood be infested with vermin, you can ascertain that fact for yourself by examining it with a microscope, and observing any movement, if there be such.

EXCELSIOR.—The character begins to be formed in early childhood, but the judgment takes a good many years to come to maturity, and in some not till five-and-twenty or later, and remains defective the whole life through with others. From the character of your letter, we should say that your state of health has a great influence on your excitable and unhappy frame of mind. You are also striving by fits and starts to “be good” in your own strength, instead of telling your Heavenly Father your temptations, doubts, and frequent falls, and asking for the help of the Holy Spirit. He has said, “My grace is sufficient for thee; for My strength shall be made perfect in weakness.” Pray for grace to look away from self and its insufficiency to Christ, Who hath “borne our sins,” and “by Whose stripes we are healed.” Live from day to day; do not forestall temptations and imaginary failures. “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”

W. A. B. E.—The “best man” leads out the bride’s eldest sister (or first bridesmaid), and the others may follow escorted by the other gentlemen near relatives (single men). The bride cuts the cake in the first instance, and she deputes any of the young men—brother or “best man”—to cut up what is required.

“MY FAVOURITE CONTRIBUTORS” COMPETITION.

EACH reader of this paper is asked to select Ten Contributors from the Portrait Gallery, which we present with our Thousandth Number, and to write us an interesting letter telling us, as though from friend to friend, which writings of her favourite contributors please her most.

Begin the letter, which may be short or long, and which may be written on any kind and size of paper preferred by the writer, with the words—

MY DEAR MR. EDITOR,

My favourite contributors are—

1st.________________

And what I have enjoyed most are—— (with any remarks of the competitor’s own which she may wish to make).

2nd.________________

And so on.

_Full signature_ ____________ _Address_ _______________

The ten letters which satisfy the Editor most will be awarded a prize of ONE GUINEA each, so there will be ten of these prizes. There will also be ten prizes of HALF-A-GUINEA each (making twenty prizes in all), and a list of Honourable Mention.

* * * * *

The last day for receiving the letters will be May Day, 1899, and no letters can be returned to the writers.

OUR SUPPLEMENT STORY COMPETITION.

“WHEN MY SHIP COMES HOME.”

A STORY IN MINIATURE.

FIRST PRIZE (£2 2s.).

Letitia E. May, Tremayne, Alton, Hants.

SECOND PRIZE (£1 1s.).

Miss A. G. Pike, 21, Beatrice Avenue, Plymouth.

THIRD PRIZE (10s. 6d.).

Bessie Hine, 508, West Green Road, South Tottenham.

HONOURABLE MENTION.

“Dalkeith,” Southsea; Helen A. Rickards, Monmouth; Lucy Richardson, York; Relda Hofman, Paris; Ada A. Gage, Norwich; “Felicity,” Harwich, Essex; E. Jackson, Bow, E.; Lottie Hardy, Redcliffe Road, South Kensington; Margaret Rudd, Anerley; Edith Matthew, Beckenham; Elizabeth Rogers, Tramore, Co. Waterford; Florence L. Berry, Worcester; Florence Bensted, Deal; Alice E. Graves, Roscrea, Co. Tipperary; Lucy Bourne, Winchester; “Edythe,” Boscombe, Hants.

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FIRST PRIZE ESSAY.

“WHEN MY SHIP COMES HOME.”

From childhood Harry Millbrooke resolved to marry Chatty Reeve when his ship came home. Now, Chatty declines to face the drudgery and monotony of domestic life. Harry regrets that she is influenced by her sister’s family worries, but he will not say good-bye to the old dream. Chatty determines to be a strong-minded spinster seeking her fortune in London where employment on the staff of a journal is promised by Joan Atherstone. Leaving Harry amidst the ruins of his fairy palace, she bids farewell to Audrey Woodville whose ship has come home with a lover who, after seven years’ absence, seeks his freedom. Audrey soars above her own trial, warns Chatty that she will not find the wilderness a paradise, and cheers Harry by assuring him that his ship will come home.

Chatty is disillusioned in London. The boarding-house is crowded. Some of its inmates are noisy and selfish. Poverty and care are stamped on all faces. Existence is a sad, despairing struggle. Joan forsakes the office in the Strand for a bicycle tour, and leaves Chatty to endure the burden of extra work in a stifling atmosphere. The country girl pines for the fresh breezes and sparkling waves of Northsea. She perceives the blessings she has cast away and the home she has despised. Chatty is lonely when Phœbe goes to keep house for an uncle, and after Esther’s wedding she feels an out-of-date regret that while her friend is happy on the old lines, she is unhappy on the new.

The climax comes. Faint and bewildered in crossing the street, Chatty regains consciousness in a hospital. When welcomed to her sister’s home she has changed from a self-reliant girl to a reserved woman. Barbara and Edward Purcell are very kind to her, and she resumes her post of governess, but all the old ties cannot be renewed so easily. Harry Millbrooke is in Copenhagen, and his mother has adopted pretty Etta Churton. Chatty reflects with a sigh that when her ship came home she sent it again to sea.

One balmy autumn day Harry returns and finds Chatty on the sea-shore. “Has my ship come home?” he asks. The answer is, “Yes, with torn sail and almost a wreck! But I know where my true haven is. I never want to go back to the waves of this troublesome world. I am safe in port at last.”

So this story, which our beloved authoress has woven round an attractive title, depicts the spirit of the age—the cry for emancipated womanhood, and ends to the happy music of wedding bells.

OUR NEXT STORY COMPETITION.

STORIES IN MINIATURE.

_Subject:_—“THE G. O. P. SUPPLEMENT FOR MARCH.”

THE DEAF GIRL NEXT DOOR.

BY HELEN MARION BURNSIDE (A DEAF WRITER), Author of “Her Highland Laddie,” etc.

We offer three prizes of TWO GUINEAS, ONE GUINEA, and HALF-A-GUINEA for the three best papers on our “Story Supplement” for this month. The essays are to give a brief account of the plot and action of the story in the Competitor’s own words; in fact, each paper should be a carefully-constructed _Story in Miniature_, telling the reader in a few bright words what THE GIRL’S OWN STORY SUPPLEMENT for the month is all about.

One page of foolscap only is to be written upon, and is to be signed by the writer, followed by her full address, and posted to The Editor, GIRL’S OWN PAPER, in an unsealed envelope, with the words “Stories in Miniature” written on the left-hand top corner.

The last day for receiving the papers is March 20th; and no papers can in any case be returned.

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_Examiners:_—The Author of the Story (Helen Marion Burnside), and the Editor of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER.

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[Transcriber’s Note—the following changes have been made to this text:

Page 350: artifical to artifical—“artificial flowers”.]