CHAPTER XXI.

BROTHERLY COUNSEL.

“Oscar, now that we are alone, now that nobody can interrupt us, I want to talk to you about my plan.”

Sheila’s face was flushed, her big eyes were sparkling. She looked less the child, Oscar thought, and more the woman than when he had seen her last. He had been struck by this when he first saw her on board the boat. He had thought the same thing many times that day as the thundering express bore them from Plymouth to London. Now they were alone in Sheila’s room in the hotel where they were to spend the night. A big fire blazed on the hearth. The curtains were drawn, and brother and sister were alone together. The rumble in the streets below made a ceaseless murmur, but it was different from the rattle and roar of the train. They could talk at their ease now.

On the way up to town Sheila had poured her whole history into Oscar’s ears, and had heard the story of his own trouble at home, and the shadow which rested upon him. She had not said much, there had been no excited outburst such as he had expected. Perhaps the presence of other people in the carriage was a check upon her, or perhaps she had learned something of the lesson of self-control and reticence.

Anyway she had been unwontedly quiet during the last hours of the journey, and Oscar, who had felt very weary after his long hasty night journey down to Plymouth, had dozed in his corner. But now, after their arrival here, after their substantial meal below, they had come upstairs for a confidential talk which had been impossible before.

“Oscar, I have thought it all out. It came to me first on ship-board, even before I knew anything about you and what had happened in the office. (Why didn’t you tell me in your letters?) I made up my mind then and there that I would never, never, never live at Cossart Place again. Aunt Cossart has behaved infamously to me. She has tried to spoil my life and make me always wretched and miserable. I will never forgive her. I will never see her again!”

Oscar looked straight at his sister, but said nothing, for Sheila was proceeding with her old impetuosity.

“You can’t understand what it was like there. Even Mrs. Reid understood and was indignant. Oh, yes, I know she was, by the little things she said, though, of course, she would not say much. Everybody knew. I feel as though I could never bear to see any of them again. She is a hateful woman. The Barretts told me how furious people were with her when they knew she was going to send me home. Everybody guessed why—that was the horridest part of it. And I had been so happy. Everybody was so kind, and I had to go without even saying good-bye, but I felt I couldn’t—I couldn’t! The Barrett girls declared they believed everybody would cut them for it. I’m sure I hope they will! Oh, I can’t help being angry—I can’t indeed!”

“Sheila dear, don’t get excited,” said Oscar soothingly. “I can understand that it was very hard. It is very hard to be misunderstood, and to have things put down to us that we know we have not done, but we have talked over all that before. Tell me about this plan of yours.”

“Oh, yes. Oscar, you will be twenty-one soon, won’t you?”

“Yes. What has that to do with it?”

“Everything, for you will have command over our money then.”

“Yes; at least over my half, anyway, perhaps over it all. But it is not much, Sheila.”

“I know it is not; but it is enough to make us a little home. Now listen, Oscar, for I have it all planned out. You shall go on at the office if you must, because it’s something to do, and Uncle Tom has been kind in a way, though if he suspects you—however, we won’t talk any more about that. But we won’t go on living with the Cossarts any more, I’m quite determined on that. We shall have enough to have a little home of our own, even if it’s only a lodging; and you will go to the office, and I’ll try and get some music pupils, or little children to teach in the mornings, or something to help. And I’ll keep our home as nice as possible, and we’ll have cosy evenings together, and we’ll have nothing to do with the people who have behaved so badly to us. Oh, I don’t mean that we’ll cut them or anything, but we won’t go on living with them and eating their bread. I couldn’t possibly dream of going back to Cossart Place ever; and they don’t want me at Uncle Tom’s, and besides, how could I go on living in the same house with that Cyril? I can’t think how you can do it, Oscar, I really can’t.”

Sheila leant forward with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. Oscar was leaning back in his chair, his face a little in the shadow. Sheila had been struck on first seeing him with the sharpened look of his features, and the tired expression in his eyes; the same thing struck her again more forcibly at this moment, although she spoke no word of it.

“Say you think it a nice plan, Oscar, for I’m sure you do!” she cried eagerly.

“No, Sheila, I don’t think it would do,” he said slowly.

“Oh, Oscar, what do you mean? I’m sure it would. We should be so happy together, you and I. And it’s often so horrid being with people who misunderstand us. I think we’ve had enough of that. Oh, don’t say you won’t think of it!”

“I am thinking of it, Sheila, I’m thinking hard, for I hate to thwart you; but I don’t think it would do, and you would find that living in a very small way, and trying to earn something yourself, are two very difficult matters for people brought up as we have been.”

“But, Oscar, we should belong to ourselves and each other. We should be free from those horrid things that happen in other people’s houses.”

“But we should have other troubles and worries to face, Sheila. And do you know, I think it would not only be very ungrateful to our relations to take ourselves off like that, but I think it would be very bad for us ourselves.”

“Bad for us? I don’t understand.”

“I think it is always bad for people to rebel too much against the life which—well—which God seems to have arranged for them. Sheila, don’t you think that in the old days you and I had rather too much of our own way?”

“I never thought about it—did we?”

“I think so. Everything was made so smooth for us, and we had so few battles to fight. I sometimes think it might have been better for us if we had had more. Sheila, take my case; it is true I know nothing about this lost money, but in one sense the fault is mine. I always did the thing that was the easiest and pleasantest at the moment, though North warned me again and again that my easy-going ways were slovenly, and might lead to confusion and worse. I never quite believed him, and never seriously tried to conquer my tendencies, and you see what has happened. Whoever is to blame, the thing could not have been but for my fault.”

“Well, I think that’s a very hard way of looking at it; but what then?”

“I have not quite finished, Sheila; I want to talk about your case. It has been something the same with you, little sister. You have always liked to drift along easily with the current, doing what was pleasantest at the moment. If people were kind and made you welcome, you responded to all their overtures, without always stopping to think what Aunt Cossart would like, or if it were quite considerate to Effie. They were quite small things, but little by little they made trouble; and then came this great storm which has made you so miserable. You were not to blame, as I was; I don’t think you were ever warned, and it was difficult for you to see from day to day how things were going; but I think perhaps, Sheila, we have both been selfish in our own way, and have not thought enough——”

“You’re not selfish, you’re not careless,” cried Sheila interrupting excitedly. “I only wish I were one quarter as good. Oh, Oscar, I do believe I have been selfish, though I never meant it. I never thought of such a thing. We have always been used to being happy—to have people like us. It seemed so natural. I didn’t mean any harm.”

“No, Sheila, I am sure you didn’t; but you know life is not given to us just to enjoy for ourselves. We must try and think of other people too, to put them first. It is harder for you than for some, because father always spoiled you; and everybody likes you, and you are so pretty and fascinating.”

But Sheila jumped up and put her hand upon his lips.

“Don’t, Oscar! I don’t want to be praised; I begin to feel that I have been rather naughty and selfish, though I wouldn’t believe it when my conscience pricked now and then. I was wrong to be so furious with Aunt Cossart. Sometimes it made me a little frightened—when I wanted to say my prayers—and didn’t know how to get out ‘Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive—’ Oh, Oscar, I don’t think I’ve forgiven Aunt Cossart yet. Suppose there had been a storm, and the vessel had sunk! How dreadful that would have been!”

“You will forgive everything, Sheila, when you think about it a little more. When we begin to understand how many faults we have ourselves, we see that we must forgive, we can’t help it. Everything seems to sink out of sight except the thought of His forgiveness of us, and what it cost to win it.”

Sheila suddenly fell upon her knees before Oscar, and looked anxiously into his face. It was seldom indeed he had spoken to her quite so openly. A quick thrill of anxiety ran through her.

“Oscar, have you forgiven Cyril?”

“Yes,” he answered in a low voice. “Indeed, sometimes I think it is he who has to forgive me more than I him. For remember, Sheila, it was my carelessness that put in his way the opportunity—suggested, perhaps, the temptation. When I think of that, I feel that it is I who need the forgiveness.”

Sheila looked awed at the thought suggested—that terrible thought so often overlooked and set aside, that not alone to ourselves do we sin and do amiss; but that in some way or other our comrades and friends may become involved in our wrong-doing.

“‘_Sic vos non vobis_,’” quoted Oscar in a dreamy fashion. “I begin to understand those words, Sheila, as I never did before.”

“But it is rather dreadful, Oscar; it makes it seem as though our sins went on and on so!”

“Yes, that is what I want to understand better. Our sins are forgiven, but the effects of them so often go on and on. We must think of that, too, Sheila; it will help to make our faults hateful to us. It will make us more patient when we have to bear blame that we do not quite merit; for how much more blame do we deserve than we ever get!”

Sheila was silent a long time, looking up into Oscar’s face.

“And my plan?” she asked tentatively.

“Would be a selfish one,” answered Oscar quickly, “for it would hurt the feelings of our relations; and I think it would be a shirking of the discipline of life, which we both stand in so much need of, Sheila!”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do. It would be very much pleasanter for us to have a little independent crib of our own, where we should be able to indulge ourselves and each other, and get away from all the little frictions of life in a family where things are not done quite in the way we have been used to. But it would be like running away from what seems to have been given us to bear; and I expect we should find we soon had a big new crop of worries and bothers, quite as big as the old ones. So I think, Sheila, we will not force things ourselves. We will go back to Uncle Tom’s, and wait and see what turns up. We will both try and be patient, and do what is right, never minding whether or not it is what we like best ourselves. We must try and learn the lesson of not pleasing ourselves always. You know Who set us the example of that?”

Sheila subsided upon the floor, and laid her head on Oscar’s knee, taking his hand between hers.

“You are getting so good, Oscar,” she said, “I am almost afraid of you. You are not ill, are you?”

“Ill? No. Why do you ask?”

“Because you don’t look well, and when people are so very very good, one sometimes fancies they are——”

Sheila paused, and Oscar said with a little tone of mirth in his quiet voice—

“I am not going to die of goodness yet, Sheila! You need not be afraid on that score.”

It was with a good deal of shrinking that Sheila prepared to face the Cossarts on the morrow. She knew that they would by this time have received the letter her aunt must have written, and that Mrs. Cossart would not have drawn her picture with a very strict regard to truth. She would have thought more of justifying her precipitate action than of anything else; and Sheila was terribly sensitive where Ronald Dumaresq was concerned, and felt as though any mention of his name would be worse than the cut of a whip. And her cousins were not sensitive on these points. They would be almost certain to cross-question her and make a joke of everything.

It needed all her courage and resolution to face the meeting; but when they drew up at the door and were met by Ray in the passage, it was not of Sheila’s sudden return that the whole house was thinking. Indeed Ray only gave her a rather hurried kiss, warm and sisterly, but distinctly hasty, and then turned to Oscar and took him by the shoulders, bringing him into the strong light of the window.

“Oscar, how are you? Are you sure you feel well?”

“Y—yes, all right, just a little tired with all the travelling, you know. But what do you ask for?”

“Oh, we are in such a fright. Typhoid fever has broken out in the town. The little office-boy you have been visiting so often has it; and everybody was saying that you were looking ill. Five cases are reported to-day, and they say there will be more. You are quite sure you are well, Oscar? Sheila, did he eat his breakfast this morning?”

“He hardly ate anything either last night or to-day,” cried Sheila, in sudden anxiety. “He has a bad headache. We thought it was from the long journey.”

The girls stood looking at each other in dismay. The same fear was in both hearts. Oscar turned from them and began climbing the stairs with a strange languor in his movements.

“I think I’ll go to my room,” he said, “but don’t bother, I shall be all right there.”

“He’s got it!” cried Ray, under her breath; and Sheila turned white to the lips.

(_To be continued._)

OUR PUZZLE POEMS: AN ACCIDENTAL CYCLE.

FOREIGN AWARDS.

AN ACCIDENTAL CYCLE I.

_Prize Winners (Seven Shillings Each)._

Polly Lawrance, Elridge, Belle Ville, St. Michael, Barbados. Mrs. G. Marrett, Hyderabad, Deccan, India. Helen Shilstone, Ellangowan, Fontabelle, Barbados.

_Very Highly Commended._

Ethel Beven (Ceylon), Nellie M. Daft (Portugal), Katy Donaldson (France), Hilda Jonklaas (Ceylon), M. R. Laurie (Barbados), H. Low (Canada), Florence Stephenson (Cape Town).

_Highly Commended._

Sadie Barrat (Canada), Louis E. Blazé (Ceylon), Elsie Davies (Australia), L. Gamlen (France), Clara J. Hardy (Australia), J. W. W. Hogan (Penang), Josephine E. Jones (Portugal), Jessie Mitchell (Canada), Gertrude E. Moore (New Zealand), L. O’Sullivan (Rangoon), Mrs. Talbot Smith (S. Australia), Mrs. Sprigg (Cape Colony), Mrs. Waddington (Bermuda).

_Honourable Mention._

Mrs. H. Andrews (Canada), Maggie Glasgow (Australia), Mabel C. King (Canada), Mrs. Hastings Ogilvie (Deccan), Mrs. W. T. Moore (Bengal), G. Waterstrom (Australia), Gladys Wilding (New Zealand).

* * * * *

AN ACCIDENTAL CYCLE II.

_Prize Winners (Seven Shillings Each)._

Elizabeth M. Lang, 17, Rue Bayard, Pau, France. Maude Saunders, Ascott House, Church Street, Abbotsford, Melbourne. Helen Shilstone, Ellangowan, Fontabelle, Barbados.

_Most Highly Commended._

M. Browne (India), Clara J. Hardy, Edith Hardy (Australia), Agnes L. Lewis (Switzerland), Elsie M. Otheman (New York), Mrs. Coupland Thomas (California).

_Very Highly Commended._

Sadie Barrat (Canada), Florence L. Beeckman (New York), Elsie Binns (New Jersey), Rose Creed (Lille), Nellie M. Daft (Lisbon), Elsie N. Davies, Maggie Glasgow (Australia), Susan H. Greaves (Barbados), J. W. W. Hogan (Penang), Anna I. Hood (France), Josephine E. Jones (Portugal), Hilda Jonklaas (Ceylon), F. G. B. King, M. R. Laurie, Polly Lawrance (Barbados), H. Low (Canada), Elizabeth MacPherson (Australia), Gertrude E. Moore (New Zealand), James Roberts (Jamaica), Mrs. Rose (India), John S. Sutherland (Antigua), Annie G. Taylor (Australia), M. A. Thomas (California), Gena Thomson (Australia), Mrs. Waddington (Bermuda), G. Waterstrom, Elsie M. Wylie (Australia).

_Highly Commended._

Mrs. H. Andrews (Canada), Florence E. Bapty (India), Hilda T. Batten (New Zealand), Winifred Bizzey (Canada), Madeleine Bonzel (France), Mrs. H. Campbell (Demerara), Grace Carmichael (Barbados), Lillian Dobson (Australia), Clara Downs (Barbados), Emily H. Glass (India), Annette M. Gray, Ruby Guest (Australia), L. Guibert (Mauritius), Gertrude Hunt (New Zealand), May Koenig (Germany), Clara Lapata (Brussels), Sarah Lewis (South Africa), Mrs. G. Marrett (India), Jessie Mitchell (Canada), Lottie Moore (Australia), L. O’Sullivan, Hilda D’Rozario (India), Mrs. Sprigg, Florence Stephenson (South Africa), Emily Suttaby (Canada), Ada F. Sykes, Lucie K. Thompson, Herbert Traill (India), Ethel M. Wilson (New Zealand).

* * * * *

AN ACCIDENTAL CYCLE III.

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

Elsie V. Davies, Wheatland Road, Malvern, Victoria, Australia. Edith Lewis, 200, De Grassi Street, Toronto, Canada.

_Very Highly Commended._

Jessie Arthur (New Zealand), Mrs. H. Campbell (Demerara), Florence Deeth (France), Maude Gibney (Switzerland), Clara J. Hardy, Edith Hardy (Australia), Mabel C. King (Canada), M. R. Laurie, Polly Lawrance (Barbados), Mrs. Manners (India), Gertrude E. Moore (New Zealand), Mrs. E. E. Murray (Australia), Helen Shilstone (Barbados), Mrs. Talbot Smith (S. Australia), Emily Suttah (Canada), Ada F. Sykes (India), Annie G. Taylor (Australia), Mrs. Waddington (Bermuda), Mrs. J. Whitton (Tasmania).

_Highly Commended._

Florence E. Bapty (India), Rose Creed (France), Emily H. Glass (India), Ethel L. Glendenning (New Zealand), Louise Guibert (Mauritius), Gertrude Hunt (New Zealand), J. W. W. Hogan (Penang), Nellie M. Jenkinson (Australia), Hilda Jonklaas (Ceylon), May Koenig (Germany), Elizabeth M. Lang (France), Clara Lapata (Brussels), Mrs. G. Marrett, Mrs. Hastings Ogilvie, Hilda D’Rozario (India), Maud Saunders (Australia), John S. Sutherland (Antigua), Lucie K. Thompson (India), G. Waterstrom, Jessie M. Webster (Australia).

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

TRAINING IN HOUSEWIFERY.—“_As a regular and appreciative reader of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER, I have become much interested in the question of higher grade housekeeping. I have obtained the consent of my parents to enter a home to be trained. Would you kindly furnish me with the addresses of some establishments where training is given?_—KATE.”

“Kate’s” determination to equip herself thoroughly for the duties of housekeeping, is a most wise one. The girl who is trained in all departments of domestic work can turn her knowledge to account in every situation in life in which she may be placed, and is never likely to find the problem of earning her bread a difficult one. “Kate,” doubtless, knows already the National Training School of Cookery and Domestic Economy, Buckingham Palace Road. This institution is principally intended for the training of teachers, and we judge from “Kate’s” letter that in her case a school would be preferred that trains girls specifically for domestic employment. A School of Housewifery and Domestic Science of this kind has lately been established in connection with the North Hackney High School for Girls, at 101, Stamford Hill, N. “Kate” would be well advised to visit this school and see the classes at work. In the country are many excellent schools. Good housewifery training can be obtained at several institutions in the country. The following are all well recommended: Belsize House, Brunswick Square, Gloucester, in connection with the Gloucestershire School of Cookery and Domestic Economy, principal, Miss Florence Baddeley; Camp End School for Household Training, near Malvern, conducted by Miss Buck and Miss Brander; Fryerne School of Household Management, Fryerne, Caterham, principal, Miss Mitchell; and the Wiltshire School of Cookery and Domestic Economy, Trowbridge, secretary, Miss A. Bridgman. At each of these institutions, resident pupils are received, and the course of training consists not only of cookery, but of household work generally.

BOOK ILLUSTRATION.—“_I have taken lessons in drawing and painting for five years, and except for holding a second-class certificate instead of a first in one subject, I have gained the art class teacher’s certificate. Just lately I have been taking lessons in black and white work, and should like to become a book-illustrator._—J. L. R.”

We do not wish to damp the hopes of “J. L. R.,” but it takes much more than lessons in the technique of black and white drawing to make a book-illustrator. Girls who become successful illustrators show early a real talent for drawing. They can not only copy an object before them, but they can express in a few strokes certain clever, effective, or humorous ideas, which are born within their own brain. Without the possession of this rare gift, we could not advise a girl to turn her thoughts towards book-illustration or even towards drawing of any kind, if it is necessary for her to earn money by it. All the best illustrators, fashion artists, designers of covers, etc., seem to be agreed that an artist cannot be taught much more than the principles of drawing, but that everything else must be acquired by the individual through constant study and thought. No doubt the beginner is much helped by observing good illustrative work, and even by trying to copy it. It is also a good plan to enter for some of the competitions which are held by the editors of the art magazines. We would, however, seek to dissuade “J. L. R.” from becoming a teacher of art, as it is most difficult for all but the most gifted women to obtain permanent employment as teachers of drawing and painting alone.

_A correspondent, E. A. E., asks the association connected with the words “Quo vadis?”_

When the persecution under Nero first broke out in Rome, the tradition runs that St. Peter was persuaded by his friends to flee from the city. He was hurrying along the Appian Way, when suddenly he was encountered face to face by his risen Lord. In amazement he asked, “_Domine, quo vadis?_” (Master, whither goest Thou?) “I go to Rome,” was the answer, “to be crucified afresh.” “But, Lord, wast Thou not crucified once for all?” “I saw thee fleeing from death,” replied the Master, “and I go to be crucified in thy stead.” Abashed at the implied rebuke, St. Peter turned again, cheered by the Divine utterance, “Fear not, for I am with thee.” A little church now marks the legendary site of the interview. This beautiful story is given by Origen, and is also found in the “Acts of Peter and Paul” in _Apocryphal Writings_ (Ante-Nicene fathers).

ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.

GIRLS’ EMPLOYMENTS.

MARY H. C. (_Stewardess_).—The position of stewardess is not easy for a girl to obtain who has no connection with steamship companies. The companies usually prefer for these appointments the widows or daughters of employees. It is not also a position for which quite a young girl would be thought eligible. We think your parents are very wise in desiring you to know a trade, as an employment of this kind can always be practised; but there is, as you say, the difficulty that many trades which girls can adopt are of a sedentary character, and might not suit you for that reason. How would you like dairy-work? This is a good business to know, as girls who can take charge of dairies or teach dairy-work are often wanted. You could be well taught in the Reading Agricultural College (where you might also learn poultry and bee-keeping), at the County Council Dairy Institute, Worleston, near Nantwich, Cheshire, or at the Midland Dairy Institute, Kingston, Notts. Laundry-work also is a most remunerative business to anyone who has been trained for the post of manageress in a steam laundry; but as you are not very strong, this might not prove a desirable occupation for you.

BLACKAMOOR (_Companion, etc._).—1. You are one of our quite young readers, we divine, and so perhaps will not take it amiss if we observe that your spelling is a trifle weak; but as you write carefully this will doubtless soon be improved. When you are older, we think you will give up the idea of becoming a lady’s companion, and think it rather a poor employment. Some girls make themselves valued in this capacity, but they are young women who understand household duties thoroughly, and can, as the expression goes, turn their hand to anything. But we should like you to try in preference to do some one thing well, in particular, as this is the more useful faculty nowadays.—2. Your second question shows that you have the laudable ambition of a true Scottish girl to become well educated. You aspire to obtain a “bursary,” or, as we call it in England, a “scholarship,” at some school whence you could eventually proceed to Girton. The St. Leonard’s School at St. Andrew’s is a particularly good one. We advise you to write to the Principal, asking her whether any bursaries are offered by the school for which you could compete. You could also obtain some useful preliminary instruction through the St. George’s Oral and Correspondence Classes, of which the secretary is Miss S. E. Murray, 5, Melville Street, Edinburgh. Pupils are helped in home study through these classes, and also prepared for the Edinburgh Local Examinations.

K. L. (_Journalistic Work in China or Japan_).—China would offer no field for journalistic employment to girls of nineteen, and is almost the last country to select. Japan would be much safer, but we doubt whether it would offer much field for journalistic work. If you wish to become a journalist, surely, as your home is in Canada, it would be much wiser to try the United States. You could at all events obtain journalistic experience there, and a few years later you would be in a better position to judge whether the East could offer you congenial employment. No doubt if you did not require to earn money, it might be quite possible to gratify your wish for Oriental travel; but as this is not the case you would only be encountering insuperable obstacles by trying at your age to introduce Western ideas concerning girls’ employment into the East.

DOLLY VARDEN (_Telephone Clerkship_).—You wish to know at what age girls can be received into a telephone office. The National Telephone Company accepts girls between the ages of seventeen and nineteen. Their height, it is stipulated, must be not less than 5 feet 3 inches. They must bring with them two letters of recommendation and a doctor’s certificate. Good education and pronunciation are also demanded. Clerks are engaged on a monthly agreement, and are received at first on probation without payment, and afterwards at 5s. a week for half-time, namely four hours a day. When engaged for full time, that is, eight hours a day, less time for luncheon and tea, they are paid 5s. a week, rising by 1s. a week yearly to 15s. Promotion to higher and better paid work is accorded to suitable girls in order of seniority. We rather fear that the complaint from which you have suffered might prove to be an obstacle in your way, as the duties of a telephone clerk entail much standing.

MAY DÉSIRÉE (_Telephone Clerkship_).—See reply to “Dolly Varden,” in which we have dealt with this employment fully.

TOPSY (_Stewardess, etc._).—1. Positions as stewardess are only to be obtained through the steamship companies; but would it not be wiser, Topsy, to remain a dairy-maid as you are at present? A girl who knows dairy-work is useful in all parts of the country and colonies, and has a far better chance of earning her living, if she loses a situation, than a stewardess out of place.—2. Used postage stamps have no value.

MEDICAL.

FELICITAS.—You cannot be too careful about the baby’s bottle. We suppose the bottle is of value, but it is responsible for so much suffering and illness of infants that we really doubt whether we would not be better without it. There are two forms of baby’s bottles, the old-fashioned torpedo-shaped bottle, clumsy, troublesome, and inconvenient, but withal possible to clean, and necessitating careful feeding, and the newer “Alexandra” bottle, convenient, no trouble, æsthetic, but impossible to keep clean, and allowing carelessness in feeding the infant. Never use the new bottle—it is quite impossible to clean india-rubber; the bottle gets dirty, sour milk collects in the tube, the child gets dyspepsia, and may die simply from a dirty bottle. You must not let a child suck at the bottle at all hours of the day and night, “just to keep it quiet and allow its mother a little rest.” Children must be fed regularly. The habit of giving children things to eat or suck to keep them quiet is responsible for a vast number of deaths and lives of misery and uselessness. Indeed, it is not too much to say that this pernicious practice of giving babies something to eat or drink to prevent them from crying is more fatal to infants than all the infectious diseases from which they suffer put together. You must keep the bottle clean, and immediately after use rinse it out with boiling water, and keep it soaking in boracic acid solution, and again rinse it out with hot water before using it.

BONNIE.—1. The reason why it is easy for you to breathe through your nose during the day, but difficult to do so at night, is that the recumbent position causes the mucous membrane of the nose to become congested. The nose always becomes congested when the person is lying down, but the amount of obstruction varies very greatly even in health. Of course, in the absolutely healthy condition, the congestion is never sufficient to prevent breathing through the nose. But a very slight cause may make nose-breathing quite impossible at night. The best treatment for such conditions is an extra pillow and a nasal spray of menthol in paraleine (1 in 8). Even in health it is the rule to breathe through the nose and the mouth after severe exertions.—2. A hair-wash of quinine, rosemary, and cantharides, is a good preparation to prevent the hair from falling out, that is, it is as good as any other hair-wash. Of course, nothing whatever applied to the hair itself can have the slightest influence on its growth. The remedy must be applied either through the blood or to the hair roots in order to be effective. Quinine often causes headache if taken internally; applied externally it would not have this action. It would not darken the hair. Try borax or very dilute carbolic acid (1 in 1000) to wash your hair with.

MOLLY.—By the “eye tooth” is usually meant the canine or “dog tooth,” the third in order from the middle line of the mouth. By some persons the first molar or first double tooth in the upper jaw, or the sixth from the middle line, is called the “eye tooth,” and with greater reason than the canine, for the first molar is more connected with the eye than is the canine. Extracting the canine tooth is of no more danger than extracting any other tooth, but as its root is rather long, it is a little more difficult. There are thirty-two teeth in the adult jaw, eight on each side of both upper and lower jaws.

HESTER.—You object to our statement that eczema is a local disease, and is not usually dependent upon the state of the blood, because you feel ill when you have an acute attack of eczema and are relieved by internal treatment. But this does not affect our statement that eczema is a local disease due to a local inoculation, and is not due to disease of the blood. We suppose you will admit that a severe burn is a local injury, and that that, at least, is not due to “something in the blood.” Well, often in a severe burn the constitutional symptoms are desperate. We may have to confine all our attention to the heart and nervous system at first when treating a severe burn. But still we maintain that the burn is a local injury, and by local means alone can the burn be made to heal. And so with eczema. Here is a local disease, but the constitutional symptoms may be, although they very rarely are, severe. And occasionally they do need internal treatment. But no internal treatment will cause the eczema to heal without external aid. The treatment for all local disease must be local, although internal medication may be required as well.

A COUNTRY LASS.—Wild honey is often poisonous. That made by bumble-bees is usually harmful, giving rise to severe headache, purging, and vomiting. Xenophon, in his _Anabasis_, accurately describes the effects produced upon his soldiers by eating wild honey, probably made by bees from the Pontic azalea.

E. F. T.—Try an ointment of ichthiol (2 per cent.), and a wash of carbolic acid (1 in 100). You must be very careful that the carbolic acid does not get into your eyes and mouth.

STUDY AND STUDIO.

⁂ We may remind our subscribers that there are in connection with the Royal Academy of Music, Tenterden Street, Hanover Square, London, W., twenty-one exhibitions and scholarships, which in most cases entitle the winners to three years’ free instruction at the Academy. The next election for the Henry Smart Scholarship is for female candidates, and will take place at the Royal Academy of Music on Monday, September 25th, 1899. The subjects of examination will be organ-playing and composition. The John Thomas Welsh Scholarship will be competed for on Friday, September 22nd, 1899. Full particulars of these and other scholarships can be obtained of the Secretary, Royal Academy of Music.

SEA-FOAM (Chefoo, N. China).—Many thanks for your modest and interesting letter. We regret the delay in offering criticism upon your poems, but can now say that they are very thoughtful, and are not marked by any of the blemishes in construction which we have often to point out to our correspondents. Blank verse, however, is a difficult medium for the novice, and we think “The Rainbow” is your most successful effort. The idea expressed in “Influence” is very good. On p. 2 you use “e’en yet” and “still” together. Only one of the expressions is necessary. You also use “lives” and “endeth” with the same nominative. You should either say “liveth” and “endeth,” or “lives” and “ends.” Never let your words be obviously shaped by the length of a line. “An unspoken thought” is striking. We should advise you to study the laws of versification, and to persevere, selecting some other metre, to begin with, than the ambitious blank verse.

ONE BY ONE.—We repeat our apology to you. Your sketch of Teddie is pathetic, but shows, as you yourself observe, that you have not studied the laws of composition. On the first page there are far too many “ands,” and it is better not to write of “the joyous little birdies with their bright plumage and their sweet, sweet notes.” (We do not think that the English song-birds are remarkable for gay plumage.) You should procure Dr. Abbot’s little book _How to Write Clearly_, and read a good deal of good prose and poetry.

LOUISA GREGORY.—You need to study writing and spelling before you attempt to compose stories. We advise you daily to copy some extract for the sake of learning to spell, and also to practise writing in a copy-book, to teach you to form your letters correctly.

INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE.

MARIQUITA, aged 14, wishes to correspond with a French girl about her own age, each writing in the other’s language; the letters would be corrected and returned. Address, 33, Hawthorn Bank, Marslands Road, Sale, near Manchester.

A BUSH GIRL, Queensland, Australia, would like to correspond with “AN ANXIOUS ONE” and “ARMENIAN SWEET SEVENTEEN,” Smyrna. Will they forward us their addresses for “A BUSH GIRL” to see?

MISS GERTRUDE DICKSON, King Street, Bangalore, Mysore, India, will be glad to correspond with Miss François. We published the latter’s address, so Miss Dickson might have written direct. She is a collector of stamps; and, if Miss François has found a correspondent—which is probable—would be glad to hear in English from any other reader of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER.

A PROPINQUER, who collects foreign view post-cards, would be very glad to exchange some with “O MIMOSA SAN,” if she will send her address.

MISS QUEENIE CLARKE, Hillside House, Rawtenstall, Manchester, would like to correspond in French with MISS GIGIA RICCIARDI (March).

LIZZIE VAN REES, aged 17, Hilversum, Holland, wishes to correspond with GRETE FROMBERG, Berlin, and with an English girl of her own age.

MISS EDITH WOGAMAN, Curra Creek, _viâ_ Wellington, New South Wales (19), wishes to correspond with “MISS INQUISITIVE” or another “nice girl.”

MISS KATE PROUT, Bolarum, Deccan, India (19) would like an English girl to write to her at once, and “hopes they will be great friends.”

MISS BEATRICE MILLER, 2, Talbot Villas, Prince’s Road, Buckhurst Hill, Essex, would like to correspond with a French girl. She is fond of painting, but backward in French. Letters should be corrected and returned.

JANET and GRACE COUPER, aged 16 and 14, would like to correspond and exchange stamps with girls in the West Indies, India, Holland, and Central America. Address, Te Waikaha, Havelock, Hawkes Bay, New Zealand.

MISS DAISY BOUVERIE (18) would like to correspond with an American young lady. Address, 514, Commercial Road, Landport, Portsmouth.

MISS NICHOLLS, Laburnum Villa, Leamington, would be pleased to correspond with an Italian lady interested in art, science, or literature—both writing in Italian.

MISCELLANEOUS.

INSECTO.—The beetles have been so crushed that it is not easy to say absolutely what they are. But we think there can be very little doubt that they are _Anobium domesticum_, a wood-boring beetle very common in old houses. The boring is, of course, the work of the larvæ, which are believed to take often three years to come to perfection and change into the pupæ—the little round holes being the open ends of their galleries. Canon Fowler says, “They may, to a great extent, be got rid of by the application of benzine, with which a small quantity of carbolic acid has been mixed;” if they have bored into furniture which is delicately polished, “the benzine had better be applied alone. Unpolished furniture would be best freed from the pest by immersion in boiling water, if the articles are not too unwieldy to admit of such treatment. Moderately strong carbolic acid will at once destroy both grubs, eggs, and perfect insects, but the furniture to which it is applied will require re-polishing.” As the query is as to the destruction of floor-boards, we should think the carbolic acid would not be difficult.

AN IMPOVERISHED ONE.—We know of nothing to remove the black marks, unless French chalk may answer the purpose. Scrape a little on them at the back and try.

DOLLY.—The smoking of your lamp may be prevented by a little more effort at thorough cleanliness. Take out the wick, soak it in vinegar, dry it well, and cut it exactly straight. Wash the lamp in soda-water, and when you fill it with oil, put a few little pieces of camphor in the latter, as this will improve the light. To whiten the dirty-looking boards, use newly-slaked lime—one part—and three parts of white sand. Another method is to apply moistened fuller’s earth thickly over the stains, and, after about twenty-four hours, rub it in gently, and then clear it off. A third plan is to lay chloride of lime on the boards, damp it frequently, and then wash them well with soda-water.

BIRDY.—We quite sympathise with you in the feeling of indignation aroused at seeing the quantity of little skylarks that cover the counters of poulterers in London. Much is said, and great efforts are made, with reference to the slaughter of birds for bonnet decoration. But women’s vanity is not alone to be censured for the destruction of birds with beautiful plumage. The larks and thrushes and other singing birds find a market to supply the tables of men’s clubs. It was calculated some time ago that upwards of 40,000 skylarks were sent up from the country every day during the season, and before long, at this rate, the little bird which called forth the genius of Shelley, Wordsworth, and others of our poets, and inspired such exquisite odes, will become a rare specimen amongst our native songsters. The law should be a stringent one against the destruction of any songster.

M. G. G.—Return the withdrawal order to the Head Office in London if you wish it to be cancelled. Address the letter “Savings Bank, G. P. O., London,” unstamped, saying you wish it to be cancelled. Many thanks to the Parochial Nurse.

HARMONY.—We should think that a daily paper would be the best for your advertisement. That is where people usually look, we believe. Very few take an exclusively musical journal unless extremely interested in the subject.

J. NELSON.—We see no reason why you should not give your clergyman a parting present, though it is difficult to say what it should be, unless we knew to what part of the world he was going. Something simple and useful is generally the best. Hairbrushes in a case, a box of nice soap, some handkerchiefs, an old-fashioned housewife well filled, half-a-dozen bedroom towels marked in embroidery; all of these would be useful. But you could ask some intimate friend to tell you exactly what he needed, and you might get a good suggestion in that way.

CURIOUS.—The observation you have made respecting the retreat of the glacier at Grindelwald is quite correct. Some years ago the distance to be ascended to reach it was not nearly so great as it now is. But this is not an isolated case. The gradual retreat of the glacier is general, and in proportion the higher limit of vegetation is coming down. The rhododendron, which formerly ranged up to 2,350 metres some twenty years ago, now reaches only to 2,000. M. Martin ascribes this change to the fact that there is less snow, and less protection against the cold in winter, and less moisture during the heat of summer. The vines do not grow as high as formerly. The mountaineers do not reside at such altitudes as they once did.

A. R.—The stork is a fatal enemy to snakes, and indeed so are all the birds of the marshes, for they check their prodigious multiplication. It is true that snakes may be perhaps a little repulsive in appearance, but they perform great services in the economy of nature, for they make incessant war on the worms and insects which abound in the slimy mud of the swamps in which they generally make their abode. The storks always make their nests on roofs and chimneys.

F. Q. M. J. E.—When a widow marries again, she certainly requires wedding-cards, and she would put the name she bore during her first marriage on her cards, and not her maiden name, unless under peculiar and exceptional circumstances.

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 October 16, 1899; from Abroad, December 16, 1899.

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

* * * * *

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

Page 767: county to country—“country to select”.]