CHAPTER VIII.

MONCKTON MANOR.

“They ought to have asked me too,” said Effie, looking rather black. “I call it quite rude; but these grand county people always are so rude.”

“Oh, but, Effie, I am only going to practise accompaniments! I go to River Street for that, and you don’t mind. Why should you mind this? We never can get those difficult passages right without a proper, long, steady practice, and one can’t get it at the hall. Everybody is wanting their turn; and I get flurried with so much chattering and noise. I thought it such a good idea when Miss Lawrence asked me to come to the Manor.”

“She should have asked me too, then,” said Effie, with a pout. “Not that I care about going. I’m not such a great admirer of May Lawrence or her voice; it’s too low and gruff for me.”

“Oh, not gruff; it’s a beautiful, rich contralto. It’s quite a pleasure to hear her.”

“Oh, you think so because she likes your playing, and butters you up! But, anyhow, I don’t think much of it, and I do say she ought to have asked me too.”

“People know you are delicate; they don’t like to bother you to take long drives,” suggested Sheila pacifically; but Effie was cross and would not be amiable, though she ceased to make complaints about not being asked with Sheila to the Manor.

“How are you going?”

“I thought I would ride Shamrock. Then I should be quite independent. Cyril is going there for a day’s fishing, and he can bring me back.”

Again Effie’s face darkened. She did not say anything this time, but she had a feeling as though Sheila was cutting her out of everything. She was keenly alive to the fact that, though Cyril’s visits were paid more frequently now, it was Sheila who engrossed the bulk of his notice. Effie, with all her tendency to selfishness, fostered by her mode of life, had not naturally an ignoble disposition, and her ideals were high. She fought rather hard against the tide of rising jealousy, and had never betrayed it either to Sheila or to her mother; but the pain of seeing another preferred to herself rankled rather keenly; and during these past days—indeed for a week or two now—it had been hard work to keep down the unworthy feeling.

All the young people of Isingford were keenly excited about the forthcoming effort which was to extinguish the debt upon the two churches. All were eager to help, and Effie herself had been roused to desire to do something. She had practised with new energy, so as to be able to take part in the concert of local talent, and her song was already selected and placed in the programme. But she did not think anybody showed any enthusiasm over her performance. Perhaps her voice had deteriorated somewhat, though nobody said so. She was listened to quite kindly, and her friends said her song would be certain to “go down”; but that was all. Whereas, over May Lawrence’s performance there was a little furore, and she was entreated to sing twice, and was called quite openly the _prima donna_. Effie had not expected that title for herself, yet she was not quite pleased by the treatment she received.

And then Sheila was in such request. Sheila was so popular. It was quickly discovered that, though no very brilliant performer on the piano as a soloist, she had a very pretty gift for accompanying. Her touch was soft and sympathetic; she never played wrong notes, even if she missed the right ones. It became quite the usual thing for the soloists to beg her to play for them, and, as she was delighted to please and very fond of this sort of work, she soon became the acknowledged accompanist of the concert, and a person in great demand.

May Lawrence was one of those who had taken a great fancy to her, and this invitation to Monckton Manor, a place Effie had only seen once upon a formal call, was rather galling to her.

Sheila started out a little depressed in spirits, for she disliked the feeling that Effie was “cross with her.” She was sensitive, like all young things, to the disapproval of those about her, and thought it very hard to be blamed when she had really done no harm. Sheila was for the first time tasting a little of the discipline of life, and she did not enjoy the experience. She wanted it always to be sunshine about her. She liked to be petted and caressed. She was ready to love everybody, if they would only love her. It seemed to her very hard when she was criticised for something that was not the least wrong. It had never been so in old days, and why should it be now?

However, upon her arrival at the Manor House all troubled thoughts were quickly dissipated by the warm reception she met with. May Lawrence met her with a kiss. The two girls fell into Christian names almost at once. The pleasant old semi-Tudor house was delightful to Sheila, reminding her in many ways of her own home. Mrs. Lawrence welcomed her kindly, saying she had heard a great deal about her and her pretty playing, and May took her into the orchard-house and regaled her with delicious peaches before they did a note of practising.

“And we have such a nice visitor here now, Sheila,” she explained, “an old friend of mother’s, though she is not really old—Miss Adene; only she makes me call her Cousin Mary. She had a very lovely voice when she was young, and it’s quite pretty still, though she laughs when I tell her so. She has given me a lot of hints about my songs. She sings little bits to show me how to do it. She must have been splendidly taught herself! Let’s come to the music-room! Perhaps she will come and listen.”

Sheila followed her willingly, and on their way to the house May exclaimed, “Oh, there she is!” and the next minute Sheila was shaking hands with Miss Adene.

Somehow Sheila’s heart went out at once to this stranger lady. She could not say how it was, but she felt at home with her almost immediately; and Miss Adene seemed to take a liking for the big-eyed, soft-voiced Sheila. She asked her questions about herself, gave her hints about her playing, and was altogether so friendly and kindly that Sheila felt almost more at home in this house after two hours than she had done at Cossart Place after two months.

Cyril appeared at luncheon in company with some of the Lawrence sons. They had known each other at Cambridge, and saw a fair amount of one another in the vacation. May was the only daughter; but she had several brothers, and was good at most games herself, and would have liked to play tennis with Sheila, only that her habit was rather against any such plan.

“But you must come another day—you must come often. I have so few girl-friends here. There are not many houses where mother cares for me to be intimate. But I should like to have you for a friend! I hope you will come often!”

“I should like to,” said Sheila eagerly, “but I don’t know if I can. There is Effie! I am supposed to be her companion. I could not leave her very often.”

“I don’t see why not,” said May, with some of the frank and unconscious selfishness of the present-day girl. “You’re not her nurse or her white slave, I suppose?”

Sheila laughed and blushed, and Miss Adene came unexpectedly to her assistance.

“One need not be a nurse or a white slave, and yet one may have duties and little kindly offices to fulfil. The happy people in this world, May, are those who do their duty from a sense of love, and not compulsion; and we idle people must not tempt them away from the place where they are wanted.”

Sheila looked up with a heightened colour to say—

“I’m afraid I don’t always love my duties. Sometimes they seem very tiresome. And I’m sure you’re not an idle person, Miss Adene; but I am very often. Sometimes I think I’m no real good to anybody.”

“Then you must make yourself some good, dear; though I do not think that any of us can quite help being of some service to our friends and fellow-creatures. You have a delicate cousin to cheer up and help back to health and strength; and you must do your best to be kind and patient. And you will soon find how much pleasure there is in such a task, and gain yourself a sister, since you say you have never had one of your own.”

Sheila’s day at the Manor was a very happy one, and she particularly enjoyed her bits of talk with Miss Adene, who promised to help at the bazaar and, if needed, to give some assistance at the glee club, where extra voices were wanted with a view to the coming concert.

May and one of her brothers rode part of the way back with Sheila and Cyril, the girls in front, the young men behind.

“Do you like your cousin Cyril?” asked May with the freedom only possible between quite young people.

“Yes, rather,” answered Sheila. “I liked him very much at first. He seemed more like the people I had been used to, but I think I get rather tired of him. Do you like him?”

“Not very much,” answered candid May. “The boys get on pretty well with him; but they call him rather a bounder all the same.”

“What’s that?” asked Sheila, laughing.

“Well, I’m not quite sure if I know; but it’s not a thing he’d like to be called. What the boys mean about him is that he’s half ashamed of his own family, and the way in which his father has made his money, and that’s always awfully snobbish. Why, to my thinking, the other brother, North, is much more a true gentleman. I despise people who are ashamed of their origin. It is nice to be a landed proprietor and a country gentleman, of course; but there’s no disgrace in honest trade. Why, three of our boys have had to go into business in some of its forms; but do you think they’d be ashamed of it, or that we should be ashamed of them? I should despise myself for ever if I were!”

“Yes, I suppose he is rather ashamed of the works,” said Sheila slowly. “He never would have anything to do with them. I don’t quite know what he does want for himself. Sometimes he talks about the Bar, and sometimes the Church, and sometimes he thinks he’ll take up literature. I suppose he’s clever.”

“The boys don’t think so; he only got a pass, you know. And I don’t think I like men to take to the Church just for a profession. I’ve got a brother a clergyman; but I know how he felt about it before he took Orders. He used sometimes to talk to me. He felt that he had been called; that is a very different thing from choosing for yourself, and shilly-shallying as Cyril is doing.”

Sheila began to see that May, although not much older than herself, thought things out more deeply than she had ever done.

“The boys have always talked to me, you know,” she said, “and Arnold in particular. He is the clergyman, you know. That made one think. It would be nicer to believe in everybody; but perhaps it’s better sometimes to see below the surface. Sometimes I wish almost that something would happen just to try the metal we and our friends are made of. In olden times, when there were wars and dangers, it must have been so much easier to know what they were like; but nothing ever does happen in the nineteenth century—not in that sort of way.”

Nevertheless, a good deal was happening in other ways, and the excitement increased as the time for the bazaar arrived.

The town hall was a spacious building, and it was decorated in an effective fashion with festoons of greenery and paper and tinsel flowers. Some people called it trumpery stuff; but it looked well, and was cheap, and to keep down expenses was one of the chief aims of the assistants.

The bazaar was held in the great hall; but there were two smaller rooms, off-shoots from this, reached by short wide flights of steps, and in these rooms the supplementary entertainments were to be held.

One was a museum of curiosities and beautiful things lent, for which extra admission was charged; the other was given over to entertainments. On the first day there was to be a phonograph and some experiments with electrical apparatus, in which Oscar was to assist. On the second the concert, and on the third some tableaux.

The whole town was in excitement over the affair, and upon the first day the thoroughfares were quite crowded with carriages and foot passengers. Everything went off beautifully. A great deal was sold; the refreshments were excellent, the band good; and the people went away declaring they should come again upon the morrow, which accordingly they did.

The concert was almost the most exciting experience for Sheila—she had so much accompanying to do; but she soon lost her first feeling of nervousness, and forgot everything in the effort to help everything to go well.

It was all a great success. Effie sang her song very creditably, and got an encore; though some people did say it was her father who so stubbornly led the rounds of applause. May’s singing delighted everybody, and the glees went beautifully; Miss Adene was there, kindly and encouraging, giving steadiness to any wavering part by her clear rounded tones, and taking the greatest interest in everything.

Indeed, all the Monckton Manor party had come in force; and they were to appear also upon the next day, for May had a part in several of the tableaux, and two of the brothers also, and they were both very clever and helpful as scene shifters. For everything was done as far as possible by volunteers, and there was no professional aid which could possibly be dispensed with.

The third day was in some sort the grandest, for, though the things from the bazaar were mostly sold off, there was great interest over the tableaux; and there was to be a troop of performing dogs in the great hall for the young folks, since the upper room would not hold everybody, and all must be entertained. Also the tea was to be on a grander scale; and the hall was early thronged with eager buyers and spectators.

There was nothing, perhaps, very original in the tableaux, but they were very prettily got up, and it was interesting to the spectators because they knew the actors in them.

One of the most effective ones was the presentation of the French ambassadors at Queen Elizabeth’s court after the massacre of St. Bartholomew. Effie was the sharp-featured Queen in sable robes, and the stage was crowded by her black-robed courtiers and ladies-in-waiting; whilst Oscar, Cyril, Fred Monckton, and a few more, in their gorgeous frippery, stood evidently taken aback and confounded by the unwonted sight of this evidence of stern woe and regal horror and offence.

The applause for this picture was loud and long, and the curtain was just rising again when in the hush that had succeeded the clamour there penetrated a sound of noise and confusion from the hall below, and then the clear terrible cry:

“Fire! Fire!”

(_To be continued._)

OUR PUZZLE POEM REPORT: AN ACCIDENTAL CYCLE II.

SOLUTION.

AN ACCIDENTAL CYCLE II.

3. _When Bathing._

Should a great wave of the sea Wash you away from the sands, At the back of your head clasp your hands, Remaining as still as may be: You may then with serenity float Until some one arrives with a boat.

4. _Earthquakes._

If you should hear an earthquake’s boom, And see great tumult in your room, Fly to the door and open wide, And stand beneath, whate’er betide: For, though the house be badly rent, You there may safely rest content.

PRIZE WINNERS.

_Ten Shillings Each._

Rebecca Clarke, 130, Newland Street West, Lincoln.

Alison H. Halden, 13, Duke Street, Edinburgh.

Margaret S. Hall, 13, Roseneath Terrace, Edinburgh.

Carlina V. M. Leggett, Burgh Hall, Burgh, Lincolnshire.

Florence Lush, 26, Scotland Street, Edinburgh.

Mrs. Mason, 30, Cambridge Street, Great Horton, Bradford.

Robina Potts, Aln Lodge, Blacket Avenue, Edinburgh.

Isabel Snell, 51, Mere Street, Leicester.

Helen B. Younger, 5, Comiston Gardens, Edinburgh.

_Seven Shillings Each._

Rev. J. Chambers, Woodhead Vicarage, Manchester.

E. M. Dickson, 2, Bank Parade, Preston.

_Very Highly Commended._

Eliza Acworth, Annie A. Arnott, Frances A. Baker, Rose S. Bracey, Louie Bull, Kate Campsall, Amy T. Child, Agnes Dewhurst, Katie Doyle, Margaret A. Fisk, E. J. Friend, Caroline Gundry, Mrs. Jenks, Agnes McConnell, Marie McQueen, Susan F. Manderson, Mrs. E. J. May, Isobel S. Neill, E. A. O’Donoghue, Charles Parr, Nina E. Purvey, Annie Roberson, S. A. Sanderson, Violet Shoberl, Helen Singleton, Mrs. G. W. Smith, R. Majorie Thomas, Eva Waites, Florence Whitlock, Mrs. Wilson, Mrs. A. J. Wilson, Emily M. P. Wood, Agnes M. Vincent.

_Highly Commended._

May Adamson, “Annis,” Edith Ashworth, Alice M. Cooper, M. A. C. Crabb, Edith E. Grundy, Percy H. Home, E. Marian Jupe, Eliza Learmount, John Lush, John Marshall, E. Mastin, Edith A. Newbould, Kate Robinson, Mildred M. Skrine, Frederick W. Southey, Chas. Stephens, Constance Taylor, C. E. Thurgar, Elizabeth Yarwood.

_Honourable Mention._

Maud Abbott, Mrs. Acheson, Eva M. Allport, Agnes Amis, Mary S. Arnold, Rev. S. Bell, S. Ballard, Lily Belling, Isabel Borrow, Margaret E. Bourne, Nellie D. Bourne, Edith Burfield, E. Burrell, R. E. M. Button, A. C. Carter, Muriel L. Clague, Dora Clarke, J. Ethel Collingham, Maggie Coombes, Rev. Joseph Corkey, R. Swan Coulthard, E. Vivian Davies, Mrs. Frank Dickson, Rev. F. Dobbin, Jessie F. Dulley, Winefride Ellison, Eleanor Elsey, A. and F. Fooks, F. Fuller, Annie M. Goss, A. Grainger, Ellie Hanlon, Bessie Hine, Carrie Hine, Gertrude Hire, Ethel W. Hodgkinson, L. Holt, Edith C. Hoon, Arthur W. Howse, Annie M. Hutchens, Lizzie M. Iggulden, “Iseult,” Margaret Jaques, Alice E. Johnson, Edith B. Jowett, A. Kilburn, Clara E. Law, Fred Lindley, E. E. Lockyear, Gertrude Longbottom, Jennie M. McCall, Ethel C. McMaster, M. G. Mill, F. Miller, J. D. Musgrave, Jessie Neighbour, Rev. V. Odom, G. de Courcy Peach, Ernest Plater, Hannah E. Powell, A. O. Prentice, Ellen M. Price, Lucy Richardson, Katherine M. Scott, Ellen Shattock, A. A. L. Shave, A. C. Sharp, Mrs. Sherring, Wm. Dunford-Smith, Norah M. Sullivan, G. Swaine, G. Thomas, Ellen Thurtell, Wm. J. Trim, May Tutte, Mary F. Wakelin, Mabel Wearing, Frances H. Webb-Gillman, Gertrude West, Eleanor Whitcher, Mrs. E. A. Wilson, Adelaide Wright, Edith M. Younge.

EXAMINERS’ REPORT.

Nearly nine hundred competitors tried their skill upon this puzzle, and with such good effect that our award is long enough to excite editorial remonstrance. To make room for it we must cut down our report to the verge of terseness.

Many solvers left out the “An” in the heading. In a way it was only a trifling error, but as it could only be attributed to carelessness, it did not commend itself to our sympathy. It was less wonderful that the unwonted exercise of the hen in the first title was not correctly interpreted by all. Let us say at once that the excited fowl was not “drowning” nor “in danger of drowning;” the water was too shallow. “When in water” was not quite explicit enough either as a title or as an interpretation of the picture. The hen was in a bath, and therefore presumably _bathing_.

In the first line we often found “big” and “large” instead of _great_. It is more customary to speak of big and great waves than of large waves, and we gave slight preference to the former readings.

In the title of the second puzzle a few solvers failed to notice the s and wrote “An earthquake.” It was a pity. Likewise in the first line the s was sometimes missing, and more often the apostrophe. But it was in the fourth line that the real trouble was found. Was the h _under_ the w, or was it _inside_ or was it _outside_? Opinions widely differed, but the majority voted it to be _beneath_, appreciating the sense of the advice in spite of poetic obscurity of expression.

While we were wrestling with the point a learned professor came into our room. We read the lines to him, and asked what impression they conveyed to his mind. Without an instant’s hesitation he threw open the door and stood beneath the lintel, and we returned to our work with much comfort and increased admiration for learned professors.

The advice may seem to be strange to those unacquainted with earthquakes and their ways, but it is based upon wide experience. However great the “tumult,” the framework of the doorway generally affords ample protection.

In the same line “whatere” was sometimes erroneously substituted for _whate’er_. Here we must call attention to the fact that whatever is one word, and that the contraction is one word also.

In very many solutions _tho’_ appeared in place of “though.” On this point one competitor very clearly puts the correct ruling. He writes—“‘Tho’’ for ‘though’ phonetically (as ‘ma’ for ‘may’ in line following). ‘Tho’’ is not admissible, nor any shortenings by an apostrophe of the spelling of a word where, abbreviated or unabbreviated, the pronunciation remains the same.”

In writing, these abbreviations are sometimes used, but they indicate a lack of refinement in style, and are much to be deprecated.

It only remains for us to say that absolute perfection was attained by the first prize-winners, and by no one else. As to the mention lists, those solvers who took the trouble to indent the lines of the first verse, as in the published solution, will find their names in a higher class than those who did not. The rhyming lines of the second puzzle run in pairs, hence no grouping by indentation was necessary.

An expert and critical solver has written a letter about the puzzle, “An Ideal Garden,” which deserves attention. He first contends that he “sent in a perfectly correct solution,” but we have been able to set his mind at rest on that point by returning it to him. He next maintains that in punctuation “the printed solution is wrong.” According to him the first line should read “A garden, like a room, should be,” and not “A garden like a room should be,”.

But it all depends upon the meaning of the lines. In our version it is that a garden should be like a room, it should have a green carpet, and for furniture, a few trees.

In our correspondent’s version the sense is altogether different. It is that a garden should have a green carpet like a room, and we feel inclined to apply to it Euclid’s most popular utterance. And yet indifferent as the reading is, we let it pass, for as we have before remarked, we only take punctuation into account when it is absolutely wrong.

Again, our critic complains of the absence of commas in line 4, which should, in his opinion, read—“And on it, here and there, a tree.” Here we prefer the amended version to that printed, but it is entirely a question of taste and not of accuracy. He further asserts that the note of exclamation can correctly follow either the interjection or “happiness” in line 10. So it can, and our only crime is that we did not print it in both places. Finally he complains that while his solution was not mentioned, some solutions which owed their perfection to his help were more fortunate. The information is no surprise to us, for we have often traced our correspondent’s hand in solutions under another name. He says—“I suppose this is allowable.” It is allowable inasmuch as we have no rule forbidding it, but we do not think that help ought to be asked from a rival competitor. It does not accord with our notions of strict fairness, and a less generously-minded solver would not place his ingenuity at the disposal of his friends.

And this is the way in which we cut down a report!

CONSOLATION PRIZE 1897-8.

The highest number of marks, in accordance with the conditions laid down, was obtained by Mrs. J. Champneys, Croft House, Winchester, to whom one guinea has been sent.

FOREIGN AWARDS.

A WELL-BRED GIRL (No. 2).

_Prize Winners (Half-a-Guinea Each)._

Amy and Ethel Beven, Rose Cottage, Kandy, Ceylon.

Miss L. Gamlen, École Normale d’Institutrices, La Rochelle, Charente Inferiéure, France.

_Very Highly Commended._

Elsie V. Davies (Australia), Elizabeth M. Lang (France), Helen Shilstone (Barbados).

_Highly Commended._

Louis E. Blazé (Ceylon), Nellie M. Daft (Portugal), Frank, Hugh, and Robert Glass (India), Polly Lawrance (Barbados), Mrs. Hastings Ogilvie, Mrs. G. Marrett (India), Winifred Bizzey (Canada).

_Honourable Mention._

Grace Carmichael, Fontilla Greaves (Barbados), Harriet Kettle (France), M. R. Laurie (Barbados), M. E. Lewis (Hungary), Alice J. Moffitt (Switzerland), Gladys D. G. Peacock (France), Anne G. Taylor (Australia), Herbert Traill (India).

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

MISCELLANEOUS.

MABEL.—The term _molto agitato_ means with much emotional feeling. _Allegro_ means quick and lively, but not as fast as _presto_. _Allegro con brio_ means in brilliant style, and _caratteristico_, characteristic of the nature of the subject.

H. L. W.—Sidmouth lies in a valley between the Salcombe and Peak hills, which are each about 500 feet in height, and is built on the shore of a bay extending from Portland to Start Point. The bathing is good in summer, and provisions cheap. The climate is mild and well suited to invalids, and there is generally a fine breeze from the sea, and less rain than in most places on the Devonshire coast. Altogether we should regard it as a very suitable holiday resort at Easter. A great many pleasant excursions may be made in the near neighbourhood.

ULRICA (The Hague).—The grey parrot, or “jaco,” of Guinea, and other hot parts of Africa, takes a foremost place amongst the various species of its family for intelligence, docility, and healthfulness. Perfect cleanliness is essential for them. The perches should be thick and smooth, and so should be also the ring suspended from the top of the cage where they swing and roost. Their food consists of any kind of seed, grain, and nuts, bread and milk, and Indian corn well boiled and given cold. They also have a little ripe fruit, a bit of sugar, plenty of clean water, and the food trays should be of crockery or porcelain, or of thick glass—not tin nor zinc. Clean gravel is necessary. Give no meat nor pastry.

ELSIE.—In the upper ranks of society the rule is for the lady to retain her seat when a gentleman bows or offers his hand. Of course, there may be exceptions in the case of a little girl in her “teens” and an aged man.

RETHA.—It is very grievous that you should have engaged yourself to marry a man whom you did not love with more than a feeling of ordinary friendship. But it would be the less of two evils to confess your state of feeling, rather than to allow him to marry a woman who felt so cool towards him. Do not deceive him, however humiliating your own position. Better that he should suffer the disappointment before the irrevocable step is taken, which must result in a life-long regret.

A. H. P.—Your writing is so illegible we can scarcely decipher the names about which you inquire. Pronounce as Mar-ca-sis, Hal-lay, Jo-a-kim, Mas-con-ye, Tcha-e-kofs-key. In Russ and Polish the “w” is pronounced as our “f.”

WILD ROSE (Broisla).—A _centimetre_ is 0.39371 of an inch. This correspondent wishes to correspond with an English and an Italian girl, so as to improve herself in their respective languages.

OPHELIA.—To make meringues, whip the whites of six eggs till very firm; mix three-quarters of a pound of the finest icing sugar with them. Fill a tablespoon with the mixture as quickly as possible, and put on a strip of white paper placed on a baking board. Repeat this process rapidly till all the meringues be made, and sift fine sugar over them; then, without loss of time, place them in the oven, the heat of which should only be sufficient to dry them, and brown them very slightly. When firm, remove them from the papers, and with great care scoop out from the inside as much as you can without injuring the case. Then place them on fresh strips of paper, the hollow side uppermost, and let them remain in the same moderate heat till perfectly crisp. When cold, fill one case with whipped cream, place another over it, and if necessary to keep it in position, use a very little white of egg. If to be flavoured with vanilla, it should be added before commencing to whip the whites of eggs; thirty drops of the extract would probably suffice. The filling with thick cream should not be done until just before serving as the moisture might dissolve them.

M. HOWARD.—The name “Chloe” is pronounced Klo-e, and “Lois” as Lo-iss.

MISERABLE.—You had better give up all thought of marrying. You are not likely to make any man happy. If you marry at all, it should be the man you have so dishonourably jilted. He might go to law, and oblige you to pay for your breach of promise.

SNOWDROP.—We give you a recipe for sponge-cake from the first authority. Stand a large bowl in a _bain-marie_ of hot water. Put in one pound of powdered sugar, break twelve eggs into the bowl, whisk quickly; remove the bowl from the _bain_, and continue whisking till quite cold. Sift in one pound of flour, add the chopped rind of a lemon, mix with a wooden spoon. Butter a mould or baking dish, and put in a sprinkling of flour, knocking out all that does not adhere to the butter; pour in the mixture, and place it in a moderate oven for about an hour, and when done it will feel firm to the touch. Perhaps the best plan for ascertaining the state of the cake is to run a slight wooden skewer into the centre. If insufficiently baked some of the mixture will adhere to the skewer; if done, it will come out clean. When ready for use, turn the cake out on a sieve to cool. Whatever recipes you have hitherto tried that failed, we doubt any disappointment in the present case.

OUR NEW PUZZLE POEM.

⁂ PRIZES to the amount of six guineas (one of which will be reserved for competitors living abroad) are offered for the best solutions of the above Puzzle Poem. The following conditions must be observed:—

1. Solutions to be written on one side of the paper only.

2. Each paper to be headed with the name and address of the competitor.

3. Attention must be paid to spelling, punctuation, and neatness.

4. Send by post to Editor, GIRL’S OWN PAPER, 56, Paternoster Row, London. “Puzzle Poem” to be written on the top left-hand corner of the envelope.

5. The last day for receiving solutions from Great Britain and Ireland will be July 17, 1899; from Abroad, September 16, 1899.

The competition is open to all without any restrictions as to sex or age.

OUR SUPPLEMENT STORY COMPETITION.

ONLY A SHOP-GIRL: A STORY IN MINIATURE.

FIRST PRIZE (£2 2s.).

May Shawyer, Penrith.

SECOND PRIZE (£1 1s.).

Mabel Gibson, Wandsworth Common, S.W.

THIRD PRIZE (10s. 6d.).

Lucy Bourne, Winchester.

_Honourable Mention._

Rose Cooke, Lowestoft; Lily Chamberlain, Forest Hill, S.E.; Letitia E. May, Alton, Hants.; Kate Betts, Kemp Town, Brighton; Mabel Jenks, Cambridge; Kate Nora Norris, Stoke Newington; Elsie Olver, Brockley; Bessie Hine, South Tottenham; Jane Bailey German, West Bromwich; Ethel G. Goulden, Finsbury Park Road, N.; Jessie Elizabeth Jackson, Beverley; Relda Hofman, Fontenay-sous-Bois, France; Maggie Bisset, Aberdeen; W. Bruin, Greenwich; Jessie Middlemiss, Ripon; Laura Johnson, Richmond, S.W.; Edith Alice Hague, Stockport; “Little Nell,” Lincs.; Violet C. Todd, Cornhill-on-Tweed; Winifred Botterill, Driffield, East Yorks; Mabel Moscrop, Saltburn-by-Sea; Margaret W. Rudd, Anerley; Jessie H. Hughes, Croydon; May Adele Venn, West Kensington Park, W.; Gertrude Borrow, Goldhurst Terrace, N.W.; Jessie Aitchison, Wandsworth, S.W.

⁂ The publication of the Supplement Stories is in abeyance at present in order to afford our readers an opportunity of acquiring those stories already issued. The first story, “A Cluster of Roses,” by Sarah Doudney, is now in its third edition, and is published at 3d., and in cloth 6d.

SUNDROPS,[3]

Our Extra Summer Number, is now published (price 6d.), and our readers must order it at once from their booksellers, if they wish to possess a copy, as the Number cannot be reprinted.

CONTENTS.

_Frontispiece: Sweet Summer Eve._

=Ivy.= A Short Story. By the Lady DUNBOYNE, Author of “The Three Old Maids of Leigh,” etc.

=Offers of Marriage.= By ISABELLA FYVIE MAYO.

=On Perfection of Position for Girl Cyclists.= Fully Illustrated. By Mrs. EGBERT A. NORTON.

=In the Red Days of the Terror.= A Story in Four Chapters. By MARIA A. HOYER, Author of “A Trick for a Trick.”

=How I Won my Bee Certificate.=

=Little Tapers.= By the Rev. FREDERICK LANGBRIDGE, M.A.

=Bound for Life.= A Story. By GRACE STEBBING.

=The Cuisine of Foreign Countries.= By a Traveller.

=June-Time and Roses.= A Poem.

=Gipsies.= Song and Chorus for Girls’ Voices. By ETHEL HARRADEN.

=Two Noble Women of Hawaii.= By SUSAN E. PINDER.

=How to make the most of Life.= By C. E. SKINNER.

=The Forest Princess.= A Short Story. By MARY E. HULLAH.

=Autobiography of a Perambulator.= By ANNE BEALE.

=Rachel.= A Rustic Idyll. By ISABEL S. JACOMB-HOOD.

=A Seaside Holiday.= By CLOTILDA MARSON.

=What the Hollyhocks and Lilies Saw.= By GERTRUDE PAGE.

=Three of Shakespeare’s Heroines.= By C. H. IRWIN.

=There is Plenty of Room on the Top.= A True Story. By ADA. M. TROTTER.

=The Quaint and Grotesque in Embroidery.= By FRED MILLER.

=To the Golden City.= By HENRY FINCH-LEE.

=Swimming for Girls.=

=Olive Digby’s Ordeal.= By HELEN MARION BURNSIDE.

=“Who’d have thought it!”= By ELEANOR C. SALTMER.

=New Puzzle for our Extra Summer Part.=

=Varieties.=

=Household Hints.=

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Evening primrose (_Œnothera fruticosa_).