CHAPTER XXXII.

MOORE’S LAST VICTORY.

In an instant Sir John Moore half raised himself, gazing still with concentrated earnestness, as if nothing had happened, towards the Highland regiment now hotly engaged. Not a sigh was heard. Not a muscle in his face quivered.

Hardinge had sprung down, and Moore’s right hand grasped his firmly. When Hardinge, seeing his anxiety as to the 42nd, exclaimed, “They are advancing!” a flash of joy lighted up Moore’s features.

Then Colonel Graham hurried to the spot. So placid and unchanged was the General’s look that for a moment he hoped it might be no more than an accidental fall from the horse. The next moment he saw—and he rode off at full speed for a surgeon.

It was an awful wound. Almost the whole left shoulder was carried away; the arm was all but separated from the body; the ribs over that intrepid heart were broken; the flesh and muscles were fearfully torn and mangled. Hardinge made an attempt with his sash to check the rush of blood; but with so extensive an injury little could be done.

Sir John was then gently lifted upon a blanket, and all the while he still intently watched the struggle, as if his own state were a matter of very secondary importance.

For a moment his attention was recalled from the front. His sword became entangled, as the soldiers moved him, and the hilt went into the wound. Captain Hardinge began to unbuckle it, but he was at once checked, Moore saying in his usual voice, with calm distinctness—

“It is as well as it is. I had rather it should go out of the field with me.”

So extraordinary was his composure that Hardinge began to hope, even against hope, that the wound might after all prove not to be mortal, that the General might even yet be spared to his country. He faltered something of the kind, and Moore turned from gazing at the battle, to inspect gravely his own injuries.

“No, Hardinge, I feel that to be impossible,” he replied. “You need not go with me. Report to General Hope that I am wounded and carried to the rear.”

He was slowly borne towards Coruña, a sergeant and ten soldiers of the Guards and the 42nd being told off for this service. Hardinge’s sash was arranged so as to give him support.

Two surgeons came hastening to meet him. They had been engaged with the arm of his next in command, Sir David Baird, which was badly shattered, but on hearing what had happened to his Chief, Baird hurried them off, and they left his arm half-dressed. Moore, who was losing blood rapidly, observed—

“You can be of no service to me. Go to the wounded soldiers. You may be of use to them.” But this unselfish order could not be obeyed.

Again and again in their sad progress he desired a halt, that he might watch what was going on, and might listen to the fainter sound of the enemy’s musketry, as the French were driven back.

Presently they were overtaken by a spring waggon containing a wounded officer, Colonel Wynch, who asked, “Who was in the blanket?” On hearing that it was General Moore, he suggested his removal to the waggon. Moore did not refuse, but he looked at one of the Highlanders and asked his opinion—would the waggon or the blanket be best? The man advised the latter.

“It will not shake you so much, sir,” he said; “and we can keep step, and carry you more easy.”

“I think so, too,” Sir John quietly said, and they went on their way as before. By this time the hardy Highlanders and Guardsmen who carried him were one and all in tears.

It was nearly dark when they reached his lodgings in Coruña. Colonel Anderson, his devoted friend and comrade during twenty-one years past, met the mournful cavalcade, and was speechless with distress. This was the third time that he had seen Moore carried wounded from a field of battle; and it was the last.

Moore pressed his hand tightly.

“Anderson, don’t leave me!” he murmured.

Then, as his faithful French servant, François, appeared, in blank horror, with falling tears, he smiled.

“_Mon ami_, this is nothing,” he said.

The surgeons examined the wound, only to find that no hope of recovery existed. By this time the agony had become so overwhelming that Moore could hardly speak, and his face was deathly pale. Yet, after a while, he so far mastered the torture as to utter one sentence and then another at intervals.

“Anderson, you know that I have always wished to die in this way,” came first. And, as the officers of his staff appeared, one by one, he put the same question to each—“Are the French beaten?”

Next, with unconscious pathos, read now in the light of after-misrepresentations—

“_I hope the people of England will be satisfied. I hope my country will do me justice!_”

Now there was the thought of his own relatives.

“Anderson—you will see my friends as soon as you can. Tell them—everything. Say to my mother——”

For the first time self-control failed. His voice broke, and his features were strongly agitated. The love between that son and that mother had been of no common kind. He was utterly unable to speak what he wished, and he turned to another subject.

“Hope—Hope—I have much to say to him—but—cannot get it out? Are Colonel Graham[2] and all my Aides-de-camp safe?”

Anderson hastily signed to others not to tell him that one of the latter had been dangerously wounded, knowing well the strong affection which existed between Moore and his whole staff. The question was evaded.

He then mentioned that he had made his will, and had in it remembered his servants. “Colbourne has my will—and all my papers,” he said. And when Major Colbourne[3] came in, Moore greeted him with exceeding kindness, turning then to Sir John Hope, to say with difficulty, “Hope, go to the Duke of York, and say he ought to give Colbourne a regiment.” Upon Anderson too he urged the same.

He asked again, “Were the French beaten?” In every direction, he was told. “It’s a great satisfaction for me to know we have beaten the French,” he remarked. “Is Paget in the room?” Colonel Anderson, who throughout remained close by his side, supporting him as he lay, replied in the negative. “Remember me to him. It is General Paget I mean. He is a fine fellow.”

A little later came the words, “I feel myself so strong—I fear I shall be long dying. It is great uneasiness—it is great pain.”

This was the only approach to a complaint which passed those patient lips. But the strength of which he spoke was that of the indomitable will, not of the shattered body, for already life was ebbing fast, and the shadows were closing around him.

Yet, surely for him, beyond the shadows, waited a Light Divine.

He met the last enemy as he had met his earthly foes, as indeed he had ofttimes faced the former, with unshaken composure and without dread, no more startled by the summons than if he had been called upon to cross the English Channel. And, as always, his thoughts were for others, not for himself.

“Everything François says—is right,” he told them. “I have the greatest confidence in him.”

Some grateful words were addressed to the surgeons, thanking them for their efforts to give him ease. He spoke kindly to two more of his Aides-de-camp who came in. One of these was Captain James Stanhope, brother to Charles Stanhope, killed that day, and to Lady Hester Stanhope, Moore’s friend. Stanhope’s eyes met those of the dying soldier, and Moore said distinctly—

“Stanhope—remember me to your sister.”

This was his last utterance. He sank into silence, pressing the hand of Anderson closely to his side. A few minutes later, calmly and without a struggle, the grand spirit triumphed over death, and passed away.

And in that still chamber might be heard the sound of smothered convulsive sobbing. The younger officers present broke utterly down, while the elder men looked on with bowed heads, scarcely better able to restrain their anguish. Colonel Anderson still knelt, supporting the lifeless head, gazing, with blanched and parted lips, into the quiet face, which for twenty-one years had been the centre and the illumination of his being, his look of woe being beyond the power of words to describe. On the other side of the mattress, one in sorrow with all these mourning Englishmen, was the faithful and devoted François. French by birth, he cared for little in the world besides this idolised master, over whom he despairingly hung, his hands wrung together, his face matching in pallor those placid features.

For one of the noblest of men was gone from their midst that hour; and a heavy shadow fell upon the victorious British Army.

Upon this sad scene came another Aide-de-camp, George Napier, too late for any of those last words which would have been to him a lifelong treasure. Twenty years afterwards, when describing what he had seen as he entered, he wrote in still unconquered pain—

“That eye which was wont to penetrate the inmost soul was glazed in death. That manly graceful form, the admiration of the Army, lay stretched, a lifeless corpse. The great spirit had quitted its earthly habitation. All around was sad and gloomy. Moore was dead!”

“Dark lay the field of slain; the battle’s strife was o’er, That shook Coruña’s hills, and rent the Iberian shore; Dim twilight veiled the scene of glory and of death, Till o’er the blood-stained snow, The moon, pale, trembling, slow, Revealed each crimsoned wreath.

Low on the victor-field the Warrior Chief was laid; His eye still sought the foe, his hand still grasped the blade; Triumphant was his smile, though dim his closing eye,— While bending o’er the slain, His mournful gallant train Learnt how the brave should die.

* * * * *

No sculptured trophy rose, to deck his honoured head, Or monumental urn, to mark the Mighty Dead; No lettered scroll to point the pilgrim soldier’s way,— The musing foe to greet, And guide his wandering feet To where the Warrior lay.

But o’er his loved remains were choicest honours shed, Tears such as Heroes weep bedewed his lowly bed; A deep responsive sigh from Albion’s woe-struck Isle Swelled o’er the Atlantic wave, And decked his early grave— Who for his Country fought, who for his Country fell.”[4]

(_To be continued._)

[2] Afterwards Lord Lynedoch.

[3] Afterwards Lord Seaton, one of the most prominent officers in the British Army.

[4] Written in memory of Moore by William Stark of Edinburgh in 1813.

THE GIRL’S OWN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

THE EXAMINERS REPORT ON THE THIRD AND LAST TWENTY-FOUR QUESTIONS.

Our useful and interesting competition is now at an end, and we give here the answers to the third and last instalment of questions. In this final march few competitors have fallen out of the ranks, and it is gratifying to have to record that the quality of the papers has steadily improved in almost every case, as, indeed, was to be expected from the painstaking and enthusiasm displayed at the start. It only remains now to say a few words about the competition as a whole, and to intimate who are the prize-winners and certificate-holders, and for that our diligent girls will not have long to wait.

=49. What epidemic in Italy in the sixteenth century was cured by means of music?=

To illustrate the proverb that a bad beginning makes a good ending, many failed to answer. But it was by no means out-of-the-way information that this epidemic was what is known as tarantism, which prevailed in South Italy to an extraordinary extent during the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, being at its height during the sixteenth century. It was a sort of hysteria, and the different forms taken by the disease were cured by means of different airs, to which the patients were forced to dance till they often dropped down with exhaustion. Bands of players used to go through the country to provide the medicinal music, the melodies they played being spoken of as tarantellas.

=50. What is the mother-tongue of Queen Victoria?=

It depends, says a competitor, on what you mean by mother-tongue. If you mean mother’s tongue, it is German; but if you mean the language of her native land, it is English. This is a sensible reply. The Queen was born at Kensington Palace on May 24th, 1819, her father being the Duke of Kent, the fourth son of George III. Her mother was the daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg. When she came to England shortly before the birth of her child, the Duchess could speak hardly any English, and German was thus a language with which our Queen was familiar in her earliest years. One girl suggests that we should settle this “puzzling question by saying that ‘her Majesty has two mother-tongues.’”

=51. What is the best time at which to water indoor and outdoor plants?=

The best answers to this question pointed out that it depends on the season of the year. In spring and autumn plants should be watered in the morning, whilst in summer the proper time is the evening; and in winter what little water is needed should be given in the middle of the day. Mrs. Loudon’s _Plain Instructions in Gardening_ were quoted by three or four to the effect that, though some people object to watering plants when the sun is upon them, this is not at all injurious so long as the water is not too cold, and is only given to the roots. To give water over the leaves when the sun is on them makes the leaves blister and become covered with pale brown spots.

=52. Is abundant hair an indication of bodily and mental strength?=

Here many girls showed their good sense by giving their own personal observations, and in this way some odd facts were brought forward. The general drift of the answers is pretty well summed up in the following quotation—

“Abundant hair is neither an indication of bodily nor of mental strength, whatever it may be supposed to be. The story of Samson has given rise to the notion that hairy people are strong physically; but the fact is that the Chinese, who are the most enduring of all races, are nearly bald. And as to the supposition that long and thick hair is a sign or token of intellectuality, all antiquity, all madhouses, and all common observation are against it. The easily-wheedled Esau was hairy; the mighty Cæsar was bald.”

One girl, in a spirit of fun, says, “If the brain is over-worked, the hair comes out,” and draws very neatly two pictures of herself, one with a fine head of hair as she was “before answering these questions” and the other with the scantiest of scanty locks showing how she looked “after they had been all replied to.”

=53. How many ways can be named of profitably using broken bread?=

“Some notable housewives,” says Miss Florence Stackpoole, “make the ignominious confession that, in the manner of using up broken bread, they are, in schoolboy slang, fairly ‘stumped.’ How to get rid of it they do not know.” They may now be recommended to consult our numerous band of competitors, who in their replies to this question showed much practical housekeeping sense. “About forty-five ways,” says one girl, and we are inclined to think that we could nearly make up that number by taking all the different ways suggested, beginning with the various uses to which broken bread can be put in cookery and ending with its employment in cleaning pictures, wall-papers, and felt hats; feeding the birds, “who are very glad of it, especially in cold weather”; trapping birds, “for which, no doubt, they are not so thankful”; furnishing bait for fishing, and feeding pigs, chickens and cats.

=54. Was public money ever raised in England by encouraging the spirit of gambling?=

The right answer to this question is that public money was at one time raised in this country by means of lotteries. The first public lottery in England, so far as can be ascertained, was drawn in 1569, and had for its object the repair of harbours and other useful public works. “From that date in the reign of Queen Elizabeth,” says Dr. Robert Chambers, “down to 1826 (except for a short time following upon an Act of Queen Anne), lotteries continued to be adopted by the English Government as a source of revenue. It seems strange that so glaringly immoral a project should have been kept up with such a sanction so long.” A good many girls did not answer this question at all, and several, without referring to lotteries, ran off into particulars regarding the famous South Sea Bubble.

=55. Who was the religious poet so beloved by the parish of which he was rector, that many of his parishioners would stop their ploughs when his bell rang for prayer, that they might offer their devotions to God with him?=

This beautiful example of the influence that may be exerted by a godly pastor appeared to be well known. The poet was the saintly George Herbert, rector of Bemerton, in Wiltshire, who was born in 1593 and died in 1632. And when he died, says Izaak Walton, who wrote his Life, “he died like a saint, unspotted of the world, full of humility, and all the examples of a virtuous life.”

=56. How did the leek come to be the emblem of Wales?=

As was to be expected, for the answer is not to be looked for in well-authenticated history, a good many different explanations were given. According to some this national device of Wales, commonly worn by Welshmen on St. David’s Day, March 1st, was selected for its high position because it possesses the old Cymric colours, green and white. Others had it that it was in memory of a great victory over the Saxons, when the Welshmen, obeying the command of St. David, put leeks into their hats, to distinguish between themselves and their foes. A good many said that it was dated from the battle of Crecy, and backed up their opinion by quoting Shakespeare. One girl we noticed said it was because the Welsh think the leek a lucky plant, and grow it on their cottage roofs to bring good fortune. And a few unromantic competitors said it was all on account of the prominent place occupied by the leek in Welsh cookery.

=57. What famous outlaw has a conspicuous place in ballad literature?=

Many outlaws have a place in ballad literature, but one stands head and shoulders above all the rest, and that is Robin Hood. The numerous and spirited ballads of which he and his companions, such as Maid Marian, Friar Tuck and Little John, are the leading characters, are favourite reading with all who love adventure and romance. Towards the close of the Middle Ages, says a competitor, quoting a well-known authority, Robin Hood was the people’s ideal as Arthur was that of the upper classes. He was the ideal yeoman as Arthur was the ideal knight.

=58. Where can a married couple, after a twelvemonth of matrimony, lay claim to a flitch of bacon after proving that, during the whole time, they have never had a quarrel and never regretted the marriage?=

This whimsical custom, about which nearly everybody seemed to know, is connected with the priory of Dunmow in Essex, and dates as far back as the reign of King John. The earliest instances of the awarding of the flitch have not been recorded: the first we have particulars of is dated 1445. After 1763, the custom fell into the background, but a revival of it was effected in 1855, by Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, the novelist, and since then several have applied for and gained this strange matrimonial prize.

=59. Has anyone ever tried to count the stars?=

“Look now towards Heaven,” we read in the Scriptures, “and tell the stars if thou be able to number them.” Many observers, however, including the two Herschels, have made the attempt. The stars visible to the naked eye are only a fraction of the whole, but according to the estimate of the distinguished German astronomer, Argeland, the number seen by the unaided vision in the latitude of Berlin is 3,256, and for the whole heavens may be put at about 5,000. Another German astronomer makes out the naked-eye stars in the whole heavens to be about 6,800. When the telescope is introduced the number is enormously increased. The larger the telescope the more stars we see. The number has been run up by authorities worthy of respect to as high as twenty million stars, and more, within the grasp of an 18-inch reflector! Some girls, in answering this question, mentioned that there was an International Photographic Survey of the Heavens now going on which is sure to throw light on this interesting problem.

=60. What English Earl once got a box on the ear from a great Queen?=

All competitors were right who said that the receiver of this royal box was the Earl of Essex, and the giver Queen Elizabeth. It was on an occasion when the two had begun to dispute on the subject of an assistant in the affairs of Ireland, to which the earl was going as Lord Deputy. The dispute ended in the earl’s receiving from her majesty a box on the ear, with, we are told, the encouraging addition of “Go and be hanged!” The fall of Essex is generally dated from this circumstance, and it is thought that he never forgave it.

=61. Is what is known as the poisonous upas tree of Java a fact or a hoax?=

It was right to say that it is partly the one and partly the other; about an ounce of fact, however, to a pound of hoax. The name upas—a Javanese word meaning poison—is given by the Malays and people of Western Java to the poison obtained from the gum of a tree that used to be employed in Celebes to envenom the bamboo shafts of the natives.

The famous description of the upas tree, with its effluvia killing all things near it, is a pure fiction, the invention of George Stevens, the Shakespearean commentator, who seems to have had a special turn for mystifying and befooling the public. According to him the tree destroyed all animal life within a radius of fifteen miles or more, and when the poison was wanted it was fetched by condemned criminals, of whom scarcely two out of twenty ever returned.

Several girls mentioned that the upas tree is to be met with in botanic gardens in this country and, says one, “not doing a halfpennyworth of harm to anybody.”

=62. What is the best way of treating a fainting fit?=

Almost all seemed to have an intelligent idea of what to do. They had grasped the fact that the direct cause of fainting is diminished circulation of blood through the brain, and that, therefore, in trying to restore a person who has fainted, the first thing to be done is to alter that condition. The patient, they said, should be laid down quite flat, “so that the feebly-acting heart may not have to propel the blood upward, but horizontally”; tight clothing should then be loosened, cool fresh air admitted, cold water sprinkled down the face, volatile salts, or other stimulant vapours, held at intervals to the nostrils; and a little cold water, either by itself or having in it a teaspoonful or two of sal volatile, or the same quantity of spirits, being given as soon as the patient is able to swallow.

=63. What public punishment was once in use in England for scolding women?=

Women who made free use of their tongues were punished in an original way in old England. They were submitted to the correction of the ducking stool, a chair at the end of a plank which moved up and down over a river or pond—it was a sort of see-saw arrangement. The scold was fastened in the chair, the other end of the plank was lifted up, and down she went into the water, the number of immersions being in proportion to the vigour of her fiery tongue. It was an old institution: we find it mentioned in the Doomsday Survey. In the seventeenth century, the ducking stool was superseded, to a certain extent, by what was known as the branks. This was a scold’s bridle, the chief part of which entered the mouth and pressed upon the tongue, thus forming an effectual gag. “Ducking stools and branks, however,” one writer sadly remarks, “with all their terrors, seem to have been insufficient to frighten the shrews of former days out of their bad propensities.”

=64. What was the origin of the phrase, “The wise fools of Gotham?”=

A good number of competitors had been unable to discover how these Nottinghamshire worthies obtained their unenviable notoriety. According to tradition, King John once intended to pass through Gotham on his way to Nottingham, but the inhabitants prevented him, for some reason or other best known to themselves. The king, in a rage, sent some of his servants to inquire why they had been so uncivil, and the Gothamites, hearing of their approach, thought of an expedient to turn away the monarch’s displeasure—they pretended more stupidity than really belonged to them. When the messengers arrived they found some of the inhabitants endeavouring to drown an eel in a pool of water; some were employed in dragging carts into a large barn to shade the wood from the sun, and lifting horses into lofts to eat hay; and others were engaged in building a hedge round a cuckoo which had perched in a bush. In short they were all employed in some ridiculous task or other, which convinced the king’s servants that Gotham was a village of fools—a reputation it has ever since maintained. Such is the story, but its truth is another matter. In one paper we find a good word for Gotham quoted from Fuller, to the effect that “Gotham doth breed as _wise_ people as any which causelessly laugh at their simplicity.”

=65. Is length of life greater now than it used to be?=

The best answer to this question will be to quote some interesting statistics given by Mr. Holt Schooling, who takes for the basis of his statements the three official English life-tables (for 1838-1854, 1871-1880, and 1881-1890). These tables show an increase in the second period over the first of 1.44 years expectation of life at birth to every male, and 2.77 to every female; and in the third period over the first of 3.75 to every male, and 5.33 to every female. In other words, 3¾ years of life have been added on the average to every male child, and 5¹⁄₃ years to every female child. Thus the children born in any one year in England and Wales will in the mass live more than four million years longer than at the beginning of the period dealt with in these tables.

Girls who puzzled over such old examples as the Countess of Desmond, who is said to have died at 145, Thomas Parr, credited with 152, and Henry Jenkins, who is reported to have died at 169, should take note that the ages of these persons are generally allowed to have been much exaggerated, and that, even if the figures were authentic, it does not do, from a few isolated instances, to infer a general conclusion.

=66. Of what literary work has it been said that it is “perhaps the only book about which the educated minority has come over to the opinion of the common people?”=

The book was the _Pilgrim’s Progress_, by John Bunyan, and he who said it was Lord Macaulay. The general rule, Lord Macaulay points out, is that when the educated minority and the common people differ about the merit of a book, the opinion of the educated minority finally prevails. The _Pilgrim’s Progress_, of which the numerous early editions were evidently intended for the cottage and the servants’ hall, the paper, the printing, and the plates being all of the meanest description, furnishes a notable exception. A wonderful book! “One of the few books,” says Coleridge, “which may be read repeatedly at different times, and each time with a new and a different pleasure.”

=67. Who was the young Fellow of Oxford who, during the latter half of last century, eloped with a banker’s daughter, and came in the end to be Lord Chancellor of England?=

“When on a visit to Newcastle,” writes a competitor, “I was taken to see the window through which Bessy Surtees came when on the 18th of November, 1772, she eloped with Jack Scott, who afterwards became Lord Eldon. He was the Lord Chancellor referred to in the question.” Yes, that is so. By the aid of a ladder and an old friend, “this adventurous young man,” as one girl calls him, carried off the lady from her father’s house, and away they went across the Border to Blackshiels in Scotland, where they were married. It proved a happy and fortunate union, but the example, we need hardly say, is not recommended for general imitation.

=68. What plant was introduced early in the seventeenth century into this country as an ornamental plant, but is now a favourite vegetable?=

We had in view the scarlet-runner bean, which is a native of South America, and was introduced into England in 1633, when “it was at first only cultivated in the flower-garden as an ornamental plant, and it is treated as such by all the early writers on flowers.” Several other plants were named by competitors, and in some cases with a considerable show of reason, but the one we have named is perhaps the most striking example.

=69. Who was the father of English cathedral music?=

Amongst the musicians named by girls as bearing this honourable title were St. Ambrose, Palestrina, Orlando Gibbons, Henry Purcell, Handel, Haydn and Bach. These were given in error. He who is justly called “the father of English cathedral music” is Thomas Tallis, or Tallys, as he himself spelt his name, who was born about 1515 and died about 1585. “His genius,” says Mr. W. S. Rockstro, “has left an indelible impression upon the English school, which owes more to him than to any other composer of the sixteenth century, and in the history of which his name plays a very important part indeed.”

=70. What may justly claim to be the greatest work of imagination in the world?=

This was a question giving an opportunity for considerable difference of opinion. It drew forth many intelligent answers, and gave a good deal of insight into individual taste. We give here the seven principal works named by way of answer, placing them in the order of frequency:—_The Arabian Night’s Entertainments_, _Don Quixote_ by Cervantes, _Gulliver’s Travels_ by Dean Swift, the _Divine Comedy_ of Dante, Spencer’s _Faerie Queen_, _The Pilgrim’s Progress_ of John Bunyan, and Milton’s _Paradise Lost_.

=71. What Scottish sovereign, looking out of the window of the prison in which he was once confined, caught sight, for the first time, of the lady whom he afterwards married?=

The captive monarch was James I. of Scotland. He had fallen into the hands of the English when, a youth fourteen years old, he was on his way by sea to France, and remained a prisoner for about eighteen years. One day he happened to be looking out of his window in the great tower of Windsor Castle, when Lady Jane Beaufort, the daughter of the Earl of Somerset, was walking in the garden below. The charms of her person, and the gentleness of her character won his heart, and they were married with great splendour shortly before James set out for the north to take up his crown. Lady Jane happened to be a cousin-german to Henry IV. of England, “and thus,” remarks John Hill Burton, the historian of Scotland, “romance found the very match which policy would have dictated.”

=72. How many different kinds of clouds may be seen floating in the sky?=

Few failed in this question, the answers going as a rule to show that an observer of cloudland, about a hundred years ago, classified the clouds, and proposed a series of names for them, since very generally accepted. He divided them into seven kinds; three being simple, and four intermediate or compound. The three simple forms are the Cirrus, the Cumulus, and the Stratus. The intermediate or compound forms derived from these three are the Cirro-cumulus, the Cirro-stratus, the Cumulo-stratus, and the Cumulo-cirro-stratus, the last named most often being called the Nimbus.

MEDICAL.

MISS PERT.—We think you are quite right in supposing that your throat is really the cause of your trouble. Deafness is an exceedingly common complication of catarrh of the throat. The ear communicates with the back of the nose through the eustachian tube, and when the mucous membrane of the nose or throat is inflamed, the end of the tube is very apt to share in the condition, and so deafness results. Deafness from this cause is often exceedingly intractable. The treatment of the condition resolves itself into two parts—the treatment of the throat, and the treatment of the ear. Of these, the former is by far the more important. Perhaps it may be necessary to remove enlarged tonsils or adenoids, or to destroy little growths in the nose or back of the throat, or perhaps no such severe measure may be necessary, and the throat condition may yield to medicated applications. We advise you to wash out your throat and nose daily with a lotion made by dissolving one teaspoonful of the following powder in a teacupful of tepid water—of borax, bicarbonate of soda, and chlorate of potash, finely powdered, one part each to three parts of finely powdered white sugar. After having thoroughly washed your nose and throat with this lotion, spray out your throat and nose with solution of menthol in paraleine (1 in 8) used in an atomiser. Having well sprayed, close your nostrils with your hand and blow up into your ears. This last little manœuvre is of great value, for it helps to unstop the eustachian tube, and it carries some of the menthol up into them. When you hear a gurgling during this action, it is a sign that the tube is pervious though not quite healthy. If the tube is quite normal, a single click will be heard in both ears. You want our opinion upon the chloride of ammonium inhaler. Here it is. We thoroughly and absolutely disapprove of it. Theoretically it is all right, but in practice it has been our experience that it does far more harm than good. It is true that finely-divided chloride of ammonium is a very valuable application to diseased mucous membranes. But the reason why the inhaler is harmful is, that it is impossible to obtain chloride of ammonium vapours free from either the vapour of ammonia or of hydrochloric acid. And these do far greater harm than the ammonium chloride can do good.

MOLLY.—We do not advise the biscuits you mention. Of course they are indigestible since they cannot be digested at all! They are occasionally given for wind and tainted breath arising from indigestion, etc., but they are open to grave objections, and we really cannot see their value.

A. G.—We have so frequently detailed the treatment of anæmia that it is not fair to other correspondents to occupy our space, which is very much limited, by going over the same ground again. Look up the back correspondence, and you will find all about anæmia. Do not take quinine and iron, for this mixture is exceedingly indigestible, and anæmic girls must be very careful of their digestions. The best preparations of iron to begin with are dialysed iron, syrup of hæmaglobin, or Robin’s peptonate of iron; the two last drugs are French preparations, and are rather expensive.

DIANA D.—The pain in the left side of your chest may be due to many causes, by far the most likely of which is indigestion. Possibly the illness you had last year was pleurisy.

POPPY.—1. A pale and sallow complexion may either be a natural condition, or else, as is more probable, a symptom of some abnormal state. In anæmia, severe indigestion, constipation, and some more serious affections, a sallow complexion is a common feature. You say you are quite healthy; this excludes most abnormal conditions. But the third mentioned trouble is not excluded by that remark, and as constipation is the commonest cause of a sallow complexion, we think that that is what is troubling you. Just lately we discussed the treatment of this complaint at full length.—2. Do not use any cosmetics. We do not know the preparation you mention, but we strongly dissuade you from using it all the same. The less you have to do with patent proprietary articles the better you will be.

GIRLS’ EMPLOYMENTS.

MARION (_Stewardess_).—You should apply at the offices of some of the principal steamship companies, and inquire whether there is likely to be a vacancy which you might fill. Preference is usually given to women who are related to men in the companies’ employ. Nursing experience is also a strong recommendation to an applicant. Salaries vary from £1 10s. to £3 10s. a month with board, and the gratuities of passengers on first-class lines make an important addition to the fixed payment.

VERITAS (_Addressing Envelopes_).—This kind of work is occasionally given out by the law stationers in London, but it tends to become superseded by typewriting. You must forgive us for saying that your handwriting is not very well adapted for the purpose. It is almost essential to write a neat clerkly hand.

DAISY IN THE FIELD (_Nursing_).—See our reply to “Louise” (April 15). It is rather a jump from the kitchen to the Army Nursing Service, is it not? Still, if you feel that you would make a better nurse than cook, you are right in trying to realise your ambition. We advise you to take the full three years’ training at some large general hospital, and at the end of that time you will be in a position to decide what to do next. District and rural nursing we would commend to your notice, for the poor in our large towns and villages want skilled attendance almost as sorely as wounded soldiers, and have very few chances of getting it.

A SCOTCH READER (_Teaching Cookery_).—Since you cannot hear of a vacancy in Scotland, it might be wise to apply to some of the English educational bodies. We would suggest your writing to the Clerk of the London School Board, Victoria Embankment, and the Secretary, Technical Education Board, London County Council, St. Martin’s Lane, London. Study also the advertisements in such papers as the _Schoolmaster_, _Schoolmistress_, _Church Times_, and the _Guardian_. You might see an advertisement for a cookery teacher in one of those journals. Be careful in applying for a post to make a full statement of your qualifications and previous experience (if any) as a teacher. There is a tendency at the present time to prefer teachers who can give instruction in all housewifery subjects to those who can teach cookery only.

LUCY HOOD, Germany (_Club for Teacher of Singing_).—1. We do not know of any residential club in London for teachers only; but there are many excellent homes and clubs for women who are earning a living in various ways. Among these we may mention the Ilchester Club, Ilchester Gardens, Hyde Park, W. (not intended, however, for professional women exclusively), the Beechwood Club, 6, Oakley Street, Chelsea, and the Y. W. C. A. Home for Working Ladies, 91, Great Portland Street, W.—2. We do not advise you to pay fees to an agent in order to obtain pupils. You should not establish yourself in London unless you have the promise of a pupil or two already. In the musical profession social interest is a great advantage. Then the mothers of your pupils could help you by speaking of you to their friends, and still more by giving an “At Home” occasionally, at which you might sing. London teachers very often give concerts at which their musical colleagues and pupils perform. These concerts usually entail expense, but they are regarded in the profession as valuable advertisements.

MYRTLE (_Writing_).—If by writing you mean copying, you would certainly not earn a living by such means; and if, on the other hand, you mean literary work, you will need to obtain a better education than most girls have at your age of 16½. You can hardly be expected to earn a living without being taught any special kind of work. But many occupations can be learnt without great expense. You could learn, for instance, cookery or dairy-work at some of the County Council classes; or you could be trained as an elementary school teacher, after passing the Queen’s Scholarship Examination. The Post Office branch of the Civil Service is also worth considering, especially as you write a good clear hand, and are fond of any occupation that entails writing. In any case it would be worth while to try to pass the examination. Probably some Board School teacher in your neighbourhood would coach you for it out of school hours, if there is no institution in your neighbourhood that you could attend for the purpose.

MISCELLANEOUS.

SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER.—The passage to which you refer is easily explained (“Put Thou my tears into Thy bottle,” Psalm lvi. 8). The practice of preserving tears in bottles is of very ancient Eastern origin. It was done in Egypt as elsewhere, and it exists down to the present day in Persia. In that country it constitutes an important item of funeral ceremonials, when every mourner is presented with a sponge with which to mop the eyes and cheeks; and after the burial is over, these are taken by a priest, who squeezes the tears into a bottle. These sacred tears of mourners are supposed to possess healing properties, and to be more efficacious than any means of cure for several forms of Persian diseases.

MINKA.—There have been such terrible and fatal accidents from using preparations of petroleum for the hair that it is illegal to employ it in this country. “Koko” is a patent, and of it we have had no personal experience.

A. POODRIDGE.—As we have often told inquirers, “pouring oil on troubled waters” is not a quotation—it is an existing fact; and the use of oil for this purpose obtains at sea. Only a week or two ago oil was employed on the Channel to enable passengers to land.

THRIFTLESS.—We think that the United Sisters Friendly Society would suit you. It was founded some years ago in order to enable women dependent on their earnings to make provision for sickness and old age, and to secure at death a sum of money for burial expenses. All women of good health and character between the ages of sixteen and forty-five are eligible for membership; also the Work and Leisure Court, No. 15. For both of these, address Miss Edith M. Maskell, 7c, Lower Belgrave Street, London, S.W. The names of the Trustees of these two Societies are a sufficient guarantee for their stability and honesty.

KAROLEEN.—If you cannot find the card-game you require at one of the large bazaars, we do not know where else you could look for them. Perhaps the bazaar at which you inquire would endeavour to procure them for you in London.

SLOGGER.—You may find illustrations from photographs of some of the most distinguished men amongst cricketers in some of the recent magazines; but you have only to order any you require at a photograph shop, and they will send you a collection from which you may make a selection.

FLORA.—We could not take the responsibility of recommending any security for the investment of money. We do not think a ground rent could be purchased for so small a sum. The Post Office Savings Bank appears to us the most suitable.

FLUFF.—Do you mean the famous and beautiful Duchess, or her successor? In any case, you can only inquire at one of the photograph shops where the windows are full of notables of every description.

BECKY SHARP.—Fine soft hair can easily be made to lie as you wish; but the coarse, stiff, pigs’-bristle sort can only be forced into place by the use of some sort of bandoline, formerly much in use, especially at a windy seaside place. You had better consult a hairdresser.

TOMUEL, MAB, and others, are very anxious to get rid of the rats which infest their houses, but that their death should be painless. We fear any death by poison would be painful, and so it would be by traps; but then the rats are peculiarly obnoxious, so we have to make a choice of two evils. We are told of an old recipe, viz., half a pint of plaster of Paris, mixed with a pint of oatmeal, is an excellent means of killing them. The best plan, however, is to try to stop up all the holes by which they enter with broken glass and tin, and to keep them stopped. To do this may be more expensive, but it will be more satisfactory, if you have scruples about the cruelty of killing them.

AN IGNORANT ONE.—John Smith. Esq., Mayor of Blackford, would be the proper address. In speaking to him, we believe he is addressed as “Mr. Mayor.” You would write to him as “Dear Sir,” or “My dear Sir,” and after signing yourself, would add below his name and address, “John Smith, Esq., Mayor of Blackford.”

DAISY.—Leave two of your husband’s cards where you call, if the lady be at home; in case of an afternoon party, leave your own and his on the hall table as you go out. White is generally worn for confirmation.

A TROUBLED MIND.—Tell the person who wishes to be engaged to you that you would like to see more of him personally, and so have opportunity for a fuller interchange of thought, and that you think he also should have a better acquaintance with you, before entering into any definite engagement, for fear of disappointment; in the meantime that (with your mother’s sanction) you and he might correspond with a view to render that prospective engagement a wise and happy one. Try some “Berlin black” on your grate.

NEW HOUSEKEEPER.—1. In a general way, house-linen of the best kind is now marked in cross-stitch. It may in the case of table-linen be embroidered in satin-stitch. Marking-ink is used for the commoner articles only.—2. _The Girls’ Own Cookery Book_, price 1s., was issued some years ago, and is an excellent manual.

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

Page 523: Arther to Arthur—“Arthur S. Way”.]