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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..93e1d1d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52314 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52314) diff --git a/old/52314-0.txt b/old/52314-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 97fbca5..0000000 --- a/old/52314-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8915 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Nooks and Corners, by J. (Jane) E. (Ellen) Panton - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Nooks and Corners - being the companion volume to From Kitchen to Garret - -Author: J. (Jane) E. (Ellen) Panton - -Release Date: June 12, 2016 [EBook #52314] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOOKS AND CORNERS *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - - NOOKS AND CORNERS - - PRINTED BY - SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE - LONDON - - [Illustration: A French Window] - - - - - NOOKS AND CORNERS - - BEING THE COMPANION VOLUME TO - - ‘FROM KITCHEN TO GARRET’ - - BY - - J. E. PANTON - - AUTHOR OF - ‘BY-PATHS AND CROSS-ROADS’ ‘THE CURATE’S WIFE’ ‘A TANGLED CHAIN’ - ‘COUNTRY SKETCHES IN BLACK AND WHITE’ - ETC. - - _ILLUSTRATED_ - - London - - WARD & DOWNEY - - 12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN - - 1889 - - [_All rights reserved_] - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - -I. MOVING HOUSE 1 - -II. HALLS AND PASSAGES 23 - -III. NOOKS AND CORNERS 48 - -IV. THE BILLIARD-ROOM AND LIBRARY 84 - -V. SHALL WE DO AWAY WITH THE NURSERY? 99 - -VI. THE GIRLS’ ROOM 113 - -VII. COMING-OUT AND DRESS 133 - -VIII. CHRISTENINGS AND WEDDINGS 153 - -IX. ABOUT THE BOYS 172 - -X. SOME DOMESTIC DETAILS 190 - -XI. THE SICK ROOM 209 - -XII. WHERE SHALL WE GO FOR A CHANGE? 227 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -A FRENCH WINDOW _Frontispiece_ - -FIGS. PAGE - -1. HALL ARRANGEMENT 25 - -2. OAK BUFFET 28 - -3. STAIRCASE WINDOW 40 - -4. A LONDON LANDING 41 - -5, 6. HALL WARDROBES 44, 45 - -7. A SUMMER CORNER 53 - -8. A WINTER CORNER 60 - -9. ARCHES FOR A DOUBLE ROOM 63 - -10. SIMPLE MANTEL DRAPING 66 - -11. A RECESS 69 - -12. A DRAPED PIANO 72 - -13. CONSERVATORY DOOR 74 - -14. FRILLED CHAIRS AND SOFA 81 - -15. AN EMPTY NURSERY 103 - -16. BOUDOIR-BEDROOM 121 - -17. AN IDEAL KITCHEN 205 - - - - -NOOKS AND CORNERS. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -MOVING HOUSE. - - -I have been asked by a great many readers of ‘From Kitchen to Garret’ to -produce another book on the ever fascinating subject of household -management and house decoration; and I have been furthermore requested -to consider Edwin and Angelina from another standpoint, and to regard -them as having increased their borders in more ways than one, and, -having become richer and at the same time more numerous, as now -beginning to move from their small house, furnished so joyfully and -hopefully in the early flush of their married happiness, to one larger -in every way, and more suited to their present income and growing -family. - -I confess that I begin my task with just a little diffidence, and a -little misgiving, too, and feel just a wee bit as sad over the beginning -of this little volume as I know my young couples must feel when, no -longer quite as young as they were, they turn their backs on that dear -little first home, and take up their abode in the newer, far more -convenient habitation, welcomed so joyfully by the children, who declare -that now, and now only, they will have room in which to breathe! - -For, successful as ‘From Kitchen to Garret’ is, and many as are the -friends I have made through its pages, I am rather doubtful about -another book on the same lines; still, I can but do my best, and so, -without any more forewords on the matter, I will at once plunge into my -subject, and will trust that all those who have made their little houses -pretty by either following or improving on the hints given in my first -book will not disdain to follow me once more into those Nooks and -Corners of house-furnishing and house-keeping, which were deemed too -ambitious for my young couple, or were forgotten in the first essay on -the subject. - -Besides which, as life goes on, I am thankful to say that decoration -becomes more and more a fine art. - -Formerly people rather scorned the idea of being ‘house-proud’ in the -same manner in which all are nowadays. Their house-pride was merely -expressed in the amount of gilding compressed into a single room; in the -thickness of their carpets, the heaviness of their draperies, and the -general costliness of the plenishing, and the amount of money these -things had cost was far more often spoken of than anything else; while -the name of the upholsterer was mentioned, not as a guarantee that taste -and skill had been called into action, but as a proof that money in this -case had not been an object. Formerly, did I say? Alas! cases still -exist of this heavy and depressing style of thing! Money is poured out -like water on carpets that are nightmares, and on papers that are as -absolutely meaningless as they are ugly, and the despair of anyone who -is called in, as I am constantly, to mitigate the horrors of some -gigantic monument of bad taste and lavish expenditure. - -And then, too, people are still, as a rule, far too timid, and act far -too much in a hurry; they believe far too much in the upholsterer, and -far too little in themselves; and above all they cannot get out of the -terrible English habit, carried through every single department in life, -of buying a thing because they admire it, and not because it suits what -they already possess, thus marring at every step their chances of having -a home which is always a pleasure to inhabit, and a restful refuge from -the cares and toils of life. - -But it is to assist the timid and those who lack confidence in their own -tastes, and furthermore who may live in distant country places, where -nothing new penetrates even in these days of parcel-posts and -illustrated newspapers, that I am writing this book, and wrote ‘From -Kitchen to Garret,’ and therefore I must not scold but rather encourage -those who would add to the beauty of their surroundings, but do not -quite know how to set about it: and I am most anxious that there may -soon be no house anywhere in England that may not have some claim to be -considered beautiful or interesting or pretty; for indeed there is no -reason why the humblest among us may not have a charming home, as -certainly, if he or she have taste, money nowadays is not a barrier -between beauty and the public at large. Therefore when any among my -readers makes up her mind that it is absolutely necessary that a move -should be made, the first piece of advice I would give her is that she -should determine on her future locality, if not on the abode itself, -before she is driven from her first house by the lapsing of a lease or -the necessity of deciding immediately because a tenant is forthcoming -for house number one; for if not, she may find herself forced into an -uncongenial neighbourhood or into a house that has every unpleasant -quality under the sun. Above all she must be prepared for a certain -amount of acute misery, mental, at any rate, if not physical, for there -is something about one’s first married home that one can never really -replace, and that renders our fitting into our new locality only a -little less torturing than inhabiting a new skin would be, were we -suddenly forced into one. - -Personally I am not one bit sentimental; I never cried over a faded -flower, or lay awake weeping bitter tears over an unhappy love-affair: I -never had one, I am thankful to say. Neither have I hoarded first shoes, -snippings of baby curls, nor indeed anything save my wedding-dress, -which is a most valuable ‘property’ for characters and private -theatricals of all kinds; and therefore I am considered absolutely -lacking in ‘fine feelings,’ and unhampered by ‘nonsense’; but I have -never yet become reconciled to the moves we have had to make after our -first twelve years of married life, and I much doubt now if I ever -shall; I certainly shall not until I make move number three, and what is -perhaps the most curious point in the whole business is that I did not -like the house, nor the town, nor indeed anything much about it, and -yet I can never see certain looks in the sky, scent certain odours, -without being transported to dear dull Dorsetshire, and without longing -in a curious home-sick way for the marvellously lovely range of the -Purbeck hills, which haunts me like a dream, and for which I am -convinced I should positively pine, had I the smallest touch of -sentiment in my composition. - -The house itself was most wretchedly inconvenient, the furniture of over -twenty years ago--aye, and some of it over fifty years ago--does not -bear thinking about in these æsthetic days. I endured dullness such as -only a London girl, plunged suddenly into an atmosphere she could not -comprehend, much less assimilate, could experience: we had three years -of unspeakable worries; and yet, with it all--with its hideous rooms and -its cold and ugly passages, its out-of-the-worldness, and its unpleasant -associations--there is something about it that no other house can ever -hold, and that causes me often and often to dream I am there again, or -that makes me hear sometimes on a quiet night the old sound of the -sudden clash of the china closet door, the opening of the door at the -top of the kitchen stairs--which, I believe, has been taken away now by -desecrating hands, and which had a sound all its own--or that causes me -to wake suddenly from sleep to wonder at the late return of phantom -waggons and ghostly horses over stones that are hundreds of miles away -from our present uncongenial abode, and which caused sounds inseparable -from thoughts of those dear dead days--days I would have back this -moment if I could, if only to live them over once more in a manner a -thousand times better than an inexperienced girl could ever do, and use -then the experience one buys at such an enormous cost because one will -not listen to words of wisdom from those who have lived so very much -longer in the world than we had then, and which is useless now, because -one sees all too late what one might have done for others. - -These experiences and reminiscences of mine may seem out of place here, -but they really are not. I shall in this book, as in my last, speak only -of what I have experienced; and I am so convinced that when house-moving -is done heartbreak must ensue that I dwell upon this aspect of the case -in order that the first house may not be left capriciously, but only -because it is absolutely necessary to go elsewhere. - -I have always felt myself, unsentimental creature though I am, that a -house absorbs some of one’s own personality: that the very walls we warm -with our breathing, living selves, and among which we spend our lives, -and allow ourselves to be ourselves without any company veneer, must in -some measure become impregnated by our vitality. You may, for example, -re-paper and re-furnish your room, but in a very short time that room -looks exactly like you once more, and becomes again in a week or two--a -month, at most--part and parcel of your own individuality. But leave -your house, and, if you can muster sufficient courage to do so, go and -call on the next inhabitant, and you will see in one moment what I mean. -The very room is altered. Your successors may have kept your -decorations, taken off your ‘fixtures,’ and gone on the very same lines -as regards furnishing and arrangement as you did, but it will not look -in the very least like you, and you will not believe you are in the same -room in which you have spent so many happy and unhappy hours. At first, -therefore, in any new house you have not only to adapt yourself and your -furniture to it, but you have by your individuality to imprint yourself -on the very fabric itself. - -The last owner’s individuality fades at once; I have seen few empty -houses that do not look precisely like something dead: the body is -there, but the spirit is absent. And there is a blank awful chill about -such a house that penetrates one’s very soul and depresses one in an -extraordinary way; but it takes some time to reanimate the body, and, -indeed, in an unloved atmosphere I question if it is ever done. Some -folk the house won’t have at any price, and there are one or two places -I wot of that are blank still, because uncongenial people have them and -are incapable of living up to them properly; they put just the wrong -draperies in the windows, wrench the doors round into the wrong places, -and finally have hung the very worst colours on the walls, and, indeed, -have treated it in such an inconsiderate way that it never responds, and -remains silent, angular, unsatisfied, dead, as long as those people -remain within its shelter. - -Angelina, when she really must move therefore, must remember to think -over all these details. - -I envy everyone myself who has a really inherited house--a house which -has absorbed the family atmosphere for centuries, that has never been -passed from hand to hand and from family to family until it has no -recollection of who built it or what it was built for; a house for which -it is an intense and real pleasure to plan improvements, to deck as one -would deck a child of one’s own, knowing that what we spent on it or did -for it would benefit and please not only ourselves but those who are to -come after us. Yes; hopeless Radical as I am in everything else, I am -Conservative indeed in the house I would have if I could; but in these -days of progress, when most people grow rich, and many only use their -dwelling-place as a shelter, and don’t think of it as a home, I am -constantly being pained to see retired city men and lawyers--the two -classes which become really wealthy, taking over the delightful places -which once owned ‘county families,’ and ruining the society round with -their ostentation and the ridiculous airs only found in suburban places -where ‘society’ so-called consists of ‘twopence three-farthings looking -down on twopence,’ while the poor houses themselves are ruined too by -utterly inappropriate furnishing and by decorations suitable only for an -ordinary ‘mansion,’ furnished by giving _carte blanche_ to some -enterprising and advertising tradesman. - -Should Angelina have made her first home in the family dwelling-place, -she will never have to learn what moving house really means. She can -allow her roots to sink as deeply as she likes into the kindly soil, and -she can make it all as charming as she will, because she will know that -all she does will only benefit her own; but as there are indeed few -nowadays who can contemplate this (for even the absorbers of the old -places round London never think of the generation behind them, and often -and often cut up the land for eligible building sites, with as little -compunction as one cuts up a cake at a school-feast: only taking care it -shall go as far as it can), we need not dwell on this aspect of the -case, but on the one that should be the motive of this chapter, namely, -moving house. - -If you are tolerably happy in the neighbourhood you know, pray take my -advice and remain there; there are sure to be discomforts of some kind -or other in any locality. I have never yet come across anyone who was -perfectly satisfied with his or her belongings; certainly I have never -met anyone who had not bitter complaint to make about the special -locality he or she inhabited, and yet who did not ruffle up their -feathers the moment any stranger found fault with it. But a -neighbourhood is like a house, and requires locally knowing; and if we -are for ever changing our neighbourhood, we can never feel at home -anywhere. - -No doubt it is an unfashionable idea nowadays, this clinging to one -place; but I think, if more consideration were given to the subject, -life would be much better than it is at present, for far more good can -be done by those who are able to help their poorer neighbours, should -they remain year after year in the same place; for they are thus enabled -to know them thoroughly, to sift the deserving from the hopeless, and -finally to interest themselves in such a way in the real life around -them that the place in which fate has placed them is in some measure -better for their having made their home there. And this cannot be done -satisfactorily by mere birds of passage, who have no ‘vested interests’ -in the place, and are ready to be off at a minute’s notice, just because -they think a change would be nice. - -And once having made up your minds that a change of house is imperative, -I advise you to ponder seriously and at great length over the pros and -cons of a residence in the same neighbourhood, before finally -determining to plant your roots elsewhere. I think what makes a -residence in the suburbs almost unendurable is this mania for change, -for we no sooner begin to know people there and like them than we find -they are becoming uneasy; they fancy the place is unhealthy, someone has -been rude, the nicest people have not called--as if the nicest people -ever did rush to call without introductions of some sort or other--and -they are off impatiently before they have entered into the life of a -place they condemn ruthlessly because they do not really know what it is -like. - -How long does it take to know a place? Well, if you are lucky enough to -go there with really good introductions, I should think six months; if -you know no one, and are dependent on chance, or the vicar of the -parish, you may never know it at all; but, in ordinary cases, and where -people have had their edges clipped by really good society, you ought to -know quite as many people as you wish to in about three years. - -Therefore, if you have begun your residence in the suburbs, and have a -nice church, a nice doctor, and nice friends, stay there; you don’t know -how deeply your roots are planted until you begin to drag them up. If -you are a Londoner, on no account be persuaded by artistic accounts of -country delights to leave your beloved pavements and the exquisite -freedom of a town life and surroundings: and if you are born and have -lived among cabbages and roses--if you love the country, and can -interest yourself mildly in the continual changes that are going on -around you in your neighbours’ houses and the cottages round -about--remain there; and be thankful for tastes which are innocent if -they are circumscribed, and often result in a far nobler life than that -made up mostly from excitement and dissipation; because anyone who can -and will live cheerfully in the country, making work for the labourer, -and employing folk in pure air, and in decent habitations, does much -more for the human race than he wots of, and should be encouraged to do -so in any manner that one possibly can. - -I am often being told that the country is a far cheaper place to live in -than London; but I have tried both, and I know better. In the first -place, in London you can do precisely what you like, and, provided your -likes are not openly eccentric, no one will interfere with you. You can -have ten friends or ten thousand acquaintances. You may wear one dress -as long as it will hold together, and no one will doubt your -capabilities of being respectable because of your shabby attire. You may -get up when you like, go to bed when you like, need not give to any -charity if you are not charitably disposed, need not keep a carriage, -because you can at any moment hail any vehicle, and go anywhere you -like; and, above all, can be so easily amused, and at so cheap a rate, -that one need hardly put down ‘amusements’ in our schedule at all. - -Now in the country we must have some sort of a carriage if we wish to -get outside our own immediate neighbourhood and mix with our -fellow-creatures; from the humble ‘four-wheel’ of the farmer’s wife, -and the curate’s donkey-cart, to the landau, waggonette, or smart little -victoria of the other richer folk: all must have some other means of -progression than would be afforded by one’s own legs. Our incomes are -common property, and, should we have two new dresses in the course of -the year, are a prey for all those dear creatures who spend their time -in being charitable on other folk’s money. We must have a garden, and we -obtain a scant supply of worm-eaten fruit, inferior flowers, and -out-of-season vegetables, at a price for which we could have obtained -the very best stores of Covent Garden--for by out-of-season I don’t mean -that our pears and asparagus come before their time, but considerably -after the period when they have become cheap in the market in London; -and, finally, we cannot be amused without half ruining ourselves by -constant rushes to town, by subscribing largely to Mudie, and by taking -in every newspaper we can lay our hands on if we are readers, and if we -are fond of finery, by sending for constant new garments, not because we -want them, but because we really want to see what is being worn. Of -course rates, rents, and taxes are much less in the country; but rent in -London is less than it used to be, and in unfashionable neighbourhoods -is not too exorbitant; but even with the rent considered, I still -maintain one can live more cheaply in London than elsewhere, and can -most certainly live longer there and far more pleasantly. - -So I do most strongly advise country mice to remain country mice, unless -they make the change very young; and I implore town mice to cling to -their pavements, for nothing short of a residence for generations in the -country can teach one how to live under the microscope which is put over -one the moment a stranger goes into the country to live, and nothing -save being born to it could ever reconcile one to having one’s most -intimate personal concerns discussed at the bar of every public house, -over every shop counter, in every parlour, as they are discussed in an -ordinary rural place, or to having one’s most innocent speeches repeated -until one would certainly not recognise them, did they return to us -after their last repetition. - -I declare that twenty years of residence in and about the country have -never reconciled me to all this, or caused me to take the profound -interest in my turn in my neighbours, in the way that aborigines do to -reconcile and repay themselves for their own sojourn under the -microscope, and which a country born and bred individual takes as -naturally as he does his absence from the theatres, and his utter lack -of interest on any other topic than the ever-absorbing one of ‘who is -going to marry whom,’ or who is not, and what the curate’s last baby was -called, and why that special name was selected; and, therefore, I never -lose an opportunity of warning the ducks to remain in the pond, and the -hens in the farmyard where they were hatched, for I am quite sure my -experience is not a solitary one by any means, and has often been the -fate of those who went into the country because no one warned them that -the delights thereof were mere snares and delusions, and who would give -anything to return, only they cannot afford another move. - -And I have no doubt that the country mice are as miserable in the town -in their turn: they miss the intimate conversations, the familiarity of -their friendships; they pine for fresh air, and weep over ‘smuts;’ the -noise and bustle we love so dearly bewilders and distresses them; they -object to putting on gloves and a bonnet whenever they go out, resent -being unable to ‘run in’ at any moment to their acquaintances, dread the -streets, see disease lurking at every corner, in every glass of milk, in -each vestment fresh from the laundress, and, pining away, become pale, -ill, and wretched, and put it down to London, when really the misery -lies entirely in themselves. - -Have I said enough to show my readers that when they are contemplating a -move they should do their utmost to remain in the same neighbourhood, or -at all events in one with the main workings of which they are in a -measure familiar? I think so; and if at the same time I tell them to -remember the church where their children were christened, the doctor who -helped them over so many hours of pain and trouble, and finally the -friends they made--and old friends should never be given up on any -account whatever--I believe they will see that a change even for the -better has always its trials, and that a great many things should be -considered before up-rooting takes place, and a family is landed in an -entirely new locality, that, be it as nice as it may be, has its own -interests, in which the new-comer has neither part nor parcel, and its -unwritten laws and small rules of etiquette, which are as rigid as they -are incomprehensible to an outsider. - -I think in every neighbourhood there should be also some agent to send -out lists of all the pros and cons, the ins and outs of a neighbourhood, -which should show you at once the number and styles of the different -churches, the state of society (it could be ‘young,’ ‘army,’ ‘lawyers,’ -or anything almost), the schools, the advantages and disadvantages, and, -in fact, all the particulars one wants to know. They should truthfully -and in confidence give one all the required information, and then one -would not run the risk of making mistakes. But as this seems impossible, -a residence for a short time in a furnished house (one’s own house could -in turn be let to some one who wants to investigate our neighbourhood) -should be indulged in. A very few weeks would inform us of all we want -to know; for even if we did not become acquainted with one soul -personally, we should have looked at the people and taken stock of their -windows, from which I think one can always learn so much, and can -quietly make our own inquiries about schools, churches, and the rest of -the vital points of interest about a new residence, and come as quietly -to the conclusion as to whether the neighbourhood will suit us or not, -before going to the expense of moving and decorating to suit ourselves -and our belongings--an expense which once incurred often binds us hard -and fast to a place from which we would give our ears to remove. - -Then comes the question of the house. This should be large enough to -take all the family and allow for any possible additions; but at the -same time Angelina will have to remember that when the boys are at -school there will always be a room for a friend, and therefore the -question of spare rooms is not such a vital one as it was. She will also -have to legislate for the girls’ own room--probably a room for a -governess, though a resident governess should be avoided unless the -house is a good size, and unless she is an absolute necessity. There is -the schoolroom to think of, and she must contemplate--perhaps -ruefully--the nurseries, with an eye to adapting them to another -purpose, when that saddest of all days comes when we cannot deceive -ourselves into believing a nursery is any longer necessary, and we have -to turn our backs on our youth and the dear small child-inhabitants at -the same time. A house without a nursery is never as joyous or lively as -one that possesses such a room, and it’s no use trying to believe this -to be the case. Still it is equally of no use to set apart the best room -in the house for that most pleasant of all chambers, if there is no -chance of nursery children, and if all are merged into the young -gentlemen and ladies, who are fast growing up and eagerly longing to -launch their boats on the sea of life for a cruise of their own. - -When the house is positively and actually selected and the move -imminent, when the lease is signed and the decorations are in train, the -first step to take is to get several estimates from firms who are -accustomed to do nothing else save move furniture. In nothing does price -fluctuate so much as it does in these estimates, and when we moved from -Dorsetshire to Shortlands there was actually and positively a difference -of 100_l._ in the highest and lowest of the many estimates we had, the -person selected being just 100_l._ lower in his price than the man who -made us our first offer. - -To move luxuriously we should have taken house number two for a quarter -before we are obliged to leave our own. Of course if we could persuade -the landlord to let us have it for six weeks it would be better; but not -many landlords are as accommodating as this, and unfortunately many of -us cannot afford a double rent even for such a short space of time. -Still an effort should be made, as undoubtedly much is wasted in a -hurried move--in an enforced turning out on quarter day into another -house on the same date. - -It is only people in very straitened circumstances who accept in these -artistic days of ours the landlord’s scheme of decoration. Formerly -there were no ideas in the head of an ordinary paterfamilias on the -subject of paint and paper, and as long as all was clean and in good -condition he did not agitate himself in the least about his surroundings -as far as mere colour and ‘decoration’ were concerned, and he cheerfully -spread his Turkey carpet and placed his heavy sideboard and mahogany -table and chairs in position, regardless of the fact that the ‘good’ -flock paper and vulgar graining made up a _tout ensemble_ as utterly -depressing as it was tasteless and absolutely without character. - -But now, I am glad to think, what is already in one’s possession governs -in some measure what alterations are to be made, and as fate never yet -was so propitious as to put one down straight from one house into -another which was exactly decorated to our taste, we may be quite sure -that there are many things to do to any place to which we may -contemplate moving; therefore I say if possible let the two leases, -_i.e._ of your present and your future house, run side by side for six -weeks at least: so shall you move comfortably, and be able to make those -alterations that are perfectly sure to be necessary. - -A new house should never by any chance be entered in the September -quarter; it is astonishing what an amount of coal and reckless -expenditure of gas is required to obtain even moderate warmth in a new -house; and furthermore most appalling discoveries are apt to be made, as -soon as the fires are lighted, of the manner in which floors, doors, and -window-frames are capable of shrinking the moment warmth penetrates the -place; these we can circumvent in summer, but the winter is not a time -to run any risks of discovering that the more we try to warm the house -the wider open gape the cracks in all the woodwork, and that nothing we -can do will really warm a place, more and more exposed as days go by to -the four winds of heaven. Therefore, if the future house has never been -lived in, enter it in June, or even in March; there will then be ample -time to find out all faults in the structure before the winter arrives -with all its concomitant miseries. - -Delightful Mr. Aspinall, for whose existence I can never be sufficiently -thankful, has made house decoration mere child’s play compared to what -it used to be; and, armed with his paints and a written description of -what each room is to be like when done, the foreman can be left to his -own devices, and the old house can be returned to with a safe -conscience; for if careful selection has been made of each paper and its -own particular paint, no risks are run of finding, as I found when I -made my last move, that owing to the peculiar freaks of the painter -there were seven shades of blue in my hall, and another separate shade -of the same colour in a bed-room that was designed for a gem, and was -becoming under the wretch’s brush the exact shade of a butcher’s apron, -which was his own idea of a complete match to the ‘Berry’ paper--really -a good hedge-sparrow egg blue-green! If only he had had Aspinall’s neat -little tins, I should not have had to stand over him all the time he -mixed his paint, and most of the time he was applying it, and could not -see at the last that he was wrong and I was absolutely right. So if -those about to move will leave their decorators instructions to use -Aspinall and nothing else, they can be absolutely sure that their paint -will be right, and not a perpetual eyesore, as it almost invariably is -when left to the tender mercies of the ordinary decorator, who considers -he has an eye for colour, and is as obstinate as half-educated people -invariably are. - -Briefly, then, the first thing we have to do when we contemplate moving -is to really make up our minds that such a step is absolutely necessary, -because no one who has never moved can understand the mental misery -caused by tearing up one’s roots even from an uncongenial soil; -secondly, to carefully select a house likely to be our home for the rest -of our lives; thirdly, to still more carefully choose and put in train a -scheme of decoration that will harmonise in some measure with our -cherished possessions; and fourthly, to endeavour not to be forced at -the last to move hurriedly or into a new house in the winter. Once these -details are remembered and enforced, the real process of moving may -begin, and be got over as soon as the new house is ready for the -inmates. - -The mere move itself should be left entirely in the hands of the people -employed. Personally, I recommend for any one in the suburbs Bachelar, -of Croydon, who moved our furniture most successfully in the south of -England. Peace, of Bridgewater and Bournemouth, is equally to be -commended. Unfortunately, I know no one in the north, but I have no -doubt there are many firms there; but in any case all should be written -to, and estimates should be carefully considered before definitely -selecting any one from among their number; but all one’s belongings -should be in covered furniture vans: open vans or railway trucks are -ruination, and should never for one moment be used; and no estimate -which includes moving any of the ‘goods and chattels’ in open trucks -should be considered seriously, as even the roughest furniture suffers -considerably by being carted about in this primitive manner, and is -spoiled to a far greater extent than the mere difference between the two -kinds of conveyances would pay for. - -The books and pictures should be packed first, and unpacked last; the -carpets should be rolled up, after a good shaking, with camphor-bags -inside, even for the shortest transit; the straw, &c., used in packing -them in the most carefully supervised vans having been proved a most -comfortable home for small and teasing animals, which, discovering that -carpets, pillows, and beds are warmer and more comfortable on the whole -than straw, forsake their habitations for eligible residences among our -properties if we have not made them unbearable with camphor and a good -sprinkling of Keating’s insect powder before they leave our hands. Each -room-full of furniture should be placed ready to be again put down in -the special room for which it is intended. The carpets should remain -rolled until the last of the movers is departed; then after the floors -have been most thoroughly scrubbed with carbolic soap, the carpets -should be well beaten, and should be relaid if possible by the hands of -some ‘professional,’ for on the proper laying of a carpet depends far -more of the wear than we quite realise. The best furniture mover cannot -resist--please remember this!--the exquisite temptation to which he is -exposed to stuff up odd corners, and to prevent shaking by making -‘buffers’ out of our pillows, cushions, and odds and ends generally; and -as he furthermore has most excellent wrapping material in blankets, -small rugs, and other similar trifles, the amateur must come to the -rescue of her goods, or the professional packer will be much too strong -for her. - -In really well-organised and well-managed households each bed pillow and -mattress should have its loose and washable cover sewn tightly over it -of whitey-brown crash; these covers should be washed every year--if -possible, every six months, and if these are arranged for they will in a -great measure protect our property from the dirt and certain amount of -almost indispensable damage, which would accrue to them were they left -to the tender mercies of the remover, who would at once use them as -mentioned above, and would not disdain to walk upon them cheerfully, -did they seem to require more pressing down than a mere arrangement with -the hands would effect; but if they are not so defended before the move -is actually in progress, these covers should be made, or else great -sheets of coarse crash, such as is used for packing purposes, should be -strongly sewn round them, or inevitably we shall have to send all the -bedding to the upholsterers to be ‘re-done’--_i.e._ picked over and -readjusted, and the ticks washed also. The blankets must be even more -carefully protected. I have seen them wrapped round iron bedsteads, and -large mirrors, and with boots and even knives inside their folds, and in -any case they are ruthlessly annexed for packing purposes. Now to -circumvent this I strongly advise that space should be left at the top -of the box of each person inhabiting each separate room, and into this -space the folded blankets should go, to be ready for use at once, and to -be out of the way of the ‘ravagers.’ The clothes that should have -occupied the space in the box can be most safely left in the chests of -drawers and wardrobes, for ‘personal property’ of all kinds is -invariably respected, and not the most ruthless of packers would dream -of enfolding grimy objects in body linen or even among the folds of -heavy winter dresses. These are invariably left exactly as one last -placed them, and are emphatically respected, while even new blankets -appear to have an irresistible attraction for them, and are annexed at -once, while venerable ones suffer in the most appalling way conceivable. - -It is absolutely impossible to move in anything like comfort or peace -unless the juvenile members of the family and their nurses are ‘boarded -out.’ - -It is astonishing how very kind people are to each other when this -trying work is proceeding, and there are few among us, if indeed there -are any, who are not possessed of relatives, or at least dear friends, -who will stretch their houses to the extent of taking in some of the -children for the inside of a week; but if there are none on whom we can -rely, the children should be sent to an hotel, or lodgings should be -taken for them for a week; for if this is not done we should be quite -sure to be driven mad by them, by the utter helplessness of their -nurses, and by the certainty that we should have them all ill from the -draughts, the scrappy meals, the uncertain hours, and the thousand and -one absolutely unpreventable events that are familiar to every mother, -and therefore need not be detailed here. - -Let us suppose, therefore, that our move is to commence on a Tuesday, an -excellent day, which leaves Monday for our private packings, for the men -to pack the books, china, and ornaments (the number of my possessions in -these several ways always eliciting most amusing comments), and for us -to clear out the children and nurses; these latter, by the way, should -have carefully packed all the children’s things the week before in boxes -marked ‘Nursery’ in large chalk letters, and should take with them to -their lodgings only what is absolutely necessary. We will then proceed -up-stairs, put all the blankets away as suggested just now, see our -garments are so bestowed that they are safe, the silver and jewellery in -the charge of the man-servant if there be one, in the charge of the -parlour-maid if there be none, and then we should see placards are up in -each room, inscribed with the name of the room into which the things are -to go; and our task at the other end will be much simplified if we also -attach labels to each very heavy piece of furniture, taking care similar -labels are already placed in a prominent position in the rooms they are -intended for. - -The packing of a big house takes about two days, and on the evening of -the first day two of the servants and one of the household, the eldest -daughter if possible, should go on to the new house; if, however, there -is a long journey before them they should start almost as soon as the -vans come, as the first will arrive Wednesday morning at the new abode, -and someone should be there to receive it. The mistress and master -should remain until Wednesday night, when they too should go on to the -new abode, travelling by night if necessary, and the oldest and -trustworthiest servant should be left to see the house is cleaned down -by a couple of charwomen, and to hand the keys to a representative of -the landlord, who should go over the house with an agent on the side of -the remover to see all was left properly and undamaged by the out-going -tenant; then the maid or man could rest at a friend’s house or at the -local inn, and join the rest of the party on Thursday morning. - -It is absolutely necessary that a separate hamper of food ready cooked -and sufficient to supply the household for three days should be sent on -with the first batch of domestics, and the hamper should contain kettle, -cups and saucers, plates, and knives and forks, besides the actual food. -The cook will not be able to be spared from putting her belongings in -order to cook eatables, but an ample supply is necessary; for, as all -will be working hard, all will require sustenance. This hamper should be -at once put into the larder in the new house, the door locked, and the -key kept by the servant herself. - -The contents of the servants’ bedrooms, the kitchen, and one -sitting-room, and, if possible, one bedroom besides, should be -despatched first, and as each article is brought in someone should seat -herself on a camp-stool in the hall and should call out ‘Dining-room,’ -‘Servants’ bedroom,’ ‘Blue room,’ or otherwise name its destination; so -will the movers avoid the pleasing sight, that met my eyes when I moved -last, of the complete contents of three rooms placed higgledy-piggledy -in the centre of one chamber, heaped up like ‘leaves in Vallombrosa,’ -where the wretched painters were dawdling over their work still; the -painters who had caused this chaos by insisting that none of the other -rooms were ready, though none were as absolutely unfinished as that in -which they had arranged this pleasing reception for me. - -Thank goodness, my rage was so extreme that I turned them out neck and -crop, else, verily, I believe they would be here at this very moment; -but I always determined to use my own sufferings as a warning to others, -and I relate this experience in the hope that no one will attempt a move -until the painters are out, and unless they will manage it on the lines -here laid down for them. - -The men who move are always supposed to lay carpets, hang pictures and -curtains, and replace the books in cases. Whenever money is a very great -object--and, in that case, no move should be contemplated unless it were -a matter of health or the bread-winner’s change of employment--I -strongly advise that they should do nothing of the kind. - -In the first place, the carpets should not be placed until the last man -has departed; and in the second, it is infinitely better to have not -only a regular carpet-layer, but a man accustomed to hang pictures and -arrange brackets, mirrors, &c. I personally have a great many pictures -and odds and ends, and I have twice had a most excellent man from -Shoolbred’s on these occasions, who came properly provided with nails, -copper-wire, and all necessary tools, and who, for a little under 3_l._, -quietly, swiftly, and skilfully placed the pictures, &c., in their -places, with just a very little supervision from me; for, like all those -who have no regular art education, he had the usual mania for hanging -everything ever so much higher than it ought to be--a mania I most -successfully and promptly combated! But beyond this, and giving him a -few directions as to the placing of the pictures in due order, I left -matters to him; and in three days--for, like an angel, he remained his -Saturday half-holiday at my urgent request--all the walls were decorated -and finished properly, which they could not have been in double the time -had I been forced to rely on the help of those in the house. - -The china and books should be the last things arranged, and this cannot -be completed, I fear, in the week; but, thanks to my plan of short -curtains and no blinds, any window can be arranged in exactly ten -minutes. For, of course, the slight brass rods should be in place before -the move begins; and the carpets being square are laid in about half an -hour each, the carpet-layer going swiftly from room to room, and the -maids replacing the furniture, with the help of a man, as he leaves the -room; and as once curtains are up and carpets down the worst of the -battle is over, we may, perhaps, even arrange the china and books before -Sunday, and so spend in truth a real day of rest. - -I have all the decorative china arranged on a tiny folding-table we call -a choir-table, because it is brought into use for choir teas and other -similar festivities, and from this are picked out quickly and easily the -distinctive pieces devoted to each room: the book-shelves are up, and -then the books, being packed in something like order, are arranged, and, -in consequence, carefully done. A move need never take more than ten -days; and it would be simply indefensible were not the house absolutely -and completely straight in a fortnight; and, above all, let the -servants’ apartments and the nurseries be put in order first. Servants, -as a rule, are far less able, both by temperament and education, than -we are, to bear being ‘put out of their ways,’ and being over-worked and -over-tired resent, as no really trained and well-disciplined nature -resents, the small discomforts that we know will soon be entirely -forgotten, but that are apt at the time to cause friction, and, if not -properly legislated for, may even lose us a good and valuable servant. - -And, inasmuch as we have had an education and advantages, and inherit in -some cases the disciplined nature of forefathers and mothers equally -disciplined and educated, we must show that we have profited by these -said advantages at such times as these; and whereas we know that our -maids have had none, we should consider them, and look after them much -as we should after children, being quite sure we shall be rewarded after -our struggles by cheerful faces and willing arms, that are twice as -cheerful and willing as they would be did we not remember to tell them -how tired they must be, and to see they have extra food, and a small -amount of coddling even, to carry them over the present stress of work. - -The children should not return until one sees their rooms are dry and -warm and straight. This, like all the rest of the move, must be done by -organisation, and the rooms could be properly ready by Saturday night; -but each maid must be told off to the different rooms, and the mistress -and her daughter (and I do hope, for her sake, she may have that most -invaluable of all possessions--a grown-up daughter) must never relax -their supervision, else sundry gigglings and rompings about will hinder -work, and denote that, like most young feminine creatures, the maids are -disorganised by the presence of the opposite sex, and are endeavouring -to combine amusement and work in a most unsatisfactory and impossible -manner. - -The master of the house, poor creature! will confine his energies in -most cases to paying for the move, or, if he be very exemplary, after -arranging the wine-cellar he will see to the books and help with the -pictures. I have even heard rumours of men who are most useful and -helpful at similar crises; but as I have never yet found any male rise -above the discomfort sufficiently to be of real use in the matter, I -must put down this as a mere rumour, only hoping that it may be true. He -is, however, invaluable when it comes to managing the men who come to -move, and should be considered angelic if he does not grumble over his -scrappy dinner, or resent the fact that, unless he can go to an hotel, -he is not likely to have any decent meals for at least three days--a -fact a woman rather enjoys than deplores, as she recognises that for -those three days at least there are no orders to give and no regular -planning of food to be done. - -The first few days in a new house are replete with misery. On the -commencement of our tenancy we are literally besieged by the tradesmen -coming to endeavour to secure our custom; but we should be wise if from -some friend we were to obtain a list of those who are really reliable, -until we are able to send round to the butchers, and obtain lists of -prices from all for comparison, and have time to discover which of the -local grocers will serve us at co-operative prices for ready money. But -under no circumstances do I advise allowing a grocer’s man to call for -orders: a grocer’s bill being the one of all others that is liable to -swell to gigantic proportions. The moment a daily visit is permitted, -the maids appear to rack their brains to see what they can order, and I -have saved myself at least five shillings a week since I put a veto on -the daily call, which seemed a signal for them to discover that -hearthstones, vinegar, treacle, and similar ‘intangible’ objects were -required; and by ‘intangible’ I mean articles that might be wanted, as -it is impossible to regulate the supplies of these as one can other -goods; and as I have had far less of all since I send a written order to -either Shoolbred or Whiteley--whose men are not naturally in the least -likely to press for orders, and whose sole duties consist in bringing -the things, and receiving payment for the same--I strongly recommend all -housewives either to deal with them, or to go to the local grocers -themselves, and at once impress on them that no orders given in the -kitchen are to be attended to under any pretext whatever. - -The tradesman difficulty is the first misery, and then come the miseries -of making acquaintance really with our house and surroundings. We are -sure to discover a thousand small vexatious omissions in the house -itself, and above all--‘_miserere mei!_’--will we see with dismay that -the furniture which looked quite beautiful in our old home has -suddenly, and in the most unprovoked manner, become absolutely shabby -and miserable. - -This is an unanswerable problem, but it is a fact, and I can only -account for it by suggesting that the new paper and paint are to blame, -and that the sooner we get our furniture done up and rejuvenated the -sooner shall we become reconciled to our new house; but, of course, this -costs money--at a time, too, when money has been flowing away a little -too freely to be pleasant--and, no doubt, we may have to wait: another -reason why a move is trying, and why, like marriage, it should never be -undertaken lightly or unadvisedly; and at first we must make the best of -our surroundings, being duly thankful for the square carpets and the -light short curtains that save us so much piecing and planning, and -looking forward to new cretonne and tapestry as soon as we can afford -it. - -Then comes the misery of making new friends; and here I would say a word -of warning to those who go to an entirely unknown place, and have -absolutely no introductions. The best and nicest folk do not rush to -call on new people unless they have some knowledge of them; therefore -wait a little and ‘gang warily’ before accepting as your _fidus Achates_ -the first lady who enters your doors, for doubtless her call is caused -by curiosity, and because she has but few acquaintances and wishes -ardently to have more. - -Of course, if you have an immense house and heaps of money, everyone -calls on the house and on your income, and you can soon discriminate for -yourselves who is likely to be desirable and who is not; but the -ordinary householder should be very cautious about the acquaintances she -makes until she feels her feet, and can find out somehow--it is from the -clergyman and his wife generally--who is who, taking care in her turn to -tell enough of herself and her forbears to show that she is respectable -at any rate, and obtaining in due course the same sort of information -about those with whom she is surrounded. - -In London--dear, lovely, unsnobbish London--one can do absolutely as one -likes about everything, and nowhere is society as good as it is there. -In the country the very best society is dull. In London one can meet -with the only society worth having, in my opinion: the society of those -who either in art, literature, science, or politics have ‘done -something,’ and are making the history of the world. From this country -folk are absolutely debarred: another reason, dear readers, why I say -live in London, if you can in any way contrive to do so, and do not -leave it on any pretext whatever. But as man must associate with his -kind or perish, no doubt there are compensating elements in country -society that are evident to those who have lived among it all their -lives. At any rate, we can live more unselfishly in the country, and do -more good to those of our poorer brethren than we can in these crowded -streets, where they are nothing to us save a probable source of -infection, and a certain source of annoyance and dread. - -To sum up this chapter briefly, then: let no move be made, unless such a -course is absolutely imperative; let it be done in order and with -regularity; and make no rushes into friendship in your new neighbourhood -until you have discovered who is who, and made due inquiries on this -subject; and, above all, under all circumstances, if fate has absolutely -obliged you to make that particular move, make the best of it, and don’t -always either mentally or openly contrast your present abode -unfavourably and bad-temperedly with your last location. You have to -live where you have pitched your tent: therefore, bad as the place may -appear to you, try and smother your feelings until use has made you -reconciled to your new surroundings, even if ‘home’ has not asserted its -charm and caused you to become fond of the place, because your best and -dearest are there with you. It will be an effort, I can assure you, to -do so, but if you are strong-minded enough to suffer in silence, you -will be repaid for so doing a thousand-fold. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -HALLS AND PASSAGES. - - -The first part of the new house that should be attacked by the -decorator’s art is undoubtedly the hall: and as undoubtedly it is here -that the ordinary speculative builder surpasses himself; for, as a rule, -the moment one opens the front door one falls up the staircase, or else -one is confronted by a long, hopeless passage, which strikes a chill -into the stoutest heart, especially if the owner of that heart has not -had much experience in the art of ‘how to make the best’ of a very bad -state of affairs. - -But in these days of ours nothing in the way of amelioration is -impossible; and, indeed, were I given _carte blanche_ I would undertake -to make the most hideous, square, ‘impossible’ house a bower of beauty. -That sounds very egotistical, but I really do not mean it to be so; I -only should like to impress upon my readers that never before has so -much attention been given to decoration of houses as is given now, and -that by the aid of carefully planned woodwork and by using arches on the -plan of the Moorish fretwork first introduced by Liberty, a square room -can be made picturesque, and a long narrow passage pleasant to -contemplate, by simply putting up a series of slight arches, or else by -curtaining off portions of it by aid of simple wooden partitions, such -as are illustrated on page 25. I am very proud indeed of this sketch, as -it was made from a brilliant inspiration of mine for a house where the -instant one opened the door leading into the street, one was confronted -by the stairs on one hand, and a long uninteresting straight passage on -the other; and I was indeed pleased when I suddenly saw that a couple of -arches could be cut out from what might have been a partition placed -along the foot of the stairs from one side of the hall to the other, and -that the arch at the stair foot could be curtained by a double curtain -or pair of curtains, which would fall together when anyone raised it to -go upstairs; while the other arch could be draped either to the left or -right with a heavy piece of material according to the position of the -wall, or whether there is anything in the way of a cupboard or door to -be concealed. - -Treated in this way, the ordinary tiresome little hall of a London house -is metamorphosed, at once, and, as the wooden framework can be so -arranged that it can be screwed into the wall and so be made removable -at will, I am quite sure this notion of mine will ‘catch on,’ as the -Yankees say, more especially as Messrs. Wallace & Co., of Curtain Road, -E.C., are willing to erect it ready painted and varnished at about 1_l._ -a foot; that is to say, if the - -[Illustration: FIG. 1.--Hall Arrangement.] - -passage were six feet wide the arches would cost about 6_l._, if twelve -12_l._, and so on. The arches could be enamelled to match the hall -decorations, and the curtains could be of some heavy material like the -‘Elvira’ tapestry, or the beautiful jute velvet or Bokhara plush, which -is undoubtedly _the_ material for draping, while even the humbler serge -is not to be despised; but in this case the curtain in the stair arch -should be made double and very full, a great deal of the appearance of -this ‘notion’ depending on full graceful curtains and proper draperies. - -It would even be possible in a hall arranged like this to have one of -the hideous hat and coat rails which die so hard; but even here I again -repeat my warning against these monstrosities; they can never look like -anything save Bluebeard’s wives hanging up against the wall, and are -always a temptation to the gentle burglar or the common area sneak who -delights to make off with coats and hats even if he can find nothing -else; but if the master of the house declines to allow himself to be -educated up to keeping his garments out of sight, he may be humoured by -allowing him a place behind the hall curtain, which should be then -properly draped in such a manner that the coats and hats would be -completely hidden; a china or brass receptacle for umbrellas could be -put on the other side of the convenient curtain also, and so all these -most undecorative items will be put out of sight, thus causing the -arches to be as useful as they are undoubtedly ornamental. - -In many houses the staircase goes up at the side and does not face the -front door, and here, too, the arches come in with great effect. I mean -in those houses where there is a straight passage from the front door to -a room opposite which faces the door and so ends the house; in the -passage there are usually two doors, one on either side, belonging to -the dining and morning rooms, the end room being often enough a small -back room, or, as was the case in our house at Shortlands, even the -drawing-room itself; there the passage opens out on the right hand and -discloses the staircase close by the door and a passage leading to the -lavatory; here the arches conceal the staircase at once and also the -latter arrangement, and make a decoration out of what is always to me a -great eyesore. In one case where the arches have been erected the -passage led to the servants’ pantry, the door of which always stood -invitingly open, disclosing sink and washings-up generally to the eyes -of the critical caller; the curtain conceals all that now splendidly, -and the whole arrangement gives an idea of space and ‘veiled -possibilities’ which is really marvellous. - -When we came to our present abode the hall here struck me with dismay, -and it was some time before I could understand in the least what could -be done with it; it was exactly like a telescope, with a hideous window -at one end, opening out on to several dead trees, and what looked like -the family washing, with doors appearing just where such doors should be -concealed, and, of course, it had beautiful marble papers and graining -and a brand-new dado of a dark and hideous design in varnished paper -too; the ‘decorations,’ however, I did not consider; but I racked my -brains about the long, narrow, awful passage called by courtesy ‘the -hall,’ and at last I had an inspiration. I ran a wooden partition -across, about ten feet from the end of the place, and behind that put in -a hot and cold water arrangement, and made it into a regular cloak-room; -opening out another door into that, which previously opened out into a -tiny passage leading into the fourth sitting-room, which would have been -absolutely unusable had not this been done; and then, by the aid of bent -laths and a little plaster, two arches were made in the passage, draped, -one to the right, the other to the left, with a ‘khelim,’ looped with -cords and tassels; and so I obtained what old Astley used to call a -‘wister’--_i.e._ a vista--and made a really decorated spot out of a most -commonplace passage. Of course all the coats and hats are in the -cloak-room, and there is nothing in the hall itself save the buffet -illustrated on next page, which is in old oak, and which always looks -nice, and forms a place where the cards of visitors can be placed, or -the letters from the post, or other trifles; a couple of chairs for -emergencies, the gong, and one of Mr. Pither’s beautiful red pots on a -bamboo stand holding one of the long-suffering Aspidistras, which will -live in draughts, and successfully bear uncomplainingly what would -certainly kill at once any other plant, completing the furniture of this -so-called hall. - -My readers will be amused to hear that since I wrote ‘From Kitchen to -Garret’ I have learned a very great - -[Illustration: FIG. 2.--Oak Buffet.] - -many things; indeed, if I had not, I should most certainly not be -writing a second instalment of ‘furniture literature.’ However, as one -of these items is undoubtedly about the hall, I am now going to mention -it here at once. Reluctantly, but emphatically, have I come to the -conclusion that where hard wear is expected it is absolutely necessary -to have linoleum of some kind or the other on the floor. Of course a -great many well-regulated households are provided with nice tiles, which -I can never look at without envy; but as the majority of folks are not -so highly favoured, and as most households possess boys, and many have -dogs too, I have regretfully discovered that, if a house is to be kept -clean and tidy, the hall must have some material to cover it that can be -washed daily, and so can be perpetually and properly kept in order. -There is a particularly pretty linoleum made by the Staines Linoleum -Company in Queen Victoria Street, E.C., which resembles tiny squares of -black and white marble, which looks very well down. Of course it is a -sham, and as such is to be deprecated, but I cannot help recommending -it, as it looks so clean and nice and bright, and would do admirably in -some halls; while for those who will not allow any shams anywhere in -their houses, nothing looks so nice as the darkest brown self-coloured -linoleum put down all over the passages and halls, with some six-foot -and even larger rugs about. The rugs must be as large as possible, as -little rugs are apt to slip and move under the servants’ feet. They also -have a most aggravating manner of turning up at the edges, and becoming -shabby; while the large rugs will wear for years, and stand really very -hard wear too. These are about 28_s._ at either Maple’s or Treloar’s, -and measure about three yards long by about one and a half yards wide. I -say about, as none of these rugs seem to me to be exactly the same size; -but this is near enough to give my readers some idea of how many they -would require if they elect to put them down in their halls. The smaller -rugs are about six feet long, and about four wide. These should have a -wide binding sown on at the back, top and bottom, with a few shots, or -else those round leaden weights used in ladies’ jackets, underneath the -binding to keep the ends down, and prevent the curling which is so -unsightly and tiresome in these small rugs, and on damp hall-floors -should be lined at the back with American leather. - -Linoleum should never be scrubbed with soap and water, for this removes -the pattern; but should be rubbed with a wet house-flannel to remove the -dirt, and then polished with sour milk and water; plain brown linoleum -should be kept in order with linseed oil (boiled) and turpentine mixed. -This is specially required at first; for, like all materials which have -no pattern on, it shows every footmark, and at first appears as if it -were going to wear villainously; but the oil and turpentine soon restore -it, and the rugs prevent the usual miserable effect of a plain -material, which--I cannot think why--always wears badly if left to -itself, and invariably looks untidy and shabby almost before it is down; -therefore we may consider it an axiom that, if we are not provided with -a good tiled floor, we cannot do better than have either the Staines -linoleum to simulate marble, or the plain linoleum and rugs--this for -preference. The linoleum should be washed daily with a damp duster, and -the rugs shaken, and once a week all should be cleaned with the linseed -oil and turpentine; this will double the wear, and insure all marks -being quite removed. - -Another thing which I have most certainly learned is, that, delightful -as felt looks and feels, and that beautiful as are the colours in which -it is made, it is absolutely worthless for real wear. I had it laid down -in the Watford house, when we went there, all over the halls and -passages, and on the stairs too, and was quite delighted with the soft, -warm feel thereof, and the appearance was equally pleasing; but we had -not been there six months before that wretched stuff became the curse of -the household; every single drop of water, every thread, or morsel of -dust, every footmark showed; and from morning until night something had -to be done in the shape of brushing and dusting, and, even then, we were -never clean and never tidy. And then, in addition to its other sins, if -the abominable material did not begin to go into holes; all along the -edges of the stairs tiny white spots showed where the under felt was -working through, and before a year was out all the wretched stuff had to -be removed, and replaced in the hall with dark brown linoleum and rugs; -and on the stairs by Pither’s beautiful dark-blue blossom-patterned -Brussels carpet, which after a year’s hard wear looks really better than -it did the first day it was put down; and I can never understand how -anyone can ever recommend felt, as I am convinced it is absolutely -worthless as a floor-covering, and that nothing can make it at all -satisfactory; and as I still see it in shops, and notice it pressed on -the attention of those about to furnish, I consider it my duty to warn -my readers against it, for if they succumb to its fascinating -appearance, they will inevitably suffer from its possession in the same -way that I did. - -Another thing I most strongly advise my readers to possess themselves -of, if in any way they can, is a really good stair-carpet. There should -be no fidgety border or differently coloured pattern on them to attract -the eye and tease the brain, but there should be merely a simple pattern -in the lighter shade on a darker ground; this always looks well, and at -the same time does not tire one as an accentuated pattern invariably -does. I therefore recommend Pither’s excellent Brussels and Wilton pile -carpets, 27 inches wide, the one at 4_s._ 6_d._, the other at 7_s._ -_3d._ the yard, for they are absolutely faultless, both in design and -colour, and can be as absolutely relied on both for wear and appearance. -Wallace & Co.’s ‘Stella’ Brussels at 3_s._ 11_d._ would be nice, if -expense is a very great object, and their Burmese carpet with a design -on is also to be recommended, and no one can go wrong about their -stair-carpets if they make a judicious selection from these four -qualities and designs. I am perpetually asked for a really good artistic -and satisfactory carpet at a very low price, but I as often reply, You -might as well ask me to supply you with a really good diamond necklace -for a few shillings, for such a thing does not exist. You can get very -artistic-looking carpets for a little money; the Burmese carpet is -ridiculously cheap and very satisfactory, but for real hard wear -Brussels or pile must be chosen, and for a really good thing one must -always pay; and it is far cheaper in the long run to buy what is really -good than to be perpetually vexed at the wear and tear which invariably -surprises and annoys us, come when it may. I therefore very strongly -advise all who can to invest in really good stair-carpets, even if they -content themselves with something far less expensive for the other -rooms. - -Then, too, I should much like to impress on my readers that the hideous -glass one usually finds ready for one, either each side of the front -door, or else as elaborate fanlights over the doors in the passage, -should be removed and replaced by cathedral glass in leaded squares, or -by bottle-ends. If, however, this is impossible, though the expense is -not great, and the effect thereof is admirable, let the grained and -patterned glass be covered by a really excellent imitation of the -cathedral glass. This is to be obtained from Graham & Biddle, Graham -House, Oxford Street, W., and is floated on glass in the same manner in -which the ancient and much despised ‘decalcomanie’ used to be managed, -and really has quite a surprising effect; a third way would be to remove -the glass and replace it with quite plain, clear glass, covered inside -by a fluted curtain of good Madras muslin, in really artistic colours. -No one who has not risen in rebellion against the builder’s arrangement -of starred or patterned glass can imagine how immensely any place is -improved by removing it altogether and replacing it with something else; -and though this may appear a trifle to write about, I can assure you -that it is only by strict attention to such trifles that one can produce -an artistic whole, which shall be entirely and absolutely satisfactory -in every way. And, after all, these small matters cost far less than the -elaborately draped curtains, the fitted carpets, the giant sideboards, -and the other expensive monstrosities against which I am always waging -war. - -To be really perfect, the hall should be a square space in the centre of -the house, where a big fire could blaze in winter, and masses of flowers -could greet the incoming guest when dear, delightful summer makes fires -unnecessary; and naturally such a hall would require very different -treatment to the ordinary long and narrow passage; but if the staircase -sweeps out of the hall I should still suggest my arches here. They would -hide the stairs--never very lovely objects at the best of times--and -obscure the glimpses of ascending and descending legs, which, especially -in the long-dead days of crinolines, made going up or down stairs a -penance indeed to any one who had to perform the ascent and descent in -the face of a numerous company gathered in the hall, besides which a -sense of snugness would be given to the whole place, which it could -never have were that open space left unprotected, stretching up into the -air! - -As a rule, the square hall should be treated, as far as mere -wall-decoration goes, in the same manner as the passages which lead out -of it are treated, but here it would be quite in character, were fresh -colours introduced, or the style of decoration reversed: that is to say, -if the dado, which is imperative in a narrow passage, were replaced by -the same decoration used as a frieze, taking care only that the colours -should harmonise: for example, supposing the passages themselves were -decorated in brown and gold, the brown being the ‘Kenesaw’ design -printed on real brown paper by Essex & Co., Albert Mansions, Victoria -Street, S.W., at five shillings and sixpence the piece, the dados being -of a really good and strong gold Japanese leather paper, the inner or -square hall could be papered in the same manner, using, however, the -Japanese gold paper as a frieze; the frieze-rail could be Giles’ picture -and china rail, holding big jugs and blue and white china of all kinds, -and thus a charming effect would be obtained suitable for the squareness -of the hall, and yet harmonising absolutely with the passages which lead -out of it. - -In such a hall as this the ceiling should be divided into squares; this -can be done quite easily nowadays by a series of laths or mouldings made -on purpose; this is nailed into the laths above the ceiling with long -thin nails. A very good moulding made on purpose is sold by Messrs. -Haines & Co., 83 Queen Victoria Street, E.C., at about one penny a foot, -and the squares thus made are filled either with a good ceiling paper or -else by an admirably decorative material, exactly like moulded plaster, -also sold by Haines, and called anaglypta; this costs about 2_l._ for a -good-sized ceiling, and when up all should have a coat of ivory silicate -paint, or else of the invaluable and admirable Aspinall enamel, also in -ivory, for though builders may argue, and decorators implore, for a -heavier and more ornate system of treating the ceiling and cornice, I -cannot too emphatically condemn any colouring being introduced into the -ceiling and surrounding plaster work in lines, and distracting contrasts -of colour, thus bringing the ceiling down on our heads, depressing one -dreadfully, and all too often bringing into notice much which would be -better left to obscurity. - -But my readers must not imagine from the above that I am recommending -for one moment the ordinary ugly white-wash, the mere appearance of -which ruins any room, or that I am ceasing to love the much-recommended -papered ceiling--indeed I am not. Colour of some kind is necessary there -as well as anywhere else, but the colour must be ivory, or faint -terra-cotta, green, blue, or yellow, and must not be daubed on by the -heavy hand of the decorator revelling in golds, and reds, and blues in -bewildering confusion, and even introducing dreadful real or imitation -oak beams, all well enough in houses where they are part of the fabric, -and have the sentiment and beauty of age to defend their existence, but -absolutely indefensible in an ordinary London house or small suburban -villa, as indefensible as is old oak furbished up in Tottenham Court -Road and made ghastly with sticky, varnished paint or stain, when placed -in a house that has the nineteenth century and speculative builder -written large all over it, in the bulging walls, its vilely drawn lines, -and its rawness and newness and vulgarity of style. - -For it is no use attempting to have a pretty house unless we are -absolutely strong-minded, and begin by forbidding the decorator to do -anything but what he is told to do; and it is much wiser to write down -exactly at the commencement of our decorations ‘precept on precept,’ -‘line upon line,’ ‘word by word,’ for each room, exactly what we wish -the room to be arranged like, putting on paper the name and number of -the wall paper, the colour of the paint, and in fact every single thing, -so that at the end there can be no mistake; and above all we must not be -persuaded out of our own ideas by the builder or by the upholsterer, or -by anyone at all, once we have made up our minds what we intend to have, -for we may be quite sure that if we are we shall repent it for ever -after. I am often much disappointed to find, after I have taken real and -elaborate pains to tell people exactly how their houses should be -decorated, that they have allowed themselves to be talked over by the -builder or the decorator, and that in consequence I am again sent for -(at double the expense of course), to tell them how to get over, or in -some measure mitigate the horrors that have been perpetrated. ‘It is -such a nuisance to run from shop to shop getting all the different -papers,’ says one, ‘and the builder had almost the same sort of design -in his book, and said his hung much better than those you recommend.’ -‘Oh! we hadn’t time,’ says another, ‘and so we left it to the builder, -and now, please, dear Mrs. Panton, do help us again, for the house does -look horrid, and we cannot think why,’ and of course I go, and could -weep, really weep, over the waste of money, time, and material which -would all have been saved had they handed the builder my written plan of -decorations and told him that that, and that only, was to be the order -for the work. - -And decoration is really so easy nowadays, that, like moving, it need -only be done slowly and in order to be an absolute success. All that is -required from the builder is the plan of each room, you then write to -the paper manufacturer for as many pieces of paper at so much, so many -yards for the dados or frieze; this is ascertained by simply measuring -round the room with a tape; to Aspinall for so much paint (a gallon at -25_s._ does quite a large room), and then having collected your -materials set to work. The painter has not to exercise his genius (?) or -discretion (?) at all, he has simply to do as he is told; and, this -being understood, one is spared the endless discussions with the -builder, who wants to sell you some of the reams of hideous paper he has -bought wholesale, and for a mere song, at a clearing-out sale of the -‘Chamber of Horrors’ of some paper-manufacturer, and who makes a great -parade of the printed prices at the back of the sheets, trusting that -you are innocent of the knowledge that on all papers the regular -discount is 33 per cent., and that his own particular stock has been -purchased at almost waste-paper prices, because the manufacturer was -only too pleased to get rid of what ordinary upholsterers and decorators -had absolutely refused to take up; and who is persuasive and pleading, -and finally impertinent, when he discovers he has an adept to deal with, -and not one of the numerous victims erstwhile so easily bullied or -fatigued into putting up almost anything he shows them in order to get -rid of and see the last of him. - -I think the hall and passage are good spots in which to once more -enforce the above details, for all should be done at the beginning, at -the entrance as it were, or else the worry and disappointments will be -endless; therefore I cannot consider the disquisition in which I have -indulged out of place, and I feel I cannot too much or too often impress -on my readers the absolute necessity of being sure what they want -themselves before sending for the decorator; he must only be the hands -to execute the work; and he must be absolutely silent about colours and -patterns of paper if the house is to be a success at all. There are -several other schemes of decoration that are absolutely successful in a -hall, which were not spoken of in ‘From Kitchen to Garret,’ and which -can be mentioned here before passing away from the hall altogether, -although there are several things still to be said about it; and, -indeed, as in all that regards decoration, it is an absolutely -inexhaustible subject, as new and pretty things appear daily, and good -combinations of colour are constantly suggesting themselves to the -decorative mind. For the ordinary long dark passage, I would suggest -that yellow and white should be used, nut-brown taking the place of -white should there be very much traffic in the place, or should there be -necessity for a certain amount of economy; very small halls look nice -with Pither’s ‘special’ yellow and white berry paper, at 2_s._ a piece; -a matting dado in plain white with all ivory paint, and Maple’s yellow -and white ceiling paper, at 4_d._ a piece; the matting dado being -replaced by Liberty’s nut-brown arras cloth, at 9¾_d._ a yard, and all -‘nut-brown’ paint, where it is considered desirable to have a darker -arrangement than would be obtained by the ivory and white. The arras is -very wide, 54 inches, and would in consequence cover a much larger -wall-space than the matting does, neither is it so difficult to manage -as is matting, but both should be secured at the bottom by upholsterer’s -tacks, and at the top by a light wooden rail, sold by Haines, of 83 -Queen Victoria Street, E.C., at something under 1_d._ a foot. This -should be screwed to the wall, and could be removed, arras, or matting -and all at any time, which it could not be were ordinary nails employed, -and a simple (and hideous) paper dado could replace the more expensive -‘properties,’ were the owner to remove and wish to take the dado with -him, a plain paper-dado and a tidy wall being all that could be demanded -of him by his landlord; beauty and æstheticism are not in the bond that -exists between him and his tenant. - -Another arrangement would be Pither’s beautiful ‘Buttercup, C,’ at 3_s._ -a piece, and yellow matting dado, and all ‘Mandarin’ paint, and a -ceiling paper in red and cream; the ‘berry,’ at 1_s._, would do quite -well with either of these schemes. Pither’s dull red pile carpet would -be best for the stairs; and a good many Oriental rugs should be about -the hall. Any draperies over the doors should be the dull red ‘Elvira’ -tapestry, sold by Wallace, or of Mandarin yellow serge, this, of course, -being much cheaper than the ‘Elvira’ brocade, which is 9_s._ 6_d._, as -against the 1_s._ 11½_d._ of the ever useful serge. - -If yellow should be objected to--and nothing is so useful or so -successful in a dark passage--blue should be the next colour to be -thought about, and Liberty’s blue tulip damasque is a most valuable -paper for a blue hall. This is only 2_s._ a piece, and ‘hangs’ -splendidly, and a very original effect would be produced by this paper, -a high dado of red and gold leather paper, and all dull red paint; the -red of the paint to match the curious dull-lacquered appearance of the -red in the Japanese leather paper; the stair carpet should be red, and -the ceiling paper yellow and white; as a rule Maple’s ceiling paper, at -4_d._ a piece, is quite good enough for anything; but if people do not -mind spending a little more money, Haines has a charming ceiling paper -at 3_s._, in yellow and white, which, being of a more geometrical and -better design in every way, would be perfect for ceilings, although, as -I said before, where money is an object, the yellow and white ceiling -paper is all that is absolutely necessary, and really answers remarkably -well. - -Should a red hall be desired, Pither’s ‘Buttercup, B,’ at 2_s._ 6_d._, -cannot be improved upon. Cream or else ‘Scindered’ paint should be used; -a red and white matting for the dado, not a check matting, but one which -has a red line in it, and dark blue art carpet on the floor, blue and -white ceiling paper--Maple, 4_d._ a piece. Any draperies should be -either blue or red, and the ever-useful Khelims would show off admirably -in a house arranged and decorated in this way, for their Eastern -colourings would appear to advantage against the red and cream walls. -This is a bold decoration, but one that looks extremely well, as does -even a bolder arrangement, consisting of the ‘Buttercup, B,’ all -malachite-green stained woodwork, a dull green matting dado, Burr & -Elliott’s (Oxford Street, W.) dull green cocoa-nut matting on the hall -and stairs, dull green and white ceiling paper, and draperies of -malachite-green serge. All the furniture should be Armitage’s stained -green wooden furniture, his high-backed little settle being particularly -adapted for use in a hall, where no more furniture should be allowed -than is absolutely necessary, unless the hall can, by reason of its size -and design, be used as a room, and treated and furnished like one. - -I cannot and never do recommend either a terra-cotta or real green wall; -the latter is such a nondescript and uncertain colour that the use of it -in the entrance appears to me to strike the keynote to the character of -the inhabitants, who are thus pronounced uncertain in their ideas, and -not particularly satisfactory, and there are so many ‘builder’s horrors’ -in the shape of dull, gloomy terra-cotta papers that inexperienced folks -are apt to buy simply because the pure word ‘terra-cotta’ implies to a -certain class of mind that the paper is artistic and high art, that I am -impelled to taboo terra-cotta altogether at once; but if Liberty’s -‘tulip’ and ‘marigold’ damasque papers are bought a terra-cotta wall may -be indulged in, though I can never pronounce this as totally -satisfactory as are the red, blue, and yellow and brown walls. If the -terra-cotta is selected, I advise ivory paint; if that cannot be -indulged in, a shade of dull green should be chosen to harmonise with -the terra-cotta, and the dado should be either green matting or else of -green and gold (_dull_ green and gold, please!) Japanese leather paper; -the stair carpet should be green, and so should the draperies and -ceiling paper. - -A green wall could be arranged by using Liberty’s green and silver -‘tulip’ damasque, at 2_s._, and dull green paint, and a pale green -matting dado, Pither’s dark red carpet, and dark red draperies, the red -and cream ‘berry’ for ceiling, or else terra-cotta draperies, and the -‘Stella’ stair carpet from Wallace. This hall would be artistic; but a -cooler effect, and one that would be specially adapted for a hot hall, -one into which much sun pours, would be obtained by using the green and -silver paper, sea-green paint, and all pale green draperies, and a green -carpet, using white and green muslin on the windows, and any white and -green china to hold flowers and plants that one can find. - -Once the papering and painting are done and the stair-carpets are down -and the draperies are up, serious attention must be given to the trifles -which appear scarcely worth seeing to, but on which depend so much, and -which I have spoken about in the beginning of this chapter; for it is of -no use to put charming papers on our walls if we leave hideous glass in -the doors, or allow our staircase windows to glare at us with strips of -yellow, blue, and red glass for edges round a starred centre, in a -manner found even in these artistic days in houses where people should -presumably know better; and I therefore repeat my advice to my readers -to look out for the trifles, and never to rest until all they possess -has some beauty to excuse its existence. - -Perhaps the most tiresome thing in the orthodox hall is the ordinary -long staircase window; but this can be improved at very small cost if a -little artistic talent is brought to bear upon it. If it can be afforded -in any way the window can be made beautiful by filling it in with -cathedral glass in leaded squares, and about three or four really good -medallions in stained glass could be hung about. These can be procured -from Mr. Pither, 38 Mortimer Street, Regent Street, W. A wide shelf -should be placed at the bottom of the window, and china could be -arranged there. On the landing could be placed a tall grandfather clock, -in such a way that the face faces the hall, and, if there is room, a big -palm in a stand adds much to the effect. This would obviate any -necessity for draperies, always rather difficult to keep clean in this -exalted situation. If this arrangement is too expensive, a wooden arch -should be placed round the top of the window, and the woodwork should -taper down each side to the bottom of the window (illustrated in Fig. -3), and a soft silk drapery should be caught up on one side. This is -confined by a cord, passed over a nail, which can be loosened by -releasing the cord; the curtain then falls over the windows, and either -obscures the sunshine or the darkness, according to whether it is -lowered at night or day, although I should personally prefer to leave it -draped and to hang a lamp up in the arch, which could be lighted at -night. Plants or china could be arranged along the ledge, and make a -charming picture out of what is usually an intensely ugly spot. - -Another great difficulty is the usual London landing half-way up-stairs, -where sometimes a couple of chairs are put, on which no one ever sits, -flanked by a table no one ever dusts or by a couple of palms everyone -forgets to water. Here a really clear brain is required to cope with the -difficulties; and I have had a sketch done by a friend of mine, who has -made a perfectly charming corner out of this generally hideous spot, -which I hope will speak for itself, and shows what can be made out of a -similar landing with trouble and a good deal of really artistic feeling. -In this same house the second door to the drawing-room, which is never -used and only looks frightful to those who come up the stairs and see -this door first of all, is turned into a cabinet, where various -old-fashioned fans and curiosities - -[Illustration: FIG. 3.--Staircase Window.] - -[Illustration: FIG. 4.--A London Landing.] - -generally are kept, the sunken space between the wall and the door -itself being amply deep enough for this purpose; and as all doors can be -made to open into a room, the deep space can always be on the passage -side, the flat side being in the room itself and hidden by a straight -curtain, or, by a still simpler process, by taking off all the -mouldings, handles, &c., and papering straight over the door, just as if -it were a portion of the wall itself. - -The simple over-doors, sold by so many furniture houses nowadays, should -be placed over the doors, in most houses, in the hall, or else pictures -should be hung there; and, indeed, one cannot have too many good -pictures anywhere. If real paintings and excellent proof engravings are -not to be afforded, do let me beg of my readers to indulge themselves in -autotypes or photographs from really good pictures. These look specially -well in a hall, and naturally do not serve as dust traps, as do far too -many of the Japanese ornaments, fans, skins, and trophies of the chase, -which are usually considered appropriate to this remarkably dusty and -trying situation. Pictures can be dusted daily; other ornaments require -more time and attention, though naturally one would rather have these -than nothing, if one cannot afford pictures, in this spot, while the -over-doors finish off the hall, and can have the five or six china -ornaments, which look well and can be regularly dusted with a long -feather brush and duly washed once a week when the hall is entirely -turned out. - -I most strongly advise the hall to be warmed in some way if it can -possibly be managed, and I must own that I never can understand why -houses are built year after year without this simple but most important -convenience. One need not use a stove because one has it, but it should -never be out of one’s power to thoroughly warm the house should one wish -to do so, and I look forward to a day I have often spoken of, when women -shall qualify as architects, and shall turn their hands entirely to -domestic architecture. Until then I suppose we must go on grumbling and -putting up with grateless halls, cupboardless houses, and rooms where no -provision at all has been made for placing a bed or arranging furniture -with common sense, to say nothing of artistic grouping, that of course -is absolutely impossible in the ordinary square recessless house with -which we are now so very liberally provided by the male architect! - -But if in any way possible have a grate put into the hall, or else some -kind of stove; of course a grate means a chimney, and this is not always -forthcoming when wanted, but a grate is much to be preferred; in the -first place it can mean a pretty mantel and over-mantel, and cheerful -blazes in winter, and pretty flowers in summer; and in the second, the -warmth it gives is separable from the fumes and stuffy feeling that one -always finds with a stove, no matter how good it is. Then, too, a stove -is hideous, it can’t help being so, and it is frankly frightful; still, -if warmth cannot be got into a hall in any other way, a stove must be -used, and I think the one sold by Mr. Pither in Mortimer Street, the -‘Eclipse,’ is as good as any; it burns a long time without any -attention, and costs very little indeed--I think something like twopence -for the twelve hours. - -The reason why I impress upon my readers the necessity of a stove is -that I cannot believe but that we should be saved an immense amount of -illness were we yet more particular about an equal temperature than we -are. As a rule our rooms are fairly warm, but in the winter our passages -are like ice, they cannot help being so; windows must be opened and the -outer doors cannot be kept hermetically sealed, and the moment we leave -our fireside or the rooms where we have fires, we get a sudden chill -which cannot fail to try us terribly, even if it results in nothing -worse; besides which a fearful cold draught comes into our sitting-room -the moment the doors are open, and we shiver and throw on more -coal--coal that we should not require were the hall warmed as it ought -to have been, and which would allow us to even leave our sitting-room -door open should we desire to do so. Now our first exclamation to an -incoming friend is: ‘Oh, please shut the door!’ and we dismiss him or -her with the same pleasing but necessary injunction. - -I was delighted to see in one of the papers the other day that there had -been a most remarkable diminution in that fatal scourge of our -ancestresses--consumption; for I am certain this is entirely due to the -fact that we are far more sensible about our clothing, and much more -lavish about firing, than our fathers used to be; and I feel convinced, -were we to have still more fires, and were we to taboo low - -[Illustration: FIG. 5.--Hall Wardrobe (No. 1).] - -[Illustration: FIG. 6.--Hall Wardrobe (No. 2).] - -dresses entirely, consumption would soon be a thing of the past. -Therefore I cannot, I feel, say too much about the necessity for a stove -or fire in the hall, which is certainly neither complete nor sensible -without this most necessary piece of furniture; but I suppose we must -await our lady architect before these are universal, or before we get a -really perfect house, from a woman’s point of view at least. The -furniture of the hall must depend entirely on its length and breadth, -but once more I beg my readers not to allow of anything approaching the -appearance of the ordinary ugly hat stand there; if Edwin will not -remove his hideous hats and very ugly coats upstairs, Angelina must -conciliate him by having one of the hall wardrobes illustrated here. The -first one could go into a corner behind the door, and could be painted -to match the decorations, or else could be of either American walnut or -oak; the curtains could be of serge worked over in a decorative design -in coarse crewels, or else of some pretty tapestry. Complete in art -colours with serge curtains it costs 3_l._ 3_s._, in walnut 4_l._ 18_s._ -6_d._; the straight one costs 5_l._ 15_s._ in art colours, and 6_l._ -6_s._ in walnut; but for the impecunious, and, alas! there are many -among us, a V-shaped piece of wood could be put into the corner and -screwed there with a straight piece to make a front, from which the -curtain should hang down straight; behind this a V-shaped shelf could be -placed for hats, and some hooks could be screwed on the wall for coats; -but if in any way possible the real thing should be bought--it could be -moved to any other house and would last a life-time. These designs are -made by Wallace of the Curtain Road, where these capital hall wardrobes -are to be had, and which will, I trust, strike a death-blow to the -old-fashioned stands, which were as ugly as they were temptations to the -ordinary area-sneak to come in and help himself to any coat or hat he -takes a fancy to. Instead of the ordinary hall table I again suggest the -buffet, illustrated on page 28; nothing looks better, and if a carriage -is kept the oak chest, which can be opened like a cupboard, could hold -the rugs, while the top could be ornamented with china and hold a big -Imari bowl for cards, and a smaller one for the cards left during the -afternoon or letters sent by post; a couple of chairs and the -high-backed settle spoken of before would be ample for any ordinary -hall, where there should be, furthermore, a good mat at the front door, -but no small mats in each doorway or dreadful woolly mats about, things -which are quite unnecessary and are as ugly as they are tiresome. - -It is absolutely necessary that, whether artistic or not, the hall -should be scrupulously tidy and as scrupulously clean; and I do not know -a more difficult thing than to insist on the former of these two axioms, -and to see one’s orders are carried out, especially when there are boys -and dogs--those two fatal elements to tidiness and cleanliness, but -which are absolutely necessary to the making of a complete house. One -may go out leaving a spotless place, with no _débris_ to offend the eye, -but one returns to find it scattered over with hats and caps, tennis -rackets, bats and stumps, paw and footmarks, and a general air of -distracting dirt all over, that is absolutely trying to the eye, that -fondly hopes to see what it left; and the only way to cope with the -human element is to make a species of pound, into which all is put, and -from whence nothing can be extracted without the payment of some small -fine. I have known a week’s pocket money go in one morning, but, as a -rule, very few lessons are required; the unfailing exactment of a fine -teaching even a boy that there is a place for everything and that -everything must be put in that place. The dogs and footmarks have to be -put up with, and I have known an unhappy kitchenmaid wash the front -doorsteps five single times in one day, when the boys have been at home, -and rain has, as is usual in Watford, been falling dismally. A back -staircase is another thing no house should be built without. This spares -the hall immensely, and saves the best stair-carpet, and prevents one -meeting the servants as one goes up and down--a thing I personally very -much object to. I don’t know why, but I resent hearing them go up to bed -past the drawing-room door, and owe our present house yet another -grudge, because, for the first time in our lives, we have here no second -staircase. If there should be one, I again advise the oilcloth dado -spoken of in my former book; nothing is so absolutely indestructible, or -so clean, and with this dado a wall would remain tidy and spotless for -an entire lifetime. A strong cocoanut matting should be put down on the -stairs themselves, but the edges of the stairs should be carefully -inspected, as back stairs, especially, are apt to be very roughly -finished off; if this is the case, a carpenter should be called in, -either to plane them smoothly, or mend them, or a wide, broad piece of -brass should bind the edges; these, again, should have a pad of flock in -a thin lining laid along them, finally covered with the cocoanut -matting. These small precautions will not cost very much, but will -certainly add immensely to the chances of the longevity of the carpets. -It would be a good thing to have the ‘treads’ of the back stairs grained -and varnished; but those in the principal staircase should always be -painted white with Aspinall’s water-paint. This gives an indescribably -clean and fresh look to the stairs, and the paint is so easily applied -that the housemaid could do it herself yearly, or whenever an -opportunity offers to re-paint the treads. Housekeepers should, in my -opinion, raise a statue to Aspinall, for he certainly has removed the -difficulties that lay in wait for the would-be artistic mistress of the -household; for now she is rendered quite independent of the British -workman, and can either paint her house herself, or give it to a man who -can be trusted to apply the paint, albeit no amount of instruction will -teach him to match a colour or produce anything save a hideous -caricature of the paper we give him, and whose ‘heye’ is absolutely -incapable of seeing what a ridiculous muddle he is making; and I, -therefore, cannot too often impress upon my readers, especially on those -who live far from really artistic workpeople, that if they want their -houses to be really nice, they must indulge in Aspinall, and must insist -on the unbroken, unpicked-out surface of paint that use of this most -invaluable enamel produces most satisfactorily. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -NOOKS AND CORNERS. - - -I think so very much of the appearance of our rooms depends on how we -arrange our corners that I have had two large drawings made from corners -in my present house, which, at the risk of appearing egotistical, I am -going to write about; not because I consider them perfect--no house can -really be perfect unless far more money is spent upon it than I am able -to spend--but because I consider they will in some measure assist those -who, like myself, are very fond of pretty and comfortable things, but -are not prepared to ruin themselves in order to obtain this most -desirable combination. I wrote so fully in my former book on the -arrangement of sitting-rooms that I am only going to touch lightly on -the orthodox papering and painting of dining-, drawing-, and -morning-rooms, reserving all my new ideas for the billiard-room and -library, neither of which rooms were considered likely to be required -for the modest young couple starting in life, for whom I more -particularly designed that special volume. - -As I said before, this book is intended for older folks, or for those -who have more of this world’s goods than Edwin and Angelina were -supposed to possess; and, therefore, it really supplements--it does not -in any measure do away with--‘From Kitchen to Garret;’ and as I am most -anxious to impress this upon my readers by not repeating any of the -information I gave there, I intend especially in the present chapter to -denote how, with a little care, the modest house can be expanded into a -more artistic abode, or how a bigger house can be furnished, the while -we do not set on one side the furniture with which we began life, and -which we possessed ourselves of with so much gladness and with such a -sense of importance--at least, I hope all my readers did, for the -culture of home and of all that makes a home cannot, in my opinion, be -too much developed. Therefore, from their earliest days children should -be encouraged to think about their own special rooms, and should be -taught to notice and have a voice in the arrangement of all the house. -If the house is thoroughly appreciated and cultivated, if, above all, it -is the prettiest and happiest place our children know of, we shall not -have much difficulty with them when they cease to be children and begin -to feel they have a separate existence to ours. They have this separate -existence, and we should endeavour that, without in any measure relaxing -the ties of duty and politeness, they should be able to feel they are -themselves and not our bond-slaves; and this can only be done by -consulting and talking with them freely about all we have and do, -letting them, if they will, develop their own tastes gradually, but not -in a manner that will oust us from our proper place or jar with any of -our own pet ideas on the subject of home and its decoration and -embellishment; for it is better to endure the ugliest place in the world -cheerfully than to live in artistic completeness, if this same artistic -completeness means sweeping away all the landmarks of our elders and -betters, and leaving them stranded in an unfamiliar world of new tables -and chairs, which are nothing to them, and but ill replace the furniture -which reminds them of so much that we never knew about or have entirely -forgotten. I have known a girl in her zeal for beauty make her mother so -abjectly miserable by removing a round table, once the centre of the -scattered houseful of boys and girls, and by ruthlessly disposing of -clumsy and hideous furniture, made precious by memories of those who -have gone into the land of shadows, that I am compelled at times to -allow sentiment to sway me and to say, Consider first whether a thing -has associations before, in one’s anxiety for beauty, one does away with -it. If it have, let it remain, for nothing can ever replace it; but if -it have not (and I sternly myself refuse to become sentimental over a -chair or footstool), by all means get rid of it, and replace it with -something lighter and more modern. As a rule, this will not last long -enough for us to cling round it mentally or to deck it with any of the -finer sentiment that is inseparable from much of the heavy mahogany and -walnut under which so many of my disciples still groan, and which has -been handed down from one generation to another, each generation -becoming more and more discontented with it, until the present are in -open revolt against that which gave our grandmothers and -great-grandmothers the greatest possible gratification to possess. - -The pretty corners in which we all delight, and the lightness and -brightness that now characterise our houses, would have been the source -of endless woe and trouble to the dear ladies of old. The corners would -have meant dust and ‘gimcracks,’ and as the light colours in which we -revel would and do soon become soiled, they, too, would have been -deprecated because they showed the dirt, which was present equally in -the darker rooms, but not being visible was not taken any notice of -until the annual clean, when all was made aggressively shining and -absolutely spotless, remaining so for about a week, when dust began to -gather again, but it was unnoticed because the dark materials did not -show the dirt, which, however, could be felt, did our finger come in -contact with the rough moreen or dismal repps in which their souls -delighted, and of which specimens still haunt us in the houses of those -who are possessors of similar heirlooms with which they dare not part. - -Then, too, the dear ladies were so fond of stuffing up their windows and -darkening their rooms still more by the drawing down of blinds and the -eliminating of every morsel of sunshine, for fear their precious carpets -would become faded; and I am sorry to say that this affection for -half-dark rooms yet lingers among many who ought to know better. But -when I stumble into one of these rooms, where one cannonades against the -furniture and falls over footstools in the half-light, I always feel -convinced that the blinds are drawn to prevent the sun beating too -warmly on the faded complexion of the owner of that house, or to hide -the ravages of time, that the liberally applied pearl-powder and rouge -and the sticky harsh dye are powerless to remove entirely, but that -almost disappear in the rose-tinted chambers I so abhor and despise; and -I therefore know what to expect when I am ushered into one of these -stuffy, dismal rooms, and am thankful when I get out of it; for the mind -that can delight in defying age with paint and dye is not likely to find -me of the smallest use. I should say at once, Do away with the blinds -and shorten the curtains, and let in some air; and as the owner of that -house would sooner dye--I mean die--than accede to my request, I have -nothing to say to her, and get away as soon as I can. Any amount of -decoration for the house I like and appreciate, but I cannot appreciate -or understand the ambition that makes one Aspinall one’s face and -pretend to be five-and-twenty when one knows one will never see forty -again. - -Corners are especially appreciated, unfortunately, by the ladies who -draw their blinds down and never face the eye of day save in a carriage, -with a spotted veil over their features and a shading parasol, and no -doubt some of these individuals will look at the pictures in this book -and may see these words of wisdom; if they do, I hope they will consider -them, wash their faces, and pull up their blinds. I can assure them -they will be far happier and healthier, more especially if they realise -that the time they spend in tiring their heads and painting their faces -is absolutely wasted--it neither makes them younger nor more -ornamental--and that it would be far better employed in working for -others, or in making their homes as cheerful as unfailing sunshine and -fresh air invariably do. Therefore, down with the curtains and up with -the blinds, and let us have as much cheerful sunshine as this rather -disappointing climate will allow us to possess, and the first corner I -would make is the summer corner, for, that once made, dismal darkness -and stuffiness would be an impossibility. - -The special corner illustrated here is one of the windows in my present -morning-room, which is at the end of the room, in a curious species of -square nook to itself; there is an enormous species of bow-window -beside, where I have my desk and other belongings, and beyond that again -is a third window, below which I have a long book-case full of books; -but though this window is to some extent unique, the seat illustrated -here, which is an adaptation or rather an enlargement of Giles’ ‘Cosy -Corner,’ could be put under any window and of course enlarged immensely; -if desired, it could go across one side of the room, and the arm with a -curtain could come out straight from the wall of the room, thus making a -sheltered place in which to sit and read; and breaking up admirably the -long straight look of the wall, which all too often makes an ordinary -room the most uninteresting place in the world, and the most difficult -to render artistic and pleasant. The right-hand side of the seat should -be at least two feet longer than the left-hand side, or else the seat -will look too much like a family pew, which cognomen one of my friends -is rude enough to give to my present seat, but arranged with the ends of -an uneven length, the seat looks like nothing save what it is--a -remarkably comfortable lounge, where one can either sit and read or -talk, and it forms an extremely pretty addition to any room. - -The special seat illustrated here is enamelled Aspinall’s electric -turquoise, and is upholstered in Colbourne’s yellow and white Louis XVI. -damask, at 2_s._ 11½_d._ a yard, but I intend soon to replace this -covering by dark yellow stamped - -[Illustration: FIG. 7.--A Summer Corner.] - -corduroy velveteen, for, pretty as the Louis XVI. damask is, and -admirable as it is for curtains and table-cloths, it does not answer for -hard wear, and soon becomes soiled and rubbed, a fact Giles warned me -about; but I was anxious to experiment myself on the subject; and having -done so, and found it does not answer, here solemnly warn my readers -from using this charming material for tight coverings or where real hard -wear is expected of it. Tightly upholstered furniture should be always -covered in something that will really wear, not only because of the -expense, but because of the worry of having workmen always in the house -replacing the furniture which has become soiled and worn. - -But whatever the seat is upholstered in, the fringe round the seat -should not be forgotten, and it should almost touch the ground; mine -does not, and in consequence the seat always has the appearance of -having grown out of its frocks; and the material should be in some -measure a contrast to the colour used for enamelling the ends and -woodwork; indeed, I much prefer the ends, &c., to be of some polished -wood, while the straight piece above the seat and below the shelf could -be either plainly painted or polished wood, or else it could be made of -brocade or Japanese leather paper. Mr. Giles puts Lincrusta in those he -sells to fit into recesses, but I cannot endure this stiff and very ugly -material, and always ask him to replace it for me with something -preferable, the excellent Japanese leather looking better, in my -opinion, than anything else. The straight piece above the seat, if -covered in brocade and furnished with tiny hooks, would make an -admirable place to display the miniatures and odds and ends of silver -that are so fashionable; really old and valuable fans could also be -displayed here to advantage, and a thin sheet of talc could be stretched -over all. Glass would be too heavy, and the talc would protect the fans, -&c., from dust, and yet be sufficiently transparent. - -The shelf for china is part of the seat: this is of wood, either -enamelled or polished, and should be carefully arranged; the tall jar -containing grasses at the end of the shelf in the sketch is really in -the corner in my room, and fills up the space between the curtain and -the wall, and in the opposite corner from the frieze-rail hangs one of -Benson’s admirable copper lamps with a copper shade; this throws the -light down on the seat, and enables one to read there, should one wish -to do so, the cushioned corner below the lamp being perhaps the most -comfortable spot in the whole seat. Just on the other side of the arms, -and below the top of them, I had small tea-cup shelves put; they shut -down completely, and when not in use are scarcely visible, but they make -a great deal of difference to one’s comfort; for one can rest one’s cup -there easily, and in consequence this corner makes a favourite spot -during the ceremony of afternoon tea, which we always hold in the -morning-room, our present drawing-room being only used when lighted up, -as it is dark and depressing, because of the numerous trees by which we -are surrounded, and that make it unbearable until the lamps are lighted -and the yellow and white decoration stands out in the admirable manner -in which these two colours always do when once artificial light falls -upon them. - -The big pillows are in yellow, deep-red, and electric turquoise, and -were bought at Maple’s for 16_s._ 11_d._ each; but those who really -possess numerous pillows, soft and comfortable enough to lean against, -but hideous to contemplate, will be glad to hear that Maple sells these -frilled silk covers ready to slip on, which would transform in a moment -the most frightful pillow ever presented to an unfortunate bride, who -yet dare not do away with the kind gift of a relative who may be has not -gone with the times or holds the stern opinion that a gift one makes -oneself is worth any amount of presents bought in a shop: so it is, if -the work be present day work, and really artistic; but the beaded -cushion or (the worst development of all) that covered with crazy -patchwork, still exists unfortunately, and may exist, blamelessly and -usefully, if slipped into one of these covers, which can be whipped off -in a moment, should the donor appear unexpectedly, or be even pointed -out as our pious endeavour to preserve the ‘beautiful’ work by a cover -one does not mind if one spoils: an excellently plausible excuse that -spares the feelings of the maker and our own sensitive optics at the -same time. - -The curtain on my seat is hanging on a brass rod, and is made from a -remarkably beautiful pattern of yellow and brown stamped velveteen known -as the Graham velveteen, and sold by Graham & Biddle; both sides of the -curtain are alike, as I have doubled the material, and I am very fond -of this special bit of colour and design; but if the velveteen is -objected to, the curtain can be made from the soft artistic silk -Shoolbred sells at 2_s._ a yard; this must be double too, and put on -very full, or else it will soon become skimpy and flabby. The table at -the end of the seat has a loose cover of dark-red Bokhara plush, a -capital species of ribbed plush edged with ball fringe; this costs 6_s._ -11½_d._ a yard from Colbourne, and it takes a yard and a quarter to make -the square, which is necessary for one of these cloths; a big yellow pot -holding a palm stands on the table, the palm giving place whenever -possible to a flowering plant, a great white azalea, and a big white -rose tree, and also an orange tree with flowers and fruit, and a -flowering daphne having all appeared there to the greatest possible -advantage. Beyond the curtain, at the extreme end of the seat, I hang a -long Japanese bamboo, and have flowers here whenever possible. These -bamboos are most decorative, and look nice with comparatively few -flowers in them. - -On the other side of the seat, at the end, a palm stands on the low, -square, velvet-covered stools I prefer to anything else for pot stands; -and at the extreme end I always have one of Mrs. M‘Clelland’s admirable -newspaper and magazine stands; these are the right height for use and -stand on two crossed legs; one side takes papers and the other -magazines; a paper-knife is slipped into a bracket at the side, and -altogether the stand is a wonderful comfort, and above all makes an -excellent present for a man--that most difficult of all creatures to -give a present to, unless one half ruin oneself in order to make him an -offering. - -The walls of this special room are covered with Mr. Smee’s admirable -blue paper at 4_s._ the piece, all the paint is Aspinall’s -electric-turquoise enamel, the frieze is plain gold Japanese leather -paper, and the ceiling is in squares; the moulding that forms each -square is coloured cream, and the squares themselves are filled in with -a well-designed yellow and white ceiling paper from Mr. Smee’s at 3_s._ -a piece; the floor is covered with yellow and white matting, and has -several rugs lying about, and the curtains are Louis XVI. tapestry, in -yellow and white, edged with the usual ball fringe--the smaller windows -having this only, the larger one having ‘guipure vitrage’ on it as well. -The frieze has been embellished most successfully in three or four -places with great branches of Japanese-looking japonica in the natural -colours; and this is an immense improvement, as one requires touches of -red undoubtedly about the room. The branches do not go all round the -room in the orthodox manner, but are scattered in three or four places, -and are the work of an artist. A good effect can be obtained by merely -outlining with a careful brush the patterns that are on all Japanese -leather papers with a little ‘Scinde red.’ Of course this must not be -done all over the frieze, but simply here and there, and should be -executed with taste, and a great amount of common sense as well. - -Before I say any more about this room, or about the other corner which -has been arranged for winter use, I want to draw the attention of my -readers especially to the windows. My plan of doing away with blinds was -illustrated as regards a bow window, and the tiny squares of the manor -house windows before, but no one has ever seemed able to grasp the -manner in which an ordinary flat window or a French window can be -managed. This window is the ordinary flat window; and can anything be -simpler than the white curtains of ‘guipure vitrage’ stretched on two -slight rods fastened on the window _frame, not on the sash_? These -curtains remain in place, whether the window is open or shut, and, in -consequence, were they used in a bedroom, one could dress comfortably -with the window open, the curtains remaining in place and serving as a -blind. With the ordinary short blind, which vulgarises any house, and to -which English house-mothers cling with a devotion worthy of a better -cause, one must keep the windows closed during the process of dressing, -as the blind goes up with the window, and leaves the room exposed to the -glances of anyone who may be passing by. The thicker curtains hang from -a separate brass rod, which is rather larger than those used for the -muslin. These curtains are attached to rings which allow them to be -drawn easily along the rods at night, and when the sun shines too warmly -and brightly, and, therefore, no hideously ugly blinds are required; for -even ladies whose dubious complexions forbid the free entrance of the -blessed sun can make their rooms as dark as they like by drawing these -curtains, which can be lined with a thick sateen, and should be edged -with a ball fringe, to break the hard line which always spoils the look -of any curtain when left untrimmed. ‘Guipure vitrage,’ which is to be -had from Wallace, from 10¾_d._ a yard, makes admirable under curtains. -Of course it is much dearer than Kay’s butter muslin, or his -easily-draped Indian muslin at 2¾_d._ a yard. But then these muslins -require making up, and must be edged with softly falling frills, which -should be from 3 to 5 inches in width, according to the size of the -window. These frills are put on without any heading, and fall in a sort -of cascade. The frilled muslins sold now by the yard at any big shop are -not nearly so satisfactory, as the frills are goffered, and are very -stiff. Making the frilled curtains is a serious consideration: they must -be done by hand, as the muslin will not stand the machine, and the -hemming required is rather hard work, and therefore ‘guipure vitrage,’ -despite its price, should recommend itself to those who are not given to -sewing. It merely requires hemming top and bottom, and the rods pass -through these hems, which should be loose enough to allow of the curtain -being moved to cover the window entirely, should this be necessary, or -to part in the centre, so that any view there may be need not be -obscured. - -In the ordinary London house, where all sorts of endeavours are made to -completely hide the doings of the inhabitants of the rooms from the -passers-by, these curtains, especially in the Indian muslin from Kay’s, -are invaluable. No one can see in, and all can see out, while further -protection could be obtained by flower boxes along the window-ledges in -the summer, and put inside the rooms in the winter, if desired. A couple -of iron brackets could be put out, one each side of the window, -Aspinalled to match the rest of the paint, and on this the box could -rest, full of flowering plants, when the weather outside would be too -cold for them to live and flourish. The whole of the house should be -done alike with the curtains, of which a double set should be made. The -‘guipure vitrage’ must not be very much starched, and it must be -carefully pulled out and stretched before it is quite dry, or else it -will seem to have shrunk; but with care and proper washing these -curtains would last three or four years, and, as there is no real -trouble in making, should soon be the favourite material for these -short curtains. The cost would be about 4_s._ a window, so that it would -be easy for anyone to see what their house would cost them. Naturally -the other muslin would come only to about 1_s._ a window; in this case -the sewing must be done by the owner of the house or her maids. - -I think from this sketch anyone can see how the ordinary blindless -window is managed; while the way to arrange a French window is shown in -the frontispiece so plainly that no further description can possibly be -needed. - -And now we come to the winter corner, the sketch of which requires very -little comment from me, as I think it speaks for itself; but my readers -may be interested to know that the sofa illustrated here began life as a -wretched stiff sofa with a scroll end, and no side whatever, and was -bought very cheaply of a country tradesman. When I wanted to make a -comfortable seat by the fire, I got another local genius to put the -scroll end upright, and to put on the side. This transformed the seat at -once, and made a most comfortable lounge, more especially as I had the -legs cut down, until it is only fourteen inches high, the seat being -about twenty-four inches wide. This is a seat _pur et simple_; but by -putting a couple of pillows on the end of the sofa nearest the wall and -stuffing them comfortably down there, one makes an excellent rest for -one’s head, and can lie there in warmth and peace. This corner, by the -way, is a special favourite of Max, the tabby cat, who much resents -being moved therefrom, and retreats in great dudgeon to a chair from -Liberty, which stands the other side of the fireplace, which is only -just indicated in the sketch, and which is a charming but simple design, -from Shuffery in Welbeck Street. - -Behind the sofa stands the corner cabinet made for me by Mr. Smee, and -which is just what such a cabinet ought to be. I have seen a corner -cabinet which looked as if its middle had suddenly collapsed, the two -sides going into a miserable point, which was as ugly as it was -unsatisfactory, and I could not think what was the matter with it, until -I discovered that the point ought to have been behind, and that the -front should be comparatively straight, as in our illustration. This -cabinet is enamelled electric - -[Illustration: FIG. 8.--A Winter Corner.] - -turquoise, and has brass handles to the drawers and cupboard, which are -made for use, and hold an immense variety of things. The drawers are -divided in half inside, which is a great convenience, as it enables one -to keep papers and properties of all sorts and conditions separate and -distinct; while the cupboard also has a shelf in it, and is the whole -length and width of the bottom part, thus holding a good deal. The two -little velveteen curtains are to break the monotony which would have -been caused had the shelves been left open; and the top and shelves -generally hold any quantity of china--the dull yellow and blue jars one -buys at Gorringe’s being especially suitable for this room; as is the -deep red Kaga and Imari ware imported in such quantities by Shoolbred, -Liberty, and Whiteley, and indeed by almost every second shop nowadays. - -The table shown in this illustration is one that is remarkably useful by -reason of its second tray. My own table is covered in dull yellow -corduroy velveteen, edged with a ball fringe; but if room were a great -object, and there were much to store away, a loose table-cloth, in serge -or Bokhara plush, could be thrown over it to conceal anything that was -hidden thereunder. I am not fond of these makeshifts myself; but in a -small room, where every single inch is of consequence, work that would -be perhaps unsightly to leave about can be neatly folded and put on this -tray; and another place to put away could be afforded, if we replaced my -fireside sofa (which Wallace will supply at 5_l._ 15_s._ 6_d._ complete) -by a sofa I saw at Hampton’s just lately. This is an improvement on the -very useful box-ottomans I advocate in many bedrooms, and is much like a -sofa with a tolerably high side and two ends; the top of the sofa lifts -up, and discloses a good deep box, which would hold an immense quantity -of things; while the whole affair does not look like a box-ottoman, but -resembles a very comfortable and pretty sofa; this costs about 7_l._ -17_s._ 6_d._, and would be of immense use in a room where one had a -great deal to put away, and very few convenient places to store one’s -property in. This would stand where my sofa is in the sketch, or could -be put in a recess one side of the fire; it would look well in either -situation. I think this corner, too, gives some idea of how pictures can -be hung about in an informal manner; although in every case these are -represented in the sketch as being much higher than they really are; -there is no formal arrangement, yet all seems to fall into place without -trouble, and the whole effect is very good; flowers and plants are again -to be found here, and indeed I cannot say too much about the -desirability of filling our rooms with both plants and flowers. No house -can be pretty without a great many of both; and no one who has not seen -the immense difference plenty of plants make can have any idea of the -satisfactory effect of these great adjuncts to the real decoration of a -house. They cost money, but not one quarter of what they used to; and -even in the depth of winter in London one can buy heaps of narcissus and -jonquils absurdly cheaply, a shillingsworth making an appreciable -difference in any house! - -Beyond the chair just indicated in the sketch is a species of square -arch, and beyond that a square end to the room itself; I did not at -first see what I could do with this most ugly part of an ugly room, but -at last the brilliant idea struck me, of which I give a tiny sketch -here. I had a series of brackets put up the arch to hold china; the back -of these brackets and the panelling above the arch itself was filled in -with red and gold Japanese leather paper, and on each bracket I placed -one of Elliott’s pots; the sides of the brackets were painted by Mr. -M‘Clelland’s clever brush with red, yellow, and pink roses, and I at -once found myself in possession of a charming object for contemplation, -instead of a yawning gap, preposterous in structure and hideous to look -at. By the left-hand side of the arch I place a beautifully embroidered -Japanese silk screen in the most delicate shade of pink; I can dwell -lovingly on this, as it was not my own selection, but was a Christmas -present from someone who knew and studied my tastes, and it gives just -the right finish to that corner; behind the last bracket stands a palm -in an art-pot, and another little table with a blue cloth is in front of -the screen, and completes that side of the room. - -Below the last window is the long low book-case mentioned before; it is -only about three feet high, and is enamelled electric turquoise like the -rest of the room, and each shelf is edged with a frill of yellow printed -linen; the top of these shelves makes an excellent rest for -photographs, china, and plants, and is thus finished; had the book-case -not been placed there I cannot think what I should have done, as no one -can sit in that part of the room, which really is a tiny ante-room, or -entrance merely, to what is not at the best a large room, but which -would have been all the better had the eccentric designer done away with -his arch and put all the space at his command into the room itself; but -he did not, and so I have made the best use I can of the room as it is, -though I really believe in so doing I have shortened my life -perceptibly! - -[Illustration: FIG. 9.--Arches for a Double Room.] - -At the end of the room, opposite the window under which the book-case -is, is a door--and such a door! when we came it was grained maple, and -was the centre of a wooden partition, above which was a neat fanlight of -starred glass. I shall never forget it--never! I have now put on each -side of the door a curtain of Wallace’s ‘daisy brocade,’ and another on -the door itself on one of Maple’s rods, which open and shut with the -door. Above this there is a shelf to hold china, and the glass is -replaced by leaded squares of cathedral glass. I mention all these -details to show what a difference a small amount of common sense, a -little woodwork, and a little money will make; indeed, in these days of -artistic merit, when upholsterers are educated gentlemen, and the shop -is no longer a badge of infamy, I think no one who is not utterly -obstinate and tasteless need have an ugly house; though I must confess I -still have to grieve over the many absolutely hideous houses in the land -arranged by those who are not tasteless--I wish they were: then one -could do something with them--but are so permeated by vile and vulgar -tastes of their own that they will not be taught, and continue to offend -our eyes with their belongings, regardless of the fact that in these -days it is really easier to have pretty things than to have ugly ones. -Before I pass on to other nooks and corners which can be made, I should -like once more to impress upon my readers that for a morning-room -nothing is so absolutely successful as regards decoration as this -arrangement of greeny-blue, yellow and red. I have sat in it and -contemplated it for just seven years, and I am more and more convinced -that nothing else is so entirely satisfactory in every way; naturally we -need not adhere to Mr. Smee’s 4_s._ paper, or there would be too much -monotony about it. Marigold 81 at 5_s._ 6_d._ from Morris is just as -beautiful, while Pither’s less expensive ‘blossom,’ ‘berry,’ and -bay-tree papers, which average 1_s._ 6_d._ a piece, can all be used -according to the size and shape of the room. And once more I should say -most emphatically, Study your room; a dark dull room could not take this -scheme of blue, and were such a chamber taken for the morning-room, -which I hope and trust would not be the case, I should advocate another -scheme of colouring altogether, and would suggest either a really -beautiful pink and green floral paper called ‘Amaryllis’ at 10_s._ 6_d._ -the piece from Wallace, or else Haines’s ‘rose’ paper at 3_s._ 9_d._ -With either, I should suggest warm ivory paint, a pink and cream ceiling -paper, and either cretonne curtains, in a cretonne to harmonise with the -paper, or else of soft green Liberty silk, the greens procurable there -being the greens to harmonise with pink, Liberty pink and green -commingled making a most charming room, but one that should not be -attempted cheaply. Green and pink must be in expensive materials to -procure the proper shades, a common green and an inferior pink being -about the most terrible colours one can have, although a common blue -runs it very hard, as sporting individuals would say. A green -carpet--either the green ‘lily,’ that always satisfactory, inexpensive -carpet from Wallace, sold in blues, greens, and reds, at 3_s._ 11_d._ a -yard, wide width, or else a dull green pile carpet from Pither’s--should -be used in a room decorated in this manner, but the green must be an -artistic green, and have no fidgety pattern to distract the eye or -attract attention to what we should never see, unless our attention were -really called to it. - -If the morning-room were in the country, were a very hot room, and only -used in summer, it would look very charming in sea-green and white. -Morris has a beautiful sea-green paper at 3_s._ 6_d._; and Chappell & -Payne have a very pretty sea-green and white-chrysanthemum paper at a -little under 2_s._, the same colour, which could be used were Morris too -expensive. Either sea-green or ivory paint could be used. There could be -a hand-painted frieze on sea-green ‘tectorium,’ of white lilac and the -graceful white broom and their own foliage, and a pale sea-green -cretonne should be chosen, with bunches of white lilac on. The floor -should be covered with sea-green matting and rugs, which would bring a -little colour into the room, and the furniture should be sea-green -enamel upholstered in the cretonne. In the pink and green room, by the -way, the furniture should be malachite green-stained, to be had from -Wallace, and the muslin next the window should be Helbronner’s pink and -green lily muslin. This is expensive, but it is by far the prettiest -muslin for such a room that could be found. I think low basket-chairs -are still the best chairs for a morning-room, but, if they can be -afforded, one or two higher chairs should be provided. I find -Shoolbred’s corduroy velveteen the best thing possible to cover -basket-chairs with, unless one has a maid who is clever enough to unpick -the cretonne covers and wash and replace them; then nothing is as nice -as cretonne, and this same material, in some appropriate shade, would do -for the - -[Illustration: FIG. 10.--Simple Mantel Draping.] - -larger chairs. The cost of these must depend on the money we have to -spend, but a good chair with comfortable springs costs from 5_l._ to -8_l._, and, if the money can be managed, I should advise as much as this -being given; it will be cheaper in the long run. I think the most -difficult matter of all to explain by mere words is the arrangement of a -fireplace which is already supplied with one of the ‘handsome statuary’ -marble mantel-pieces, which are so much admired by builders and folks -who cannot help being impressed with the idea that marble mantel-pieces -and a claim to gentility go hand in hand, and I am always imploring -people not to drape these imitations with elaborate flutings and -flounces of muslin and general awfulnesses. If the morning-room--or, -indeed, any other room--is burdened with one of these mantel-pieces, -paint it boldly with Aspinall (the paint can always be removed either -with Carson’s ‘detergent’ or else by the ‘Eclipse Paint Remover’). See -that it matches the rest of the paint in the room; then place along it -the simple drapery I have illustrated here. This is quite sufficient. It -hides a good piece of the underpart of the structure, and as it can be -shaken daily does not collect dust and dirt, as must all more elaborate -arrangements inevitably. This drapery is made by taking a straight piece -of material about twenty-four inches wider and twenty-four inches longer -than the mantel-piece itself; the sides and front are edged with a cord -and a tassel, or else a few pompons are hung at the front corners; the -drapery is placed straight along the mantel-piece, the uncorded edge -against the wall, and drapes itself, being kept stationary by the -ornaments and photographs, &c., we usually put on the shelf. Bokhara -plush makes the best drapery, but if this is used three or four should -be made at the same time, or else the plush cuts to waste. Of course the -rest can be used in other ways; it makes admirable flat bell-pulls for -bedrooms, with a brass ring at the end, and could be used as toilet -covers; but corduroy velveteen is nearly as pretty, and, being the exact -width required, would be the best material to use; it is only 2_s._ -9_d._ a yard. Whatever is used, the corners of the drapery should be -lined with satin, or sateen, either in a paler colour than the drapery -itself or in some contrast, as the corners show, and would not look nice -at all unless they were lined. This completes the drapery, which is the -only one that should be allowed, as it is simple and cleanly, which is -more than can be said for any other arrangement. The pattern was given -me by a friend, who bought it of a first-rate upholsterer in Paris, and -is so simple, I cannot think why no one ever thought of it before in -England. - -Before we pass away from speaking of the fireplace, I should like to -describe one or two ways of filling up the recesses generally found in -present-day houses. In a dining-room I should always place the buffets -there which I recommend in place of sideboards; then, in the -drawing-room or morning-room, Giles’s cosy corner, illustrated in every -advertising paper, is to be recommended for one side; this seat goes -straight along the recess, and has an end that returns along the end of -the recess, giving a corner in which to sit. As a rule these seats will -take two people comfortably. Above the padded back is the same straight -piece illustrated in the ‘summer corner,’ surmounted by the -bracket-rail; but if people do not wish to go to the expense of an -elaborately upholstered and spring seat, they can easily make a seat for -themselves by having a wooden frame on four legs made to fit the recess; -the top should be covered with sacking or webbing, along the front of -the seat should be nailed a full flounce of corduroy velveteen lined -with holland; a square cushion, made from wool and hair mixed, should be -placed along the top of the sacking, and the back should be formed by -hanging two square cushions on the wall so arranged that one dovetails -with the other in the corner; these should be high enough to allow of -using a finish of Giles’s bracket-rail for china, which should be put -along the top of the cushions and keep them in their places, and a lamp -can be hung over the seat, either from a hook placed in the ceiling -itself or hanging out from the frieze-rail from one of the brass arms -sold by Benson, on purpose for holding lamps, for about 10_s._ 6_d._ -each, that would give light to anyone who sat to read by the fire in a -room in which gas was banished, as I trust it may soon be banished from -every sitting-room in the land, either in favour of the beautiful -electric light, for the universal use of which I pine, or in favour of -lamps, which may give trouble, but save that trouble over and over again -in the manner in which things remain clean and good that would have -become both spoiled and soiled had gas been used where they were. -Another recess can be filled by using Mrs. Talbot Coke’s design, -published in the ‘Queen,’ and which I have her permission for giving -here, and which is not only very pretty but decidedly useful. It could -be made by any carpenter first, as three simple shelves; the top and -bottom shelves should be of equal depth, the centre one should be rather -narrower, and the whole arrangement should not be above the line of the -mantelshelf; along the edge of the shelves should be glued strips of -Japanese leather paper, and the top shelf should be divided as in the -sketch, the arches being either simple wooden arches cut out of thin -wood, or else of the Moorish fretwork sold by Hindley & Barker; the -bottom shelf should have three separate small curtains along it, the -division between being strips of wood decorated with Japanese leather. -Of course this arrangement should be enamelled to match the rest of the -paint, and the silk which is used for the curtains should be a contrast; -and great care must be taken to employ someone who does not make his -woodwork with a heavy hand (as some cooks make pastry), for I once saw -one of these recess arrangements carried out in such a way that the -whole effect was dreadful, being entirely marred by the thick wood and -heavy arches of which it was composed. Any china can be arranged -therein, for the top makes an admirable resting-place for odds and ends -and one’s favourite photographs or books. An armchair should be put by -the side, and this will suggest at once a comfortable reading-nook for -a winter’s afternoon without any more elaborate arrangement. - -[Illustration: FIG. 11.--A Recess.] - -I am so often asked to advise people, on paper, how to arrange their -furniture, and despite my strenuous refusals to contemplate such a -waste of time, am so constantly importuned to do so, that I venture to -pause here, and give one or two hints on the subject of the general -arrangement of sitting-rooms; as although it is naturally quite -impossible to tell positively where to place a chair I have never seen -in a house I have never entered, it is possible, I trust, to give -general hints which shall enable my readers to make their sitting-rooms -rather more comfortable than most of them seem able to do at present. - -For example, no matter how small a room is, an enormous amount of -comfort and a certain idea of unlimited space is always given by placing -a screen judiciously by the door; this prevents the whole of the room -being on view at once, and gives an opportunity of placing a chair or -two behind it, which we could not do were the door to open into the -passage and leave a yawning gulf behind one’s back, or were it to open -into the room and so leave an exposed place at once where no one could -sit, because they would feel they were sitting in the passage; and, -again, no chairs should be isolated or put out of humanity’s reach; if -they are, they will surely be sought out at once by some shy caller or -visitor, and we shall have to spend our time endeavouring to draw him or -her into the circle. By this I do not mean that our chairs should be -arranged as if we were expecting the assembling together of a -prayer-meeting, but that they should be within reach both of ourselves, -the fire in winter, the window in summer, and of the light always; then -shall we be quite sure our guests are happy, or, if they are not, that -it is their own fault and not ours. - -There should be a place for each member of the household in any room, -and attention to these details even causes the furniture to in some -measure arrange itself and be so placed that it shows to the greatest -advantage, and can at the same time be used by the owners in the best -manner possible as well. If more lamps are required in a room than the -two or three which are usually quite sufficient for the purposes of -general lighting, those who require special lamps should be encouraged -to look after them themselves, especially in the case of the daughters -of the house, on whom, in most middle-class families, should devolve all -the flower-tending and finer parts of housekeeping, of which, by that -time, the house-mother will no doubt be weary, and will only be too -glad to hand over to those who are full of energy as well as of the very -newest ideas on the subject of how to arrange the flowers, on which so -much of the appearance of the house depends. - -I like the sofa placed out straight from the side of the fire, as in -Fig. 7, or straight along in front of it, about seven or eight feet from -the front of the fire; and in some rooms the piano, that most -undecorative piece of furniture, can be put with one end straight -against the wall in the recess, the other straight out into the room -with the sofa against the back, or else a comfortable chair, as -represented in Fig. 11, which will, I hope, give my readers a good idea -how to manage a piano, which can be placed either out from the wall in -the recess, across one corner of a room, or out in the room itself, and, -indeed, in any way that will not necessitate its back against the wall, -a position that is fatal to anything like music, for it is terrible to -play with one’s back to one’s audience, or to sing straight into the -wall, which throws one’s voice straight back at one all the time one is -singing. As will be seen from the sketch, the baize at the back of the -piano is first covered with a good Japanese leather paper, and then soft -silk is carelessly draped over it, finishing with a long piece at one -side; the top of the piano is first covered with the soft silk, which is -fastened by tiny tacks inside the lid to keep it in its place, and then -by a piece of Japanese embroidery; at one end is a tall palm-stand from -Liberty with a big brass pot holding a palm; at the back, where there is -no distinct drapery, stands a small screen, and at the other end is a -Cairene inlaid stool holding a jar of grasses; but I should prefer -myself a much taller arrangement, as the end of the piano is not at all -a pretty object. The silk which is found in the front of most pianos -should be replaced by Japanese leather paper. If draping is objected -to--and it should never be attempted by anyone who cannot pay some -artist in drapery to manage it for them, unless, of course, their own -fingers are clever at it--a very good substitute is formed by using one -of Shoolbred’s piano-rods, from which can be hung a simple full curtain -of some good and beautiful brocade, such as is their Nismes brocade. The -top should always be arranged as shown in the sketch, for though these -things may deaden the sound, - -[Illustration: FIG. 12.--A Draped Piano.] - -and a good musician would, no doubt, rage about them, they can be -removed in three seconds to a side table should music be the order of -the day, and could be replaced at once without giving anyone any undue -amount of trouble. I have seen a writing-table in a very small room -placed against the piano, the back of which, having been, first covered -with brocade, served as a species of ‘hold-all’ for all that is usually -found on a writing-table; but I cannot seriously recommend this, as it -is certainly incongruous to find cards of invitation, balls of string, -date-cases and paper-knives, and general _débris_, fastened about a -piano, which must, I am sure, resent tremendously this extraordinary -manner of embellishing it. I have never seen a piano arranged in a -better manner than the one illustrated here by the kind permission of my -successor at my dear Shortlands house, in whose hands the traditions of -the house are well kept up, and who has filled my shoes there much -better than I filled them myself; one of her improvements being the -drapery over the conservatory door, which I have illustrated here, so -many people having doors like that one and being quite unable to manage -them properly. - -The door is composed, as are all similar doors, of glass at the top and -two small panels in the wooden frame below; these are filled in with -Japanese leather paper, a brass handle and one finger-plate are added -(only one finger-plate should ever be put on a door, and that should be -put above the door-handle); and on the top of the glass is placed one of -the pretty bead blinds; this is a graduated one, and is just indicated -in the sketch. On the left-hand side, nearest the fire, hangs a straight -full piece of drapery, edged all round with ball fringe, while on the -other side is draped a curtain with a drawing string, which lets down in -a moment to hide the door entirely at night. A further idea of how this -room is now arranged is given by the tall palm-stand, and the end of a -deep, low, beautiful sofa from Liberty, which I never see without -breaking the tenth commandment. The sides and back are quite straight, -the seat is very broad and is heaped with the frilled pillows, which are -as popular as they are useful and pretty; the sofa is enamelled white, -and is covered with a beautiful yellow brocade, the curtains beyond, by -the window, being of a Morris cretonne, which resembles both in colour -and design the brown and yellow velveteen from Graham & Biddle mentioned -before. This design makes admirable portières, - -[Illustration: FIG. 13.--Conservatory Door.] - -and is always a pleasure to look at. The tambourine is hung on the dado, -which is of a very good yellow and white matting and is headed with -bamboo, and despite the favour into which friezes have grown of late -years, a favour they quite deserve I must say, I still cling to the dado -in the dining-and drawing-rooms; in the former they give solidity to the -wall, which they always keep tidy; in the latter they serve admirably as -places on which to hang our favourite nicknacks and those small sketches -and pictures which we prize, and which would almost be lost to sight -were we to hang them above the height of the dado-rail, where we could -not have them near us; so I strongly advise a dado whenever we can have -one in the drawing-room, and I have been lately confirmed in my opinion -by seeing two newly decorated rooms where the dado was useless as far as -regarded the hanging of pet possessions, but it was so decorative that I -am forced to pause here for a moment and give a description of them -both. - -In room No. 1 the wall-paper was my favourite yellow and white from Mr. -Smee; all the paint was a deep ivory, and the dado-rail was ivory too; -for about a yard below the rail the wall was coloured primrose, and over -this was hung a full soft curtain of yellow silk closely plaited on tiny -rings, which again were hung on nails below the rail, which curved out -over them and hid them completely; this curtain could be taken down and -shaken and replaced every week if desired, while, of course, during -absence from town the silk would be folded up and put away. The loose -curtain looks charming round the room, which is a very tiny one, and has -been admirably arranged by Mr. Smee with a fitted seat at one side of -the wall, with side curtains to give an idea of privacy, and above that -is a long bookcase; the curtains are of the beautiful larkspur cretonne -which has yellow and blue in it; the carpet is a deep red, to give more -colour, as the room is to be used for day, and therefore requires to be -made to look warmer than could be done were only blue and yellow used; -and the furniture is all ivory, and upholstered in different brocades; -albeit these are also covered with loose cretonne covers in the larkspur -cretonne, which is 2_s._ 10_d._ a yard, but really deserves to cost as -much, it is so pretty, although I do own it is rather expensive for a -mere cretonne. - -The other room in which I saw the curtain dado was much more sombre in -design and colouring; and I do not for one moment recommend such a -distressingly dark arrangement, although I do most heartily commend the -clever designer of this original room. The dado was not the straight -curtain which goes all round the room, which I have been writing about, -but it started from the window at one end five feet above the floor; -this continued for halfway along the wall, where it suddenly lowered to -within three feet of the floor, leaving a piece of wall about three feet -across and two deep; after running along for three feet at this lowered -angle, it rose again and continued along the wall to the door. Just on -the other side of the door the curtain began at three feet from the -wainscoting, and continued for about five feet, when it rose once more, -and continued at the first altitude for the rest of the wall, which -ended in a corner; the curtain lowered from that to the fireplace, -which, with its overmantel, filled one square, the dado beginning once -more at the five-foot altitude after the fireplace was passed. The -curtain was moss-green serge, and was hung from a pole painted -moss-green, with brass rings, which were _en évidence_; and above the -curtain the wall was covered with a very good Japanese leather paper; -the squares made by the dropping of the curtain being filled in one -place by a choice picture, in another by an admirably designed bracket -for books and china, and in another by a square beaten brass shield -holding an elaborate and beautiful clustered candelabra; and had the -drapery been of some bright colour, or some really decorative brocade, -the house would have been as charming as it was original, but, arranged -with the dark Japanese paper and the much darker drapery, the whole -effect was so depressing, that I felt, were I obliged to remain in that -house, I should have committed suicide, for my spirits would never have -borne up under it. But it was a dark day, as the owner pointed out, when -I told him, at his request, what I thought of it all. But I maintain -that as most of our English days, and more especially our London days, -are extremely dark, we are bound to try and make our rooms so beautiful -that they, at least, shall not in any way add to the depression that is -inseparable from sage-green walls and darkness generally. We cannot have -too much cheerfulness I maintain; it is absolutely impossible to be too -happy and too lively; and as our climate does not help us to be either -the one or the other, we must endeavour to simulate as much sunshine as -we can, by making our rooms cheerful and as sunny-looking as we have the -power to do. I never go into my own rooms, or the many rooms I have -helped to decorate, without feeling that, whatever else may be their -faults, they certainly cannot be called gloomy. They are all bright and -cheerful; and I defy anyone to be miserable long, unless, of course, -some real misfortune has occurred, in one of my rooms in the green serge -abode. A misfitting dress would be as dreadful a sorrow as a broken arm, -a disappointment about an entertainment as serious as an illness or loss -of money! Flowers again should never be forgotten, or allowed to become -dead and shabby; and, above all, each room we occupy should be -scrupulously clean, and without being aggressively neat should be -absolutely tidy. Directly a thing becomes dirty or untidy it should be -cleaned or replaced by something else. We should never overlook the -soiling of the paint, a crushed antimacassar, a dirty ceiling, and, -above all, we should remember that no amount of artistic knowledge and -careful decoration can make up for grimy tablecloths and crooked vases, -heaped-up papers and crushed chairbacks and damaged cretonnes. A room -must not only be made nice, it must be kept so; and if we cannot afford -good servants, who will respect our belongings, we must do the finer -parts of the housework ourselves. It is no disgrace to wash fine china, -and turn and fold our tablecloths and draperies; it is disgraceful to -have dirty ornaments, and to be untidy and careless about our rooms. - -Indeed, if any of us really want our rooms to look nice we should, no -matter how good are our servants, go carefully over them ourselves the -moment the housemaid’s work is done, and see that all is as we like it. -Servants do not place furniture, they _ram_ it into its place. The -tablecloths are usually put on wrong side out, and, somehow or other, -all seems to require the lady’s touch, which cannot be explained, but is -certainly observable in any house where the mistress is untidy, and so -naturally excuses untidiness in those around her. - -I maintain that tidiness is quite a gift, and that she who is possessed -of that admirable quality makes things go twice as far as does she who -never attempts to put a thing straight, who overlooks dust and dirt, -and without knowing precisely how it is managed, gets her house into -endless muddle and never allows it to look nice, albeit she spends three -times as much over it as does she who is gifted with tidiness and a -‘straight eye.’ Therefore, if a house is to be properly kept, the moment -a handle comes off a door, replace it; the instant a thing looks in the -least degree dirty, have it washed or cleaned; let any carpet be mended -before it goes into a hole; have black cleaned off any ceiling the -moment it comes on it; and, above all, have the china clean and -straight, and never overlook a rent or a dirty mark. If a house is kept -nice the expenses are gradual; if all is neglected, the day of -reckoning, which must come inevitably, will be such a heavy one that it -will cost more than can be afforded by anyone who is not a millionaire; -and it must come, for even if the house is our own, we must leave it -some time, and our successor will not revere our memory, or remember us -even with kindness, when he comes after us and repairs our ravages, -which need have been unimportant had we punctually spent the yearly sum -for repairs, &c., which should always be set aside by every careful -householder. - -Every room in every house should be re-painted and papered at least -every seventh year. Outside painting should be done every third year. -The ceilings should be cleansed the moment they begin to look dirty; and -we should never possess curtains or carpets which we cannot afford to -replace somehow, or that will not readily wash and darn, and shake when -they begin to show signs of having been used. - -A pretty house in good order will always let, should we desire to move; -while a house in bad repair, and dirty, will never find a tenant, even -if the landlord is a model one, and is willing to do all he can in the -matter of new decorations, for somehow the squalor and grime that greet -the eye first on entering never seem forgotten, and the house is passed -over again and again, because it is impossible to believe a house in -such a state can ever be made either healthy or beautiful. - -Before passing away from the three ordinary sitting-rooms in a house I -should like just to speak of some of the new styles of decoration which -have come to the fore lately, and which, I am glad to say, are all as -cheerful as can be; not that the arrangements I have advocated have been -relegated to that mysterious limbo dedicated to the fashions of last -week. I have at last, I am delighted to be able to tell my readers, -persuaded one or two of the more enterprising tradesmen to recognise the -fact that a thing which was good and satisfactory last week is just as -good and satisfactory this, and all the schemes of decoration I gave -before are still to be had. But tastes change, and it is always well to -be prepared with some new ideas, for rooms are all different, and what -suits one room will not suit another. - -I still like the Japanese plain paper, red and gold leather dado, and -red paint better than anything else for a dining-room, just as I cling -to my blue morning-room; but as it would not do for us all to have this -same decoration, I often advise an admirable tapestry paper, sold by -Pither at 4_s._ 6_d._ a piece. This can either have ‘holly-green’ or -‘imperial red’ paint, and a dado of Japanese leather paper, carefully -chosen to harmonise with the paper, and which should have dull red and -green and gold in its design, in very dark and unobtrusive shades. The -ceiling paper should be pale yellow and white, the cornice cream. The -doors should be panelled with the Japanese paper, and the curtains -should either be of Colbourne’s Gobelin tapestry, at 6_s._ 11_d._ a -yard, wide width, or else of self-coloured velveteen or serge, the -colour of the paint (whichever is chosen), and the carpet should be an -Oriental one if possible, with a dark red matting surround, or else of -Wallace’s dark red ‘anemone,’ either in pile, Brussels, or -Kidderminster, according to the price one wishes to give. This style of -decoration would suit almost any furniture, though I should prefer the -chairs to be covered with the Gobelin tapestry, which wears admirably, -and which should always be used to re-cover old or shabby chairs, -instead of a cheap leather. This covering could be done at home by an -upholsteress if necessary; but I should advise the chairs being taken in -hand by someone who can re-make the stuffing, if the expense can be -afforded; if it cannot, the leather should be left as it is, all -unevennesses and excrescences should be made even by judicious use of -cotton-wool on the leather, then a tight cover of holland should be -first put on, finally the cover of Gobelin tapestry, which should not -be buttoned down, but should be stretched over and secured in its place -with a gimp. Each chair would cost about 4_s._ or 5_s._, certainly not -more. - -Where the old-furniture mania exists, an artistic dining-room can be -made by using all nut-brown paint, Essex & Co.’s ‘Kenesaw’ design, -stamped on real brown paper, a gold and brown leather dado, all yellow -serge or velveteen curtains, and a golden-brown square carpet; and great -care should be taken in both rooms to have the proper tablecloths, which -Burnett makes from a design I gave him, and which have been largely used -(and recommended by the several imitators of mine which have sprung up -in divers papers since I first began my own notion of giving advice on -the matter of house decoration and arrangement through the columns of a -newspaper, now some six long years ago), and which are far better and -more artistic than any others I have ever seen. The cloth is plain serge -or felt, with a contrasting border united to the cloth itself by a gimp -in which both colours are mingled, and finished off with a ball fringe. -These cloths cost about 25_s._ for an ordinary table, and, as they will -clean and dye, would last some years if properly looked after. - -I have already spoken about the morning-room decoration, and therefore I -will only add a few words on the subject of the drawing-room, where the -yellow-and-white scheme I so often recommend cannot be improved upon by -those who can afford a reasonably expensive scheme of decoration. Of -course the very greatest care must be taken to avoid anything like the -gold-and-white paper of our ancestors, but this usually was accompanied -by grained maple paint, which gave the last touch of horror to the -scene, and therefore could never resemble the delicate ivory paint which -Aspinall has made so easy for us; and I still admire Mr. Smee’s -beautiful yellow-and-white paper at 11_s._ a piece better than anything -else, and with this I advise a dado of Collinson & Lock’s ‘47’ cretonne. -This should be secured with a screwed-on dado-rail, as then the cretonne -could be removed to be washed; all the chairs should be put into frilled -cretonne covers of the same cretonne, made like those in Fig. 13; the -curtains should be of Pither’s printed linen at 1_s._ a yard, edged with -ball - -[Illustration: FIG. 14.--Frilled Chairs and Sofa.] - -fringe at 6_d._ a yard, and the carpet should be dark blue pile, with a -pattern that resembles tiny daisies powdered all over the surface in a -paler shade of blue. - -Great exception has been taken to Pither’s printed linen because it -fades. So it does; but then it is very cheap, it lasts two years in a -sunny window, four in one that is not sunny, and, finally, dyes -beautifully, fringe and all, coming back from the immortal Pullar as -good as on the day it was first bought. I don’t think one can complain -very much about a material which behaves like that, can one? But, of -course, the printed linen as curtains can be replaced by silk, damask, -or by ‘47’ cretonne itself, should the first-named material be objected -to. - -No colour lights up so well as yellow--I am quite sure of that; and -another decoration could be made from the yellow ‘Othmar’ paper sold by -Essex, all cream paint, and a frieze of chrysanthemums, either painted -by hand, or else of the excellent printed design sold by Haines at 3_s._ -6_d._ the yard. With this the carpet should be red, and the curtains -should either be of a brocade which introduces the shades in the -flowers, or else of a cretonne: all would depend on how much money there -was to spend; but whether cretonne or brocade is used, it must match the -frieze in some measure. Though great cornices and vast pier-glasses over -mantel-pieces are entirely out of date, and will never, I trust, return -into fashion, there are still some unfortunates who labour under these -possessions, and who dare not rid themselves of them, much as they would -like to do so, and who may be glad to learn how these horrors may in -some measure be mitigated. All cornices become less repulsive directly -they are Aspinalled ivory. I cannot tell why, but this seems to -metamorphose them at once, and makes them quite ornamental, while the -frame of the glass can be treated in the same manner, unless the frames -are quite flat, in which case they should be covered with brocade, in -the same manner in which the fashionable frames for photographs are now -managed. In any case, all the heavy flourishes and ‘ornaments’ should be -removed, and the glass made in every way as plain and unobtrusive as -possible. Draping with muslin, or even with Liberty silk, is never -successful, and only makes the object draped like one of the -lodging-house possessions, carefully guarded in a similar manner by the -careful landlady from the encroachments of the flies, and is therefore -much to be avoided. - -Never, no matter what the time of year, put it out of your power to have -a fire, should you so desire it. I still cling to the Japanese umbrella, -and have never found a substitute for it which is so absolutely -satisfactory. If its stick is properly cut it hides the wood and coal -and grate entirely, and gives a bright spot of colour, and can be -removed at once. A curtain hung straight down from a slight rod just -under the top of the grate itself looks very neat, as does a series of -rings to hold flower-pots, just brought out by Hamilton, of the Quentin -Matsys Forge, York Street, Westminster. This holds twelve pots of -flowers, and can be lifted out in a moment altogether should a fire be -required, and would always look well put down in a corner of the room. -One of the Guild brocade screens with miniatures answers well too, and -Giles has invented from my description a fireplace cabinet, which, put -under the wooden mantel-piece--which is _de rigueur_ in an artistic -house--continues the mantel and overmantel decorations, and makes the -whole appear like a good cabinet for books, china, and flowers. This can -also be removed in a few minutes, and either hung on the wall or placed -in a corner of the room. - -The perfect câche-feu has yet to be invented, but until some clever -genius has done this, either of the above ideas answers quite well; but -I do solemnly warn my readers against fashionable trellis-work with -paper ivy and grapes wandering over it, fans outstretched in plush with -senseless photographs let in--as if photographs could be in place on the -hearth!--and all the thousand and one freaks of fashion that are brought -out by those who ought to know better, and who have filled many houses -to overflowing with terrible plush frames, soiled satin bags, useless -odds and ends, and ghastly painted tables, brackets, and stands, which -are costly to begin with, and so we do not like to dispose of them too -hastily, and which should never be seen in the houses of those who -really want to have an artistic and pretty home; with which solemn -warning we will pass on to sterner subjects, and will consider in -another chapter how to treat the more ‘manly’ portion of the house, -where work or pleasure may be gone in for. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -THE BILLIARD-ROOM AND LIBRARY. - - -‘There must be nothing frivolous, light, or airy in the aspect of either -of these rooms; all must be sombre and steady, if not dark;’ and though -I do not go so far as this--the ordinary dictum of the upholsterer--I am -quite willing to allow that in the billiard-room at least lightness and -frivolity are out of place, albeit I cannot allow that even this room -need be sombre and dreary, while certainly it ought to light up well, as -it is a room which is generally used merely at night. - -Wherever it can be afforded, and wherever there are young men or lads in -the house, there should always be a billiard-table, and the girls should -be encouraged to play with their brothers and their brothers’ friends as -long as their mother or father can remain in the room as some sort of -guard and guide; the pleasanter home is made the less inclination will -young men have to go elsewhere for their amusements, and if they are -accustomed to be made happy and feel that their friends are welcome too, -they will not keep outside home for the pleasure that is to be found -without crossing the threshold. A billiard-room in winter, a couple of -good tennis-courts in summer, and the hours of leisure will pass -comfortably along, and leave neither time nor opportunities for less -desirable pleasures. - -Example is everything in a house: a thousand sermons will not speak as -loudly against betting, and gambling, and drink--the horrors of my -existence--as will the example of a house where such things are never -allowed, and yet where amusements of all kinds are not frowned upon and -refused, where games are encouraged for their own sakes, and where a -healthy outdoor life replaces the bar-frequenting, loafing hours, which -are all too often the portion of those who have been accustomed to -‘nipping’ and loafing, because they have seen these two habits allowed -as a matter of course from their earliest days. - -And before I speak of the mere walls and furniture of a billiard-room -let me impress upon my readers not to allow this room to be turned into -a base imitation of a tap-room. I am not a teetotaler, and have small -patience with those intolerant individuals whose language and statements -are all too often as bad and violent as they are absolutely unreliable -and untrue, and I do not believe in the possibility of living our -present eager and artificial existence without the aid of alcohol in -some shape or the other, certainly not after we have borne the heat and -stress of the day, and we require something stronger than water to -sustain us, but I do absolutely condemn the insane and insensate habit -in which so many indulge nowadays of continually drinking between meals. -Were stimulants taken at meals only, were spirits, with the exception of -brandy (which should be kept entirely as a most valuable medicine), -abolished, we should have no drunkards, and the teetotalers would lose -all excuse for their most unpleasant and untruthful existences; and as -we now seldom see a drunkard in our streets, and never contemplate the -pleasing scenes which after dinner, in our great-grandmothers’ times, -were visible in many dining-rooms, from which no gentleman ever issued -to join the ladies, because he was generally under the table or else -fast asleep with both arms on it, I am in great hopes that we are -learning to be a sober nation, though I hope sincerely never to see it -an absolutely teetotal one, for beer and wine are necessary, I am -convinced, in our climate, and we should be miserable indeed were we -debarred, as the fanatics would debar us, from the use of all fermented -or alcoholic drinks. - -But we must be moderate and we must not drink between meals, and we must -avoid the constant sodas-and-brandies which appear inseparable from some -billiard-rooms, and to which is due, no doubt, the pious horror many -good folks have of this chamber in a house; and I should like it to be -firmly understood that the room was for the game merely, and that -anything like ‘nipping’ would be at once and sternly discouraged. This -being satisfactorily settled, we may proceed to plan and decorate our -billiard-room with a clear conscience, secure in the fact that we are -simply providing a place for innocent amusement, that will be of -invaluable service at night and on wet Saturday afternoons, and that -will not prove a snare and stumbling-block to any, more especially if we -as sternly refuse to allow gambling as we refuse to allow imbibing at -odd moments of the day or night. - -I am always astonished that no crusade has been raised against the -national sin of gambling. Drink ruins the homes of poor men, but not -more certainly or rapidly than gambling ruins the homes of rich men, and -of men far from rich. Drink may kill a man, but it takes a great many -drunkards to imbibe an estate, while one night’s gambling may scatter -the savings of a lifetime and turn all the wretched children of a -selfish gambler into the streets to starve. I have been horrified -sometimes to see ladies and gentlemen hot, eager, excited, gambling in -private houses, the host actually bent on winning from those who are -enjoying his hospitality, the hostess almost insulting her guests in her -awful anxiety to gain the contents of their purses; and I am convinced -that the only way to escape this demon is to refuse to pander to it at -all, to never allow one single penny to be staked at cards in one’s own -house, and to make this such a rule that it would be impossible to break -it on any consideration whatever. I have seen pennies played for which -begat the taste for gambling for much larger sums; and I have never seen -a house where gambling was allowed truly prosper, or be anything save -the residence of those whose ideas and hopes were centred in this world -only, and never rose above the mere ‘society’ existence, than which -nothing can be more despicable and awful. - -This book is not a tract, and therefore I do not say one half I should -like to on this subject; but as I remember the ruined homes--one family -especially, where all are scattered and most are dead, where gambling -went on in the schoolroom and drawing-room alike, at every moment which -could be snatched for the purpose; the broken hearts, the miserably -wrecked careers, entirely due to this vice; when one can hardly take up -a paper without seeing the dreary fate of some wretched youth, whose -tendencies to betting and gaming have caused him to rob his master’s -till and landed him in penal servitude, I must say I cannot help feeling -astonished that the eager teetotalers do not try their hands at putting -down gaming, especially as they have the law on their side--the kind, -good, well-devised law which snaps up little boys who play -pitch-and-toss at the corners of the streets, that winks at -Tattersall’s and the big races, and finally is utterly powerless to -punish the high-class gamester, who spends his nights at gaming-hells -and ruins his home and his wretched constitution at the same time. - -However, lest I weary my readers in dwelling on this subject, about -which one cannot say too much, I think I will now simply speak of the -decoration of the billiard-room, having, I hope, so judiciously -sandwiched the powder between the jam in this chapter, that those who -seek for information about the room itself may unawares come upon it, -and so be forced to meditate, whether they like it or not, on some of -the reasons why so many people dread the idea of a billiard-room where -there are boys. If gambling were non-existent, the veriest Chadband -might learn to handle the cue; while a pastor at a dissenting chapel -need not dread the eyes of his deacons were he found disporting himself -in the halls of the ungodly, which would cease to be ungodly, or be no -more so than the harmless tennis-courts, were betting eliminated from -among their charms, and nothing but the game itself really and truly -encouraged and allowed. - -A big room is a necessity for a billiard-room, which should never, by -any chance, be shorter than twenty-six feet long by twenty broad; a -full-sized table measures twelve feet by six, and the size I have spoken -of only allows sufficient comfortable room for walking round the table, -and for the usual raised seats which are always put at the ends and on -one side of the room. Personally, I should prefer a much larger room -still, as I like to see one end of the room furnished as a species of -sitting-room; but, of course, in London the twenty-six by twenty room -would be ample. In the country, the billiard-table comes in for days -when shooting is impossible, and the sitting-room end there is a great -advantage in more ways than one. - -Quite a charming billiard-room can be made by using all brown paint and -a high dado, to the top of the door, of brown and gold Japanese leather -paper; above the dado the wall should be painted _café-au-lait_; the -cornice should be replaced by a coving, which should terminate in a -top-light, from whence the ordinary cross-lights could be hung for use -at night, and these surely could be in beaten iron with some prettier -shades than the hideous green things which match the equally hideous -cloth, which I hope to see replaced soon by something a little more -artistic, say in such a room as the one I have just described, by a dull -brown cloth, which surely would be every bit as satisfactory as the -green, which is certainly the most aggressive shade of green which has -ever been made. In this case the shades could be blue, with some lace -over them, or the yellow with no lace at all. - -Where the ceiling is coved, the coving should always be decorated either -with gold leather paper or by an artist’s brush; and I have seen most -elaborately drawn pictures of the old wooden ships of Henry VIII.’s time -in a similar coving, in sepia on a cream ground, which looked perfectly -beautiful, and which I should recommend in a similar room, where stags’ -heads and other trophies of the chase should be arranged on the painted -wall, which should be too high for pictures, which could not be hung on -the dado either, for fear of their being damaged by the ends of the -cues. I should advise the use of printed yellow linen for curtains, -edged, of course, with ball fringe, were there any windows in the room -beside the top-light, which should have a gathered soft yellow blind -arranged to draw over it in very hot weather; while the table itself, -when not in use, should be covered with a large square of yellow serge -lined with American cloth, with a big monogram embroidered on one -corner; this would preserve the table, and look much better than the -ordinary cloth. - -The floor should be parqueterie with strips of velvet pile carpet in -golden brown on the four sides; these should be mitred at the corners, -and no other carpet would be required, save, of course, a square if we -had the drawing-room end to the room I advocated before; if not, the -room should be kept for billiards only, when the strips round the table -would be quite sufficient; the leather seats should be covered in brown -leather, and the fire should be protected by one of the admirable guards -sold by Benham & Co., and which have padded tops, on which people can -sit and watch the game, and get comfortably warm at the same time. - -I have seen a most ingenious arrangement of small cupboards in the -overmantel of a billiard-room, which was pronounced invaluable for the -safe storing away of cigars and tobacco, which should be mentioned, as -of course smoking will be principally carried on in this room. The -mantel-piece was walnut, and the fireplace the orthodox open grate and -tiled hearth and back; the overmantel was carved to match the mantel, -and was quite flat to the wall, which had been scooped out in some -manner behind it, to allow of the formation of sundry square cupboards -in the wall itself; these each held a cedar-wood box of cigars, with the -front end off; and the cigars were so arranged that they could be taken -out one by one, when the square wooden block in the overmantel, which -formed the entrance to the cupboard, was unlocked, and fell forward on a -hinge. No one could have suspected the overmantel of being a cupboard, -and yet it was one; while at the same time this particular spot was -especially pleasing, I believe, to the constitution of a cigar, which -appears to require a certain amount of warmth, until it disappears -finally into smoke, leaving its terrible odour behind it. On the -mantel-piece itself were dull blue vases holding spills; several -ingenious and expensive match-boxes, on which all matches appeared to me -to refuse to ignite, and the usual _débris_ one always finds in similar -localities, filthy-looking pipes, old date stands, and stands for -holding the hunt appointments, and similar expensive and broken toys, -being there in vast abundance. Another excellent manner of decorating a -billiard-room, where the owner had pictures to dispose of, and did not -want a very elaborate or costly decoration, would be formed by papering -the room entirely with real brown paper, and painting the room the same -soft brown; a frieze should be added, if possible, of one of the -Japanese hand-painted friezes one can buy occasionally at any -decorator’s, representing a flight of wild ducks, or else of storks, -among reeds and flowers; but if this cannot be either found or afforded, -a plain gold and brown Japanese leather frieze would look well. This -should not be less than fourteen inches wide; anything less is -distinctly ugly; while it might come almost to the top of the door, -which should be surmounted by one of Wallace’s simple over-doors to hold -china, which should be blue and white. The curtains in this room should -be Liberty’s very dark blue and white reversible cretonnes; the chairs -could be either dark blue leather or saddle-bags with dark blue velvet -surrounds; and the carpet should be dark blue pile. This would look -well, and be an entirely pleasant scheme of decoration; a hand-painted -frieze on brown paper would also be capital if expense were no object. - -Yet another and a bolder decoration could be made by using Essex golden -‘Othmar’ paper, with Mandarin paint, and a wide frieze of the dull green -‘Othmar,’ dull green carpets, and Graham & Biddle’s beautiful yellow -poppy cretonne, edged with dull green ball fringe, and lined dull green; -the carpet should be the dull green ‘Stella’ pile carpet from Wallace’s, -and all the chairs should be dull green leather. - -If by chance there can be afforded or managed a drawing-room end to the -billiard-room, a couple of screens will be found most invaluable; and if -these screens have a long spike in each fold, to receive which a -corresponding hole is bored in the floor, a great objection to screens -will be done away with. Furnished with these spikes, which should be -able to be unscrewed and removed quite easily, they could not possibly -be knocked over; and, in my opinion, the tall standard lamps, which are -so much in request just at present, should be furnished with similar -spikes, as they always appear to me dreadfully dangerous, especially -where there are children, or even dogs, or careless servants; for -though, of course, the danger of fire is entirely done away with if we -use Defries’s excellent patent for putting out the light as the lamp -falls, the oil must be spilt and damage the carpet, while an unpleasant -smash and fright are absolutely certain. We should be saved anything of -the kind were my simple spike arrangement adopted by all those who use -these lamps. - -The drawing-room end of the billiard-room should have a bow window with -a seat round, several cosy arm-chairs, a table capable of holding the -week’s supply of newspapers and the month’s supply of magazines, each in -its own proper corner, and a couple of serviceable paper-knives should -be always forthcoming. There should be a nice little writing-table for -the use of any who wish to scribble notes; and, above all, there should -be either a long bookcase on the wall full of frivolous literature, or -else one of Trübner’s excellent bookcases, which revolve and so allow -one to reach any book in the case without rising from one’s comfortable -seat. - -A venerable piano which has seen better days is no mean addition to the -comfort and pleasure of the billiard-room, and many an hilarious and -impromptu entertainment has chased away the melancholy caused by a wet -afternoon in the dismal winter country, due entirely to the happy -presence among the company of a piano which was quite good enough to be -used to accompany comic songs on, and amply good enough to form the -basis for a recitation after--a long way after--Corney Grain or the -immortal John Parry. - -But though a big room is much better than a small one for billiards, -people should not be deterred from having a table in their houses -because their space does not allow of a full-sized one. The very nicest -billiard-room I was ever in, and which, alas! is now no more, was that -formed by using the square hall of a country vicarage; that table -existed before the present age of artistic decorations, but whenever I -remember it and the dear old house in which it stood I forget all art, -and only remember the extreme fascination that place had for me, and can -scent again the mingled odours of the vicar’s pipes and Maréchal Niel -roses, which are inseparable from my remembrance of the place. The table -stood squarely in the front hall, which was covered with brown linoleum, -and was seldom unmarked by dogs’ feet for more than five minutes after -it had been freshly washed, and we used to perch about on the tops of -oak chests, the fender, anywhere, while the game progressed, as there -was no room for seats. In addition to the hall table, the hat-stand, -decorated with all sorts and conditions of hats, male and female, and -the oak chests, one of which held the rugs and whips, the other the -parish registers from some very bygone date, the walls themselves were -decorated with stuffed birds and animals in glass cases, sundry collars -and chains belonging to the dear dogs, driving-whips suspended in some -cunning manner to keep them in shape, a barometer which survived the -most fearful amount of banging and shaking that ever barometer was -subjected to, and finally by the post-bag, which hung from a nail until -it was fetched by a small village girl who rejoiced in the remarkable -name of ‘Rhody Jemimy,’ who had to take and fetch the bag morning and -evening from the ‘World’s End,’ the mail-cart bringing it and taking it -from and to that mysterious location, for we were far too primitive in -those parts to have a postman, and had our one post a day contentedly -enough, though I believe the present denizen of the vicarage has -clamoured until he has not only a postman but a second post; albeit, -neither were ever required by us, who were perfectly happy in those -blessed days without them. I dwell upon this room rather at length in -order to encourage anyone who may hanker after a billiard-room, and not -dare to think of it seriously because the necessary twenty feet by -twenty space is not forthcoming, and, moreover, because they dread the -expense as much as the want of room. Of course a new full-sized table is -a very expensive thing, and fittings and all could not cost less than -150_l._; but as soon as we have made up our minds that we can really -have a billiard-table we must begin to look out for the sales, for very -often there are compulsory sales about, where a very good billiard-table -can be purchased for a quarter the price of a new one. I have known one -sold for 25_l._, as the owner had forgotten to renew his lease and was -given summary notice of dismissal, while a friend of mine bought a -beauty for 40_l._ which simply required a little polish about the legs -to be quite as good as new; but should money be of no real object, it -would be better to go to some really first-class maker and have the -table properly set up and made, for I believe there is great art in the -proper placing of the table, and this should only be undertaken by -someone who thoroughly understands the business; still, in a small room, -and with a small and second-hand table, there may be found vast -enjoyment if the bigger and more elaborate arrangement cannot possibly -be managed. - -I am always amused at some people’s determination not to be either -happy, or _complete_ in their household arrangements, because they -cannot have the best of everything that is to be had, though I must -confess such conduct makes me just a little cross as well. I have known -folks utterly refuse to contemplate the joys of a jolly little pony and -chaise because they didn’t care to set up a carriage unless they could -do so properly; ‘properly’ in their case meaning the orthodox coachman, -footman, horses, and a couple of carriages; whereas they condemned -themselves to their own immediate neighbourhood and to tramping about -the lanes, or to staying at home, because they could not understand that -as much pleasure could be got out of the ‘shay’ as out of anything still -more gorgeous. I have known folks decline with scorn to cover their -ugly, depressing, bare walls with pictures, because they could not buy -Millais and Herkomers; whereas their lives and their houses would have -been brightened at once had they spent 20_l._ on autotypes. And I have -as constantly been acquainted with dozens of folks who would not do -this, that, or the other, because they must take a back seat so to -speak, and who in consequence waste half their opportunities. I except -society, by the way; if the best society is not forthcoming (and by the -best society I mean the society of people who are clever and who have -done, or long to do something to make the world brighter and happier -than they found it), don’t have any. The contact with mean, small, and -ignorant minds does one harm, not good; the constant rubbing against -time-serving shoulders and the shoulders of those who would do any -amount of grovelling to be received by what they consider the society of -the neighbourhood, only smirches us, and we had better sit at home all -our lives with our books alone than expose ourselves to the -deterioration we receive from association with such folk. But, apart -from society, I would rather have the second or third best of everything -if I can’t have the first, for the more one gets out of life the better, -and the more one sees of the world and of the nice people in it the -wider do our minds become, and the more appreciation and enjoyment do we -have from our lives. - -With the plea for a secondhand billiard-table rather than none, I will -turn away from the room with one last suggestion--viz. to have good -thick curtains hung over any doors that there may be in the room, -outside; this will keep the smell of the smoke within proper bounds, and -will also keep out the sound of the click-click of the balls, than which -nothing is more annoying--to me at any rate. These curtains could be -made of Adams serge lined with Bolton sheeting; both these materials -will wash and are to be had from Burnett’s, and should be very wide and -full, and should hang well over the hinges and cracks of the door; these -should further be surrounded by ‘Slater’s patent’ for excluding -draughts, as naturally the room will be properly ventilated, and there -would be no need to think of that, all our care being centred on keeping -in the room all scent of the smoke and all sound of the balls. If the -room is separate from the house, and only connected with it by a long -passage, we may consider, I think, that nothing more is to be expected, -and that here is indeed the perfect billiard-room. This room should be -in the care of the head housemaid, whose first duty should be to open -all the available windows every morning, no matter what the weather is -like, to see all the cigar-ash is swept up, and finally to slip the -curtains off the poles (a matter of three minutes exactly), to have them -well shaken out of doors and left there for half an hour, having them -replaced the moment the room is cleaned and set straight. Treated like -this the billiard-room would always be fresh and nice, and would have no -more smell of smoke about it than would be pleasantly suggestive to -anyone who is not such a bitter enemy to smoke as I am. - -And now about the library, the arrangement of which must depend entirely -on the individual tastes and pursuits of the master of the house, whose -room this is more especially; for in all big houses the mistress has her -morning-room, and the guests generally are provided with writing-tables -in their rooms, and would only venture into the library when the door -was open, or by the rule of the house was made free to them during -certain hours. Naturally, if the master were in no measure a literary -man, if he had no Parliamentary work, or work that required him to -isolate himself from the rest of the household at certain hours, the -room would always be free; but it should be kept for writing and reading -only, it should never be turned into a play-room of any kind; therefore -there should be a certain sobriety about it, and it should not be -furnished too frivolously or in such a manner as to suggest flirtation -instead of study, sweet sleep instead of proper, severe application to -one’s books. - -Perhaps the very prettiest library I have ever seen is one in London, -which may sound frivolous, but is nothing of the kind, and has some of -the most serious work of the nation done between its four walls; it is -enamelled white--doors, cupboards, bookshelves, overmantel, indeed -everything, and has a most beautiful effect, especially against the -dun-coloured, gold-tinted calf volumes, with which the shelves are most -amply supplied; the shelves are supported on cupboards with brass locks -and hinges, and are wide and deep enough to hold quantities of law -papers; all these shelves and cupboards are ‘fitments’ passing -completely round the room, and continuing under the windows. The only -scraps of wall which show are papered with a very good Japanese leather -paper, and the space above the mantel-piece is filled in with an old -portrait; sundry pieces of blue china are on the mantel-piece, which are -never without their fresh flowers; the carpet is a very fine Oriental -one, with a great deal of white in it; the furniture is blue, as are the -curtains, which are arranged across the top of each window and down one -side only, while the enormous desk which occupies the centre of the room -is a most exquisitely inlaid piece of marqueterie, and is the only -coloured thing in the room, the frames of the chairs, &c., being -enamelled like the room itself. Now this white idea for a library in -London--dirty, smoky London--does seem absurd and a trifle frivolous, -but the effect thereof is perfect, and as the application of a damp -clean duster and a polish from a leather makes the room absolutely -spotless, I see no reason why the white library should be scoffed at as -an impossibility. A big beaten iron and copper lamp from Strode hangs in -the centre of the room, and gives the finishing touch to a very perfect -apartment. - -Here the room is used for important work which requires absolute peace -and absolute solitude, where the books refer to the special subject of -study, and would be of no interest whatever to the ordinary man. Still, -a modified edition of the white room could easily be carried out, and -would be far more cheerful to live with, than the orthodox dark green -and carved oak, or a base imitation thereof that we find in far too many -houses; oak, in my opinion, being utterly unsuited to a modern house, -and should only be used in a big old house where one looks for it as a -matter of course. Of the modern imitation called Flemish oak I have no -words of condemnation sufficiently strong; it is abominable, ugly, -heavy, and badly executed, and should never be tolerated in any house -where artistic decoration is encouraged and sought after. - -If, as I said before, the master of the house does not require so much -space for papers or books as to authorise him to cover in the entire -wall-space at his command with fitments, I advise him to run his -bookcases simply round the room to a height of an ordinary dado. Above -this could be hung the ever-useful Japanese paper, or a real -red-and-white paper, such as is Pither’s ‘buttercup.’ On the wall could -be hung pictures, or a large cupboard well designed (and I should -suggest Mr. Arthur Smee as the proper person to send to for this) should -break the space of wall in the centre. The doors could be of cathedral -glass in leaded squares, with broad brass hinges and locks; while the -same design, of course on a much smaller scale, could be introduced over -the mantel-piece. The desk could be enamelled white, and the top covered -with Japanese leather paper. Of course the handles on the drawers must -be brass; the blotting-book could be of red leather, with a plain -monogram stamped on, or else the name of the room and of the house; and -the head housemaid should be very particular about the state of the -inkstand and of the blotting-book, though she should be forbidden, of -course, to touch any of the papers on the desk, for fear she might lose -important manuscripts. The mistress of the house should dust these -herself if the master is touchy, or objects to other hands meddling with -his belongings. - -The curtains in a library should be thick and warm, and should, in the -red-and-cream room, be in cream Roman satin, embroidered with red -flowers if possible, or else of deep red Roman satin or Bokhara plush. -The furniture sold by Hampton, covered in what they call ‘Khelims,’ but -which is quite unlike the ordinary striped material I have always -purchased as such, and is much more Oriental-looking, would do admirably -in this room, where there should certainly be a couple of good sofas and -four or five armchairs, and a small writing-table and chair beside the -bigger one; while great care should be taken with the lighting, it being -most important that a good light should fall on the book or -writing-table, which should throw no fidgety shadows. When the electric -light becomes general this advice will not be necessary, but until it is -great care must be taken, before the lights are absolutely fixtures, to -ascertain that they are in the right place, or else the unfortunate -would-be readers and writers will be continually annoyed. The large -standard lamps are useful in a library, as they can be moved at any -moment, and further care should be taken in the choice of a carpet, -which should be thick and soft, and should cover almost all the floor, -thus saving the student any chance of being fidgeted by the sudden -scroop of a chair pushed hastily back or by the noise of a falling book -or of a sudden footstep. - -In a small house a library would be impossible, and therefore I give no -directions for a cheaper style of decoration, which, however, could be -managed in judiciously chosen shades of green and white, and I will only -now speak about the books and the manner of treating such a room. - -No child or very young person, and no servant, no matter whom, should -ever be allowed to read the library books, which should never under any -pretext whatever be removed from the library, and should consist of -histories, travels, poetry, and all standard works that have survived -the fiery trial of a twenty years’ existence; the lighter works of -to-day, which one reads when one is tired or wants simply to be amused, -should be found in the billiard and morning rooms, and in every spare -room in the house (Mudie’s books being also in these rooms), and on no -account whatever should a really good book which forms part of a set, or -is valuable, be lent; listen to no entreaties, place the book _in the -room_ at the disposal of anyone who cares to read it, but lend it and -you may and will run the risk of losing your book, or of having to -torment for it, until your friend hates you, although in strict justice -he ought to hate himself for the trouble he has given you. In every -library and, indeed, in every house, there should be a list of the books -in each room, and whenever a book is added the name thereof should be -written down. I speak feelingly, if a little bitterly, on the subject, -for no one has lent more books than I have, and no one has been more -ruthlessly robbed; for people who would be absolutely incapable of -depriving one of a pin, lose and forget to return my books, and at last -I have come to the conclusion that I will never lend another; books are -cheap enough, goodness knows, and libraries swarm; let people borrow -there, and close your heart to the would-be borrower if you want to keep -your books, and not scatter them generously about the world at large. - -Again, I should never forbid anyone to read any book whatever--a -prohibition makes people anxious at once; but the fact that the library -books must be kept in the library would deter the children from reading -what they ought not, and we would forbid certain literature because of -its binding, not because of the contents; this I have found act much -better than the wholesale orders we were given on the subject, in -consequence of which I had read all Defoe’s, Richardson’s, Fielding’s, -and other works I should never have seen before I was sixteen, and -wondered why on earth they were forbidden me. I should never have read -one of them had I not wanted to see why I must not; they did me no harm, -because I could not understand them; they might have done infinite harm -to any other girl who was less babyish for her age than I happened in -some mysterious manner to be, and therefore it is a good thing to keep -such books where children do not come and where they are forbidden to -touch books which are too well bound to be risked in their -all-too-generally grimy little paws. - -As in all the other rooms in the house, cheerfulness should be first -thought of: a gloomy library, a library where the windows are obscured, -is a mistake; cheerfulness is the first thing to be seriously cultivated -by us all, in all relations of life, for it is indeed true, as the poet -says-- - - A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires in a mile-a; - -therefore, in choosing and furnishing the library, remember this axiom, -and let sunshine and brightness and cheerfulness be found there, as in -every other room and place in the house; for we are insensibly and -immensely influenced by our surroundings, and we should always make the -best of our lives and belongings in every way we possibly can. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -SHALL WE DO AWAY WITH THE NURSERY? - - -It is a hard moment in the life of any woman when she has to make up her -mind that she cannot any longer consistently retain one of the best -rooms in the house for the nursery, more especially if she has been able -to realise her ambition, and to give to her children an ideal chamber, -where beauty and suitable arrangements for their comfort have been duly -studied. - -I know nothing sadder than an empty nursery. The children, who were as -much our own as anything on this earth can ever be, have ceased to be -children. They are still ours, but they are independent creatures; our -care is no longer absolutely necessary to them. Some may even have -married, and others may be trying their wings by some short flights from -the home that will always be theirs, even if they do not care to return -to it. But, in any case, they are no longer the dear little mites whose -tiny ailments kept us awake at night, whose clothes and education were -our unceasing care, and who found their heaven in our presence, -believing honestly and thankfully that all they had came from us, and -that we were without a flaw, as omnipotent as we were faultless. - -The most melancholy part of middle age is this being left behind by our -children, the eagerness on their parts to live their own lives and begin -their own career. But it should not be sad, as it is only what happened -to our parents, after all, and will happen again in the future -generation. But all the same, it must be a hardened heart indeed that -can contemplate an empty nursery and have no other thoughts than how -best to decorate or use the room for a totally different purpose. There -is a peculiar _serrement de cœur_, which, once experienced, can never -be forgotten, when we enter a room made sacred to us by a thousand -dreams and romances--a thousand dreads and fears we have never spoken of -to any soul on earth, and have to consider how best we can alter it to -another purpose. - -I remember, years ago, going to see a house in which we had had many, -many happy hours, and which had just passed from those we knew and loved -to persons in an inferior station of life, with whom we should never -have any dealings, and I have never forgotten the feeling of desolation -that seized me when I looked up at the erstwhile nursery window, from -which the bars were hanging broken, and remembered the faces that used -never to be absent from that place--a feeling that was intensified a -thousand times when I climbed up to the room itself, and looked for the -last time on the walls, papered by ourselves with pictures from the -‘Illustrated News’ (I can remember them all vividly, from the marriage -of the Princess Royal in one corner to pictures of the American War in -the other), and recollected the boys who were all out in the world, each -busy with his own life, with whom I had played, ridden, eaten far too -much fruit in the sunny garden below the nursery windows (where I verily -believe it was always fine and hot), and with whom I had risen at dawn -in many a misty September morning, bent on collecting a great dish of -mushrooms for breakfast, to surprise the house-mother with--a surprise -that she must have been well accustomed to, but which she never failed -to express; she knew we should have been so disappointed had she seemed -in the least degree to expect the never-failing dish, though she had a -hard struggle to be duly elated and not say one word about the draggled -skirts and wringing wet stockings and boots, which she knew were -reposing upstairs and would be shown to her in due course and with much -wrath by Susan, to whose lot it always fell to remedy our dilapidations, -which she used to say were always worse when I was there to rush about -with the boys and lead them into mischief and dirt of all kinds. - -There can be nothing more extinct on this earth than that dear old -nursery, closed nearly twenty years ago and utterly swept away, but I -can never think of it without becoming young again--without being the -eldest of that small flock and worshipped as only five small boys can -worship a London cousin much older than themselves, who yet could enter -into all their games and excursions with the zest of a girl who has -never tried living in the country, and sees only the poetical side of -it; and without remembering the happiest of happy homes, where I cannot -recollect a cross word, a disagreeable day, or anything but the noise -of the boys rushing about, the scent of a thousand flowers, the planning -of a hundred picnics, and a delightful sense of summer and sunshine that -can never be forgotten, and that has influenced more lives than -mine--more even than the generous, hospitable master and mistress will -ever know--though perhaps he does in the rest he won so worthily and in -the Heaven that must hold anyone who was as generous and good as he was -to the many, many relations with whom he filled his house, and to whom -he always gave a hearty welcome. - -But no doubt there are a great many other nurseries just like this -one--and, indeed, I know of several--so I would beg my readers to bear -with me while I speak of these rooms, and beg them not to make a clean -sweep of the nursery altogether until they are positively obliged to do -so, not because there may be other babies to come, but because the -nursery is useful for a thousand things, and it makes such a dreadful -difference in a house when the room is completely altered and turned -into a room for the maid who takes the place of the nurse, perhaps, or -into a sitting-room for the girls or boys. Don’t let this be done, dear -readers, until you are absolutely crowded out, because you will be -miserable, and because you can never tell that the room may not be -wanted as a sanitorium; an upstairs sitting-room, a refuge for our -grandchildren, should we have married children, and should they be -coming to stay with us, and bring their babies in due course of time; -while the room having been decorated and furnished as a nursery is that -and nothing else, and would have to be completely altered, should we -settle to do away with it altogether. - -Now, I want you to look just for a moment at the picture I have had -drawn here of an empty nursery and see how admirably it is adapted for -the purpose, and how cruel it would be to sweep away all these corners -and shelves. You will notice how the cupboard fills in the recess -between the fire and the wall, and you will see how a doll’s-house -should be arranged, and then, I am sure, you will think twice about -weeding out all this, and doing away with things that may give pleasure -to future generations, particularly when we must all number among our -acquaintances people with children, who come to tea, and will enjoy -their tea twice as much if the children can be relegated to old nurse -and the room where all is prepared for the small guests, who will for -the moment take the place of those who are still children to us, albeit -they are as old as we were when we began housekeeping ourselves, and set -up a nursery with the pride and consequence inseparable from that most -important step; while we can look hopefully forward to other small -visitors who will be delighted to play with ‘mother’s old toys,’ and to -hear things about that mother’s childhood, which can only be told them -by an authority on the subject. - -The nursery I have had sketched here is, of course, a much more -expensive and elaborate room than could be suggested to folks with small -incomes, but will serve as an example, I hope even in little houses, -although, as those were amply catered for in my first book, I do not -feel so bound to consider them as I did then. I should always have a -real dado in any nursery. The one used here is of Indian matting, which -is as neat and clean after ten years’ use as it was the day it was put -up. By the way, a dado should be secured at the top with rather a -heavier rail than the one illustrated, and this should be screwed on, -not nailed. The screws can be removed at any moment, and the dado taken -down. In the case of a cretonne dado this could be washed at any moment, -while stuff or matting could be brushed or shaken; but I have taken down -matting after ten years on a wall, which was sized before the matting -was put up, and have never found the smallest dirt behind it, while the -wall remained absolutely intact for that space of time, and, indeed, is -as good as new now, after fifteen years’ wear, at least, I hear it is; -unfortunately we have moved twice since then, and I cannot possibly -inspect the matting to verify this statement for myself as I should like -to do; but ten years is a long time, and, in these roving days of ours, -when all too rarely do houses descend from father to son, is quite space -enough for most of us. - -Above the matting--which should be the kind sold by Treloar, in Ludgate -Circus, for 35_s._ the roll of 40 yards--can be put any pretty blue -paper. Pither’s new blue bay-tree paper, at 1_s._ 6_d._, is charming, -and is of a colour that - -[Illustration: FIG. 15.--An Empty Nursery.] - -we never tire of. The paint could be the same shade of blue; the tiny -cornice should be coloured cream, and the ceiling paper should be -Maple’s cheap yellow and white one, at 4½_d._ a piece. This could be -cleaned twice a year with stale bread, and, as it is so cheap, could be -replaced the moment it showed signs of becoming in the least degree -shabby. The best toys could be arranged round the room on the shelf, -which could be painted blue, and further appropriate decorations could -be made by tennis rackets and skipping ropes if desired, albeit I should -prefer a picture there of some kind or other, or else a lamp hanging out -over the fireplace, beyond the reach of little fingers which might -hanker after the fascinating occupation of lowering the light or putting -it up to such an extent that the glass might be smashed in less than no -time. - -The short curtains and absence of blinds which I always advocate, and -which idea has been largely copied and adopted, are just indicated in -the picture, as is the long straight seat under the windows, which would -take the place of the sofa if there were not room for one; but the -useful serge or arras cloth should be used instead of cretonne here, as -cretonne so soon gets out of order in a place which is so much used as -such a window-seat might be. Corduroy velveteen would also make an -admirable covering, and would always be, in a measure, tidy. It is -possible to make these window-seats do double duty as a seat and also as -a box, for instead of the front being a ‘hollow mockery,’ as it is when -it is a simple frill and nothing else, it could be a wooden box, and the -seat could be a padded lid, which could lift up and down. A small frill -nailed on the top of the seat would conceal the opening, and the front -of the box could be covered with frilled material like small organ -pipes. This would hold any quantity of work, old books, magazines, and -rubbish generally: rubbish which is of no use at all, but is absolutely -priceless to the little owners. - -I think anyone who has ever owned a dolls’-house will admire my idea for -a fixed one, because all who have ever possessed a similar abode must -have occasionally pulled it down about the ears when engaged in an -orthodox game with this most fascinating toy, at least it used to be -fascinating in my day; judging from my two girls no one can care now for -them, for the beauty we had has long since gone to a hospital, owing to -the absolute indifference with which its many charms were treated by our -children. But if there still exist any small maidens who treat their -houses as we used to, I am sure this arrangement of cupboard shelves -with a real house front and a flap to let down, properly painted of -course like a hall door, with windows above, must commend itself to -them. The flap makes a table for dolls’ meals and parties, and is very -useful for house cleaning, which delightful occupation invariably -occurred in my day every Saturday regularly; but then we used to cover -up our furniture with dust-sheets when we went to the seaside, and, -furthermore, always deposited our wills in the drawing-room bureau under -the same adventurous and dangerous circumstances, sealing the house at -one side with the device of a dove bearing an olive-branch in its mouth, -so that we might be quite sure profane hands had not meddled with our -house or our possessions during our absence. I do not know if in these -grown-up days of ours, and of competitive examinations and women’s -rights, there is time or inclination either for elaborate games, such as -we used to play over the dolls’-house, but I hope there is, as nothing -is more truly engaging than such a possession, for which netting new -curtains, and making new furniture, even occupied the boys, while, of -course, we were never tired of altering and arranging and making too. -Little as I work or care for working, I am sure I should enjoy making a -Berlin-wool carpet now for someone‘s dolls’-house, only, unfortunately, -I don’t know anyone who has one. I should not require a pattern; I -remember the black diamonds accurately, each diamond being filled with a -different coloured wool, making a _tout ensemble_ to be feared, indeed, -in these æsthetic days of ours. - -Many a wet afternoon has been happily passed in washing and ‘getting up’ -our net curtains for the windows, in rearranging them and tying them up -with ribands bought at Whiteley’s, when it was one wee shop served by -the Universal Provider himself and two girls, for which we saved our -money; and I sincerely believe my first love of decoration and adornment -of the house was fostered, if it were not born, of the intense -attachment I had for my dolls’-house, at the desk of which I wrote my -first attempt at poetry--and very awful it was--and to whose sheltering -care I confided many a packet of MSS., which I was always going to -submit to a publisher, but which paucity of stamps kept safely in the -dolls’-house until I was old enough to know what utter rubbish I had -written, and how worthily it would have been rapidly entombed in the -waste-paper basket. - -Below the dolls’-house illustrated there is a drawer, which can hold any -amount of odds and ends, and of course the whole side of the room could -be dolls’-house if cupboard space were not required, but, as it may be, -the cupboard is shown above the house, decorated with a spray of -flowers, painted by someone who knows how to paint; not by any amateur -dauber, for you must never allow bad art in your nursery, even if you -know it will have to be done away with in a comparatively short time. -The other side of the fireplace can be another cupboard; this should be -treated exactly like the one shown, of course without the dolls’-house. -This will give ample space for all the nursery belongings, for no one -should be allowed to hoard, though a certain amount of rubbish should -always be winked at, but broken toys and torn books should be mended and -patched--capital work that for wet days--and should always be sent off -to the omnivorous Sisters at Kilburn, who can use anything, it doesn’t -matter what, and who will welcome as treasures what the children will no -longer use; therefore nothing should be thrown away. Nurses and children -alike all enjoy mending and making for the Kilburn orphans, if only they -are told about them and asked to take an interest in the good work done -there. I have looked about all over London, I think, since writing my -first book to find a suitable floor-covering for the nursery, and have -not satisfied myself quite that I have done it. I cannot like or in any -way advise linoleum there. It is cold, ugly, and there is an undeniable -odour about it that never leaves it, and therefore I do not like to see -it in a room which should always be as pretty as we can make it. I -think, therefore, it is best to buy a square carpet, with either a -border or else a good woollen fringe round, and put this down over -carpet felt. Wallace’s ‘blue anemone’ Brussels carpet, at 3_s._ 11_d._ a -yard, would wear some years, or a cheaper carpet still might be had in -the ‘blue lily,’ at 3_s._ 9_d._, wide width; but I should prefer the -Brussels for really hard wear. The staining round the room should not be -more than 12 inches wide, and should be done with Jackson’s varnish -stains. When the stained boards begin to get shabby the nursemaid can -paint them over herself with some stain, and they can be kept in order -by a weekly polish from the stuff sold by Jackson for the purpose. Half -a gallon of the stain is sufficient for a margin round a good-sized -room. This would cost 6_s._, and proper directions for applying the -stains are sent out with them. Personally, I prefer the dark oak or -walnut stain to any of the others. There should never be a hearth-rug in -any room; but I must again state this in connection with the nursery, it -would only cause accidents, and would serve at least to conceal the -depredations of a careless nursemaid, who cannot refrain from making -that portion of the carpet filthy with carelessness when she is doing -the grate if she should be provided with a rug with which to cover up -her sins. The carpet can be turned round to ensure equal wear if the -square is made as suggested, and should last quite ten years, which is -as long as any carpet should be allowed to last, in my opinion; an older -carpet being a repository of dirt and dust, and therefore cannot be -healthy, a reason why I should never advocate very expensive carpets, as -I much prefer to be able to have a new one without too much exertion on -my part, especially in bedrooms, and in such rooms as nurseries and -schoolrooms. - -I am, however, again describing a nursery, and this instead of calmly -discussing how best to do away with it; but I will make a confession -here, and then I fear I shall show how bad an advocate I should prove -were I called in to advise how best to do away with this room, which in -all real homes is the very heart of the household. For be it known to my -readers, that, as my youngest child was eight years old, I determined, -Spartan-like, to do away with the nursery, and converted the room into a -sitting and sleeping room for my nurse, who was henceforth to act as -maid; the young person, who was as her own baby, being taken from her -and sent to share her sister’s rooms, one of which was to be part -school, part sitting room; but we were all so uncomfortable I had no -heart to continue the arrangement. When small friends came to tea there -was nowhere for them to go; wet days were things to be dreaded because -the child had no real place of her own for her things, and, after -struggling on for nearly a year, we have returned to the nursery, -although we try our hardest to call it school-room, and are now so much -happier in consequence. - -Another problem--should we do away with the nursery--is, What is to -become of the nurse? You may call her a maid and give her your garments -to look after, and tell her she must now take on her the work of a maid, -but she will never do this properly; she will miss her room and her -occupation, and she will move about miserably, missing the children and -yet not knowing what she misses, and will neither be useful nor -pleasant. But leave her her nursery, and one child if possible, and she -will be quite happy; and, much as we may hanker after a maid, the ideal -creature who shall never have to be told that buttons are off or skirts -torn, who shall make our every-day dresses and retrim our bonnets, we -owe something to the nurse who has looked after the children at the -worst and most critical time of their lives, and are bound, if we cannot -afford the two luxuries, to sacrifice the maid and cling to the nurse. -And be quite sure if we do we shall be rewarded; the children may be -grown up, but even grown-up folks have colds and headaches, and -sometimes worse ailments than these, and who so fit to keep watch over -these ailments as the nurse, who has gallantly steered us through -measles, whooping-cough, and the thousand ailments other people’s -selfishness is always handing on from generation to generation?--no one, -surely; and if she and the nursery are retained together, there is -always someone who knows what to do in an emergency, and a place to go -to to be petted and quieted and made much of, as only a nurse can do who -has had her nurslings from the first and loves them as only their mother -and nurse know how to love. We have two such nurses in our family: I -one, my sister the other, and I can never advise doing away with any -nursery when I remember all that this may probably mean to others beside -the householders themselves. - -In a large house, therefore--a house where, let us hope, people mean to -stay some years--this is an extra reason for making the nursery as -pretty as possible. One cannot be very sentimental over a schoolroom; -there is always a suspicion of ogre’s castle about that room, and it can -invariably be turned into the girls’ sitting-room or into a -billiard-room at the earliest opportunity, but all the sentiment of the -home is to be found in the nursery, where the children are without a -care or a trouble, and where they are gaining strength and health for -the battle of life; therefore, let us never grudge any money we can -afford being spent upon the nursery. As I said before, I always consider -blue by far the pleasantest colour to live with, which is one reason why -I advocate blue in the nursery; but of course endless combinations of -colour could be had which would be equally pleasing and successful, but -not as nice to live with always. However, I will give one or two which -might perhaps be liked better by people who are not as fully convinced -as I am on the merits of blue. - -A pink and cream nursery would be pretty and bright, and could be -managed by using Pither’s cream and pink bay-tree paper, all cream -paint, and a dado; the dado of Haines’ anaglypta, painted cream, the -ceiling paper should be J. & H. Land’s green and white ‘Watteau’ -ceiling, at 3_s._, the carpet should be either the green ‘lily,’ or -‘Stella,’ or ‘anemone,’ from Wallace, and the cretonne should be -Oetzmann’s sage-green ‘algæ’ cretonne, at 1_s._ 3½_d._, the muslin -curtains being, if possible, of Helbronner’s pink and green ‘lily’ -muslin, an expensive muslin but a very lovely one, which would complete -the room nicely. The furniture should be ash and as simple as possible, -and the flowers on the cupboard should be the pink flowering rush with -slender reeds, and a few pale Marguerites. Yet another decoration could -be made by using a high dado of Liberty’s nut-brown arras cloth, at -9¾_d._ a yard; this would be sufficiently high to allow of the toy-shelf -being used instead of a dado-rail; above this the paper should be -Pither’s ‘Buttercup, C,’ at 2_s._ 6_d._, a dull yellow-brown paper; all -the paint should be ‘golden-brown,’ the ceiling paper should be yellow -and white, the curtains yellow ‘Venetian’ cretonne, reversible, at 1_s._ -1_d._, clear Indian muslin underneath, and the carpet should be Pither’s -golden-brown cottage carpet. This scheme sounds dull, but were anyone so -unfortunate as to be condemned to use a sunless room as a nursery, she -would find this arrangement would bring the sunshine into the room in a -remarkable manner; while dark-blue curtains, carpet, and coverings would -make the room less severe and be equally satisfactory, more especially -if Colbourne’s Hawthorne muslin in yellow and white were placed next -the window. Still, in a sunless room, one cannot have too much yellow; -yellow serge would be found useful here for curtains should the windows -be large, or a draught come in which would be too much for the cretonne -to keep out, though cretonne should always be lined with Burnett’s -sateen at _7d._ a yard, and for a nursery should be edged with frills; -the ball-fringe is really too tempting for small children, who cannot -resist the delights of pulling off the little tufts wherever they are -within reach of their fingers. - -A most successful decoration, if rather a dainty one, was carried out -under my directions the other day, and may be mentioned here, as variety -is always pleasing to some minds, and it may be liked by those who -approve of bright colours; it consisted in staining all the woodwork -with Jackson’s malachite green stain and papering the walls with -Pither’s admirable red and cream ‘buttercup’ paper, the ceiling being -papered with a pale green and white paper; the floor was covered with a -green drugget from Barr & Elliott’s, at 2_s._ a yard, wide width, which -is wearing admirably, and all the furniture was in quaint stained wood -from Mr. Armitage, examples of which are illustrated in the chapter on -kitchens; the settle, table, and chairs, being all made by him, as were -the mantel and over-mantel; in the centre of this latter piece of -furniture was placed a square of looking-glass, though I personally -should have preferred a good autotype in the red tints. The tiles in the -grate were red, and there was the orthodox high fender with brass rails, -which should never be wanting in any room where there are children; the -table-cloth and curtains were of green serge, the exact shade of the -staining, and the room altogether was far prettier than I had expected -it to be, although I must confess my expectations were very high. - -Out of one of these schemes of decoration--and I am glad to say that all -are possible, for Pither, among others, will always keep in stock any -paper that has really found favour with the public; therefore I am not -recommending what will be out of anyone’s power to possess almost before -these words are in type, as was the case a very few years ago--it will -be quite easy to evolve a nursery in the new house which will be so -pretty and appealing to the inhabitants, that when the last baby is a -tall young person, either rejoicing in knickerbockers or a frock, or in -being in the schoolroom as a matter of course, and who goes for walks -and has meals in company with the elders--and we are forced to consider -the problem with which I headed this chapter--we may reply unanimously, -No; not as long as nurse lives, nor as long as there is the very -smallest chance of illness or of our having to entertain small visitors. -For these even the cots and high chairs should be retained; they do not -eat anything, as one of our old nurses used to say when I wanted to give -away some of the treasures, and they may even come in for the -grandchildren, who will appreciate, as no one else can, the fact that -they are having just what their parents had, and sitting and sleeping in -the very beds and chairs they used to patronise. It is from the mistakes -of others we learn most, and I have never forgotten the lamentations -among old servants at home, when the nurseries being done away with and -every cot scattered to the four winds of heaven, my mother had to borrow -cots and turn the house almost upside down to take in her grandchildren, -who were suddenly sent to her to be looked after during a sudden stress -of illness, an inconvenience that caused endless worry and bustle, but -would have been nothing at all had the old nurseries still been as they -were, and which, as a rule, can be easily managed in a big house where -the nurseries have been properly arranged for. - -Then, too, the position of the two rooms close together, and generally a -little way removed from the rest of the house, though not at the top, I -beg, makes them a most admirable place for an invalid to retire to; -there is always a chance of illness--aye, even serious illness--as one -gets on in life, and all sorts of disagreeable things remind one that -one is not immortal; and though, as a rule, houses are built -emphatically to live in, and neither to be ill nor die in--though, -despite the architects, both these unpleasant matters are possible--one -can generally in a large house manage that the nurseries shall be close -together and quiet; therefore, they should be kept apart for our own -use. We could be ill most comfortably in the night nursery, and -convalescent in the day nursery, which could, however, be used for our -nurse did we require one, and the cheerful pretty papers and the -thoughts that would be inseparable from these rooms would alike help us -to bear our woes, while we could have nurse to talk to and to ‘do for -us’ as no one else could--no one who did not know us thoroughly, and, -having seen us in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, -knows exactly what we can bear and how to manage us best. - -Thinking over everything, then, considering carefully what the nurseries -have been and what they may be, I do most seriously beg all my -contemporaries to pause a very long time before they lay a ruthless hand -on what was once as sacred as a shrine. No amount of decoration can -embellish walls decorated with the hopes and joys of our youth, and -one’s first playing at Motherhood; no other paper and paint give us the -idea, or remind us as do the old papers and paint, of a thousand and one -things no one can possibly want to forget; not even the miseries endured -during serious illness, the anxieties turned into joy, or may be -deepened into dreadful gloom by death itself, should be forgotten; aye, -a thousand times should they be remembered if this be the case, and, -though this is an impatient age when no one wants to think, and when -death is treated so lightly that people are in society and deepest black -at the same time, and when all are so impatient of the sorrow death -brings with it, that ‘no one stays at home except the corpse,’ I trust I -shall not number many of them among my readers, or indeed anyone who -cannot and will not thankfully remember their past, and as they grow -old, Darby and Joan together, will not spare time to look back gladly -and happily to days which were better, perhaps, than the present days of -feeble steps and darkened lights, but which are no less happy if Edwin -and Angelina are still hand int hand and heart to heart, and have proved -for themselves the absolute truth that where marriage is begun in love, -continued in love, and ended in love, it can never be anything save -success, and that anyone who calls it a failure must know absolutely -nothing whatever about it. To such a couple as this, the nurseries must -always be sacred places, and they will be as reluctant as I am to do -away with them. I think, therefore, I may take it for granted that -unless absolutely pressed for room we shall retain our nurseries, -keeping them fresh and bright and nice in case we are ill, or in case -we have our grandchildren to see us, or in case we have small visitors, -who, being provided with suitable rooms, are nothing but a pleasure to -us, when otherwise they might be nothing except a trouble and a -nuisance. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE GIRLS’ ROOM. - - -In writing about the girls’ room, I mean to consider a great deal more -than decoration, though naturally that will not be neglected, for I am -more and more convinced as years go by that something definite must be -done in the way of providing for the women who flood the market and -struggle--alas! that it should be so--in the open streets with men for -their living, instead of contenting themselves with being the helpmeets -of those with whom they wage this unseemly warfare. I have a very strong -opinion that people should not bring into the world any more children -than they can reasonably hope to equip in some measure for the fight. -Boys can always make their way, women cannot; and though I do not agree -with Mr. Besant, who declares that women hate work and do not wish ever -to do anything, I do think that no woman should be obliged to work for -mere food and clothes--at all events in the ranks above the lower middle -classes; and that no woman’s constitution can stand the anxiety of -providing her own sustenance, and at the same time doing work to procure -this sustenance; for anxiety paralyses a woman, and the more she is -obliged to take thought for the morrow the less able is she to ensure -the morrow’s being provided for by her work. She should, therefore, -never be placed in a position in which she is literally forced out into -public strife, unless from her very earliest days she has been brought -up among workers and taught that her future can be nothing but severe -toil. - -Can one speak too strongly of the wicked selfishness of people who bring -ten or eleven children into the world, knowing that, were they to die -to-morrow, the unhappy creatures would either starve, or do worse than -starve in the workhouse or in one of those excellent and stony-hearted -institutions where the child becomes a unit among hundreds of uniformed -units, with never a pretty frock or sash among them, and never a chance -of anything save work outside the walls and of an ultimate grave?--of -the insensate and odious conduct of those parents who bring up their -children to have every single thing they require, and then, when the -girls do not marry and grow old at home, leave them penniless when -totally unable to work, because they have never known they must--never -have learned a single thing worth knowing, and that they must either -starve genteelly or live on their overburdened relations, or add to the -already fearful number of people who paint dreadful little tables and -tambourines, sew infamously, or try the thousand and one ways of making -a little money, which cheapen the market and bring institutions for the -sale of work done by ladies into the profoundest contempt? I say that -the State should interfere, and force a man to lay by for his daughters, -at least so much that will keep them from such an end, or to give them -such an education that at any moment they could work--could do the work -that from their earliest days they should learn is waiting for them in -the near future; and that if a man’s own sense will not teach him that -he has no right to make helpless women suffer (as women must suffer who -find themselves destitute in middle age), he should be treated like a -criminal and punished by a jury, which should be composed of women who -have suffered in their turn through their parents’ selfishness. -Naturally this would be impossible, but I do wish men’s consciences -could be awakened, and every successful man who is working hard, -spending all he makes, and adding yearly to the frocked darlings in the -nursery with scarcely an _arrière pensée_, would remember in the dead of -the night, when one’s sins generally find one out, that the day of -reckoning will come--that some day the children brought up in luxury and -accustomed to think the world their own will be faded spinsters (for out -of a large family some are sure to remain unmarried in these days), and -that all the sweetness and light of the early life will be forgotten, -and the father will be cursed when these faded, sorrowful women have to -look forward to nothing but patient starvation or a corner grudged to -them by their more successful relations, to whom they can never be -anything save incumbrances; for these disappointed ones of the earth -always resent prosperity in anyone else, and are apt to snarl and snap -at those who dole them out the bread they so unwillingly take. - -Why should not the State compel every working man with two or more -daughters (after two the case should be legislated for) to pay in a part -of his income to some fund for providing for the women? And by working -men I mean those who have no capital except their brains--the artists, -lawyers, clergymen, professional men of all kinds, who have nothing but -themselves to depend upon. The man making and spending his 1,500_l._ a -year should be forced to put by at least 200_l._ a year for the poor -girls who come into the world without their own consent, and who are -left absolutely destitute, save of a certain amount of distaste for -anything save enjoyment, and an absolute dislike of doing anything save -just what it pleases them to do at the moment; while at the same time a -properly mapped-out education should be provided that will enable them -to earn something in addition to the pittance the State would be keeping -for them against a rainy day, but which would be something on which they -could rely with certainty, and which would allow them to contemplate -possible illness without the deadly sinking that fills the breast of any -woman who has absolutely nothing but her own self to rely upon, and who -knows she must starve or seek the cold comfort of the corner mentioned -before if she cannot continue her labour. - -I cannot put the case too strongly before the fathers and mothers who -may read this book; for, after all, they must be their own State, and do -their own legislating. They must not have enormous families that they -cannot feed, clothe, or educate respectably; and they must so manage -their affairs that the girls can rely on the 100_l._ a year, which is -all I ask for--all that is absolutely necessary to keep a single woman -in comfort, but not luxury; the luxuries must be earned or gone without. -They must do this, I say, unless they wish to look down from whence they -may go after death, and have their hearts lacerated and torn by the -sight of the women they have left to starve and to curse those who have -entailed so much misery on them. There surely would be some insurance -company who would undertake to do for all what the Edinburgh Life -Assurance Company, 11 King William Street, E.C., does for -schoolmistresses who like to pay in a certain amount yearly--viz. pay -them a pension at a certain age, or else a sum of money, whichever they -prefer; and the parents could, as soon as they added another daughter to -the household, begin providing for her. If they cannot do this, I -maintain they are absolutely wicked in adding that little life to the -overwhelming population already here. - -There is no misery to be compared to the misery of a woman who, never -having imagined her future can be aught but a sheltered one, finds -herself at middle age absolutely destitute and at the mercy of her -relations. She has no claim on anyone but her parents, and she knows -this, and suffers infinitely. Therefore those parents must contemplate -this: must understand that marriage does not come to the lot of -everyone, and that, even if it does, the woman should not go penniless -to her husband, but should have some small allowance to enable her to -feel independent, and to add to her house, or her children’s pleasures, -out of her own resources. Here, again, I mention the 100_l._ a year. -Each girl in an upper middle-class family--the professional man’s -family--cannot possibly cost any amount less than that; in the case, of -course, of some, 50_l._ would be amply sufficient, and this sum should -be allowed yearly as long as the father lived; after which, insurance -money should be forthcoming that would insure something at all events, -if not quite as much as they have been having. - -If, however, it is absolutely impossible for a man to give his daughters -anything--in which case they ought most distinctly never to have been -born--he is bound to tell them so honestly from their earliest days, and -he is equally bound to give them such an education that at any moment -they can earn something, either as domestic servants--and, for my part, -I would, and far rather, be a parlourmaid than a nursery governess--or -as Board school teachers, designers, or as members of such of the home -branches of toil as are open to women who cannot aspire to the higher -education and the advantages of Girton and similar establishments. - -Of course the subject of woman’s work is one on which volumes have been -written, and volumes might still be compiled from the same source, and I -could not naturally go into all the _pros_ and _cons_ of each occupation -in this chapter, even if I knew them all, which I do not; but I do -strongly beg my readers to dissuade their girls from competing with the -men; they only lower prices, and, finally, prevent the men from marrying -them by giving themselves one less chance of fulfilling the proper end -of their sex--viz. to make a home in the fullest sense of the word. -There is plenty for women to do without scratching and fighting with the -men. If only they can realise that fact I shall not have written in -vain. - -I have had lately a great deal to do with women who have to earn their -own living, and I have never found one who really could and would work -at anything that turned up who could not add in an appreciable manner to -her income; but I have also found hundreds who would not even try to do -what I could offer them, but who preferred to dabble with paint, to -embroider hideous cushions no one wants, and which cost pounds to make, -to undertaking the ‘smocking,’ the upholstery, and, above all, the -dressmaking and cooking with which any sensible woman, who is honest and -hard-working, can keep herself and manage to get along comfortably. No; -if they can’t get just the work they want, they will not take any; or, -if they take it, they grumble; don’t return it at the time they promise; -and, finally, are so unbusinesslike that their employers are in despair, -and vow that, come what may, they will never employ a so-called lady -again. - -And it is also astonishing to me how the mere fact of being gently born -seems to these poor things to excuse all their failings. Rickety -screens, impossible pictures, frightful woollies--all must be sold at a -higher rate for them than for anyone else, because they are made by -ladies. And so it should be if ladies understood that, because they are -ladies, they should be more punctual and better workers than the poorer -classes, if their ladyhood were a hall-mark instead of a screen for -their misdemeanours. But they will not see this, and in consequence they -bring discredit on their order, and make the very words ‘Poor lady!’ -synonymous with everything that is bad and absolutely unsaleable. - -To be a successful worker one must take the work which comes before one, -and one must be trained to work, to punctuality, and to business habits; -therefore, if there be one of the families of daughters no other nation -produces in the reckless way our own does, it is imperative that the -training to work begins in the nursery, and that the defenceless girls -are given this equipment at least, even if the parents can do no more -for them. - -The boys are born to work; they are carefully trained and brought up for -this end, but there are hundreds of cases where the fathers have either -been suddenly ruined or become poor through illness or their own -selfishness, and who turn the girls out in their turn, and are much -astonished when the poor things flounder hopelessly about and cannot -keep themselves, because they have had absolutely no training which -shall fit them for work. - -I feel, in writing this chapter, which concerns the girls of the -household, that I cannot say too much about the subject of some -provision being made for them, and that they should be relieved not only -from the necessity of having to find a market for unskilled labour, but -also from the trial of marrying if they do not want to do so, or if they -do not see anyone they really love, because their parents are -continually telling them it is their duty to marry in order to make room -for their younger sisters. - -Now, incredible as it may sound to male ears, there are very many women -to whom marriage and the obligations and responsibilities entailed -thereby are absolutely distasteful and disagreeable. As a rule, these -women make the best wives and house-mothers, but they are not the -happiest people in the world, and would probably have been both happier -and better had they followed out their own inclinations and lived their -own lives in their own way, without the constant presence of a man and -the unceasing cares of a household on their shoulders. They do not -understand Love with a big L, and passion and they are strangers for -ever, and always would be, but they marry at their parents’ request, to -clear out the nest, and they certainly miss the higher happiness which, -perchance, might have come had they waited, either from their work or -from meeting the one individual who might have roused their sleeping -souls and shown them a glimpse of the paradise that exists, I believe, -for those lucky natures who understand what we may call the ‘Ouidaesque’ -aspect of the case; albeit I also think they use up rapidly in that -short sojourn in Paradise, which serves more sober-minded folk for the -whole of life’s journey. For myself I cannot speak. I am a prosaic, -unsentimental individual, and so far have got on without sentiment very -well indeed; but other people may not be as I am, and may endure misery -by marrying the first man who asks them because they see plainly how -desperately they are grudged the room in the house which should have -been theirs for ever, and from which they should have been allowed to go -reluctantly to the husband, who appreciates his wife a thousandfold if -he understands he is only allowed possession on sufferance, and that she -was wanted by her own people quite as badly as ever he could want her -himself. - -And this brings me round to the question of giving the girls their own -room in the house, where they can do just what they please, and where -they can ask their own friends to tea should they desire to do so; not, -however, in the American way, which empowers the young people to have -festivals whenever they like, and to ask whom they like to them, but in -a mitigated form, which compels them to ask permission to entertain, and -furthermore to produce a list of names, so that full knowledge may be -the mother’s portion, and that she may know exactly who is coming, and, -moreover, what is going on. If the girls have their own sitting-room, -they feel their residence under the paternal roof is meant to last as -long as the roof itself, and they have not that hurried, disagreeable -feeling some unfortunate girls must be given by the parents who make no -provision for their permanent comfort, and who openly speak of what they -shall do when So-and-so gets married; poor So-and-so, who has never had -an offer in her life, and shrinks away from every man she sees, as she -cannot help regarding him as the monster who carries off a damsel -whether she wishes it or not, because the fetish of home has to be -appeased, and the fabric kept together by the quick sacrifice of those -who are old enough to be chained to the rock to await his advances. - -The home--of the making and the decorating, the management, and the -keeping together of which I feel I can never say too much--cannot -possibly be made too happy, too pleasant for the younger members of it; -but they in their turn must understand that they, too, have their part -in the whole to perform. The grown-up daughter in such a home is a most -precious possession; she can save her mother endless trouble, she can -and does take the burden of most of the detail on her shoulders, and for -her, therefore, should be arranged some place, no matter how small, that -she can call her own, and where she can in some measure do much as she -likes, for she is sure to have some pet occupation--friends to write to, -work to do, all sorts of things to see about, and which she can only -attend to in a room set apart for her and her belongings. - -In many cases the schoolroom makes an admirable girls’ room, but should -this room be occupied by the younger children when the elder daughter is -‘out’ and requires a room to herself, a capital arrangement could be -made for her by copying the French fashion of a boudoir-bedroom, an -arrangement for which is illustrated here, and which my artist has -adapted from a room I used to have in my Dorsetshire house, where space -was a great object, and where the downstairs rooms were so badly managed -that it was impossible to have a morning-room in which I could sit, -although there were two tiny rooms beside the dining-and drawing-rooms, -which we turned into bachelors’ bedrooms, and which constituted our only -spare rooms for some time. These rooms were larger than need be bestowed -on the eldest girl of a house, and were made by removing the partition -between a bed-and dressing-room; the bed and dressing-table, which also -served as a washhand-stand, were completely screened off by a long and -very tall Japanese screen; the cabinet, which stands by the side of the -bed, held a quantity of linen, &c., and always looked very decorative, -and not in the least like the humble chest of drawers that it -undoubtedly was; while the couch in the first window served as a sofa, -and, furthermore, held any quantity of dresses, supplemented as it was -by the cupboard, the doors of which are panelled with Japanese leather, -put in nearly twenty years ago, and verily, I do believe, the very first -doors in England that were ever treated in this manner. I never saw any -elsewhere, though, of course, now to find a door with undecorated panels -is rather an impossibility, - -[Illustration: FIG. 16.--Boudoir-Bedroom.] - -at all events in any house the owner of which aspires to be in the least -degree artistic. - -The room illustrated here was papered with a very soft brown-and-gold -paper, and had a dado of red-and-white matting, and a hideous shade of -terra-cotta paint. In those days one could not find a ceiling paper -anywhere, and I was obliged to content myself with a species of -_café-au-lait_ wash on the ceiling, which much exercised the mind of the -local decorator, to say nothing of my own, for though I knew I hated the -ordinary whitewash, I did not quite know how to set about a change; but -notwithstanding that, my _café-au-lait_ ceiling was rather smeary, and -was profoundly jeered at by the good local housekeepers, to whom a -spotless ceiling and a clear conscience were synonymous, and to whom -anything new or strange meant undoubtedly an unsafe spiritual condition. -The relief from the white glare of the ordinary ceiling was so great -that I stuck to it manfully, and even added a blue ceiling to one of the -other rooms until I came across a pretty paper, and had that put up, to -the intense disgust of the builder and the open horror of the -inhabitants, who since my day have papered their ceilings too, and done -all sorts of other things which I used to preach in my bridal-days, but -of which they took no heed until they saw me in print; then they were -quite sure I was right, and began to alter their houses and make them -prettier than they had ever been before. - -I should not now put terra-cotta and brown together, but that room -somehow always looked very harmonious; the short frilled curtains were -of a charming soft terra-cotta and white cretonne, which unfortunately -has been out of stock for something like fourteen years. The muslin was -a very soft Madras with frills also, and the couch was covered in the -same patterned cretonne, only in blue and white; when the paper became -shabby and a little dull I added a frieze of Japanese fans all round, -and they gave just the colour I required to the room. One cannot somehow -buy such good fans nowadays as those were, unfortunately; and this is -not imagination, for I possess a good many of these identical ones now, -and I can never find in any of the numerous Japanese shops which have -succeeded Liberty & Hewitt, or I should say followed them, any paper -fans that are half such good colours or such pretty designs as those -which formed the frieze in that particular room. I had the floor covered -entirely with matting, and rugs were placed about. The whole of the -furniture, with the exception of the writing-table shown in window No. -2, was wickerwork, and as in those days there was no Aspinall, I had to -beg my varnished paint from the man who mended our carriages, and who -could never produce anything except a very good black and a particularly -awful blue, which I only tried once, and eschewed in favour of black, -which remained on for years, and finally succumbed to the superior -charms of Aspinall’s hedge-sparrow-egg blue and other delicate and -pleasant colours. - -The shelves, both in the recesses by the fireplace and between the -windows, will give an excellent idea how to manage these dwarf -bookcases, which hold a quantity of books, while the tops serve as -cabinets or stands for china. The corners of the room had a series of -long wooden brackets in each, edged with frills of dark-blue velveteen, -and the mantel-piece had on a painted board for the shelf edged with a -deep frill or flounce, also of the same dark-blue velveteen; a narrow -strip of looking-glass was placed along at the back, as overmantels were -not invented, and I had always a horror of the great glass sheets then -in vogue; while above that hung pictures, fans, &c., which made a -species of overmantel arrangement for myself, with which I was quite -satisfied. The room altogether always looked pretty and nice, and was -much admired; it was always full of ferns and palms and flowers too, -without which no room can ever look well, spend what one may on the -furniture and decorations thereof. This species of boudoir-bedroom is -always a capital possession, and were space no object in a house I -should always arrange the bed-chambers in a similar manner: there should -be a dressing-room and bath-room to each, where all the dressing -operations could be carried on; and the bath should be shut off by -double doors from the passage. Such an arrangement is quite delightful -both for visitors and when one has to remain in one’s room from -ill-health, for once up and on the sofa the whole appearance of a -bedroom vanishes when the screen is in place, which is put straight -along between the bed and the cabinet. All the housework is done behind -the screen, the housemaids entering by the curtained door, and the -invalid is not worried by the sight of bed-making operations, while her -room always looks nice, and she can receive there anyone she may care to -see, which she could not do were the room frankly a bed-chamber and -nothing else. - -Of course on ordinary days the windows must be opened as soon as -dressing is over, and left open for a good two hours’ spell of airing, -and the room should not be sat in after tea or after luncheon if -possible. This gives ample time for a due course of airing, the only -objection anyone could make to this arrangement being that probably the -room might be stuffy, or the air in it exhausted by being used during -the day as well as slept in during the night. This objection vanishes -into thin air when the windows are opened widely and kept open from -about two till bedtime; indeed, I say after bedtime, for whatever the -weather may be I have one window open all night, and whenever possible -every window which will open remains so; indeed, one window in our -present house has not been closed for a moment during three years. - -Now, in decorating a room on a smaller scale for a girl, her own -individual taste should be in some measure consulted, but nothing can -possibly be or look better than the delightful ‘Watteau’ paper, sold by -Haines, at 2_s._ 6_d._ the piece. It is a paper of which one never -tires, and has also the capital quality of being no distinct colour, and -of allowing any colour being used in the room with it; while at the same -time, should a distinct hue be desired, a room decorated with the -‘Watteau’ paper can be made distinctly blue, moss-green or coral-pink, -according to the manner in which the room is painted, or according to -the frieze or dado selected. For example, the paper could be hung above -a dado of cretonne sold by Shoolbred at 1_s._ 4½_d._ a yard, which -almost matches the paper, the paint in this case being ivory, and the -ceiling paper Land & Co.’s ‘Watteau’ in yellow and white, at 3_s._ the -piece. The curtains could be either of the same cretonne or of a Louis -XVI. brocade, sold by Colbourne at 2_s._ 11½_d._ a yard, double width. -The floor could be covered with matting, and there should be some rugs -about on the floor, thus making one decoration without any distinct -colour. Another could be the ‘Watteau’ with a plain green frieze or a -frieze of Haines ‘rose’ paper, at 10_s._ a piece. This is run round the -room, not put on in strips like wall-paper, and therefore would not be -as expensive as it sounds. The frieze-rail and all the woodwork could be -stained green with Jackson’s malachite green stain; the ceiling paper -could be pink and white; the carpet, Wallace’s green ‘lily;’ and the -chairs could be stained green, and upholstered either in the pinky -terra-cotta Louis XVI. brocade, of which the curtains could be made, or -else of the ‘Watteau’ cretonne mentioned above. The bed should be -covered with a worked quilt--a good occupation for any girl would it be -to make such quilts; while the towels and pillow-cases should all bear -embroidered monograms, marking-ink being a positive badge of disgrace in -a household where there should be useful fingers. - -There are a great many floral papers, such as the ‘rose,’ at 3_s._ -9_d._, sold by Giles; the ‘carnation,’ sold by Maple; and the ‘wild -rose,’ sold by Haines, which are all charming for such rooms, or, -indeed, for any room; but should a severer form of decoration be -required, my readers cannot go wrong with any of Pither’s papers, or of -Liberty’s new damasque papers, which are all as good and artistic as -they can be, and which can be used fearlessly by anyone who is not sure -enough of his own taste to allow himself to select a paper on his own -account, or has not time and patience to encounter the invariable battle -with the decorator, who will not produce, until he is absolutely -obliged, any paper on which he cannot see his way to making an -exorbitant profit, and who sets forth paper after paper, trusting to his -own ingenuity and his powers of wearying his victim to enable him to -sell some venerable ‘shopkeeper’ which has long vexed his soul by its -unremunerative existence on some back shelf. - -I am delighted myself with Liberty’s damasque papers, which have only -been brought out since I wrote my first book, and which, therefore, have -not had the honourable mention there that they so very richly deserve to -have had, the blue and silver ‘tulip damasque,’ at 2_s._, being a -perfect paper, and one that would be quite satisfactory in a -boudoir-bedroom, unless it happened to be a very small one; in that case -the blue and silver marigold, at 1_s._ 6_d._, would do equally well. -With these papers a dado is imperative, as I do not consider they have -sufficient substance in them to withstand the wear and tear inseparable -from their position at the base of the wall. A dado of Treloar’s thin -matting or of a good red-and-gold Japanese paper would look well. With -the matting the paint should be ivory, with the leather paper a good red -paint should be selected which will harmonise with the blue. In any case -a red carpet, such as Pither’s dull red ‘cottage’ carpet, or Wallace’s -dull red ‘anemone,’ should be selected, and the curtains should be the -same red in serge, or else in a dull blue cretonne, the ‘algæ’ made on -purpose to harmonise with this paper by Oetzmann. - -The planning and talking over the arrangement of this room will be a -great amusement both to mother and daughter, and I strongly recommend -the mother to attempt nothing in the way of a surprise, but to frankly -take her daughter into her confidence and consult her tastes on the -subject if she wishes the room to be a real success. I am compelled to -recommend this course from an experience of my own, because I have never -forgotten my unconcealable dismay at returning home after a long visit -to find my own mother had planned such a surprise for me, but had in all -innocence, and with such kindness, done such dreadful things to my pet -belongings that I often recall the remembrance of my start of horror and -exclamation of dismay with the profoundest contrition, for I did not -know then what I have only realised in after years, that I must have -pained her dreadfully, for, dear soul, she had done all the renovations -out of her own savings, and had taken much trouble and pains about it, -and I could not help saying, ‘Oh, why did you let them do this?’ before -I realised that this was a surprise, and I ought to have been enchanted -instead of dismayed at her renovations--renovations that were in -absolute good taste, for her taste was perfect, and her house charming -long before anyone else cared for their house, but which somehow were -not my ideas, and which annoyed me dreadfully because the arrangements -were not mine at all, and which I never dared alter afterwards, because -I had already received the changes so ungraciously, instead of realising -that I should have been enchanted with the forethought and goodness -which had prepared all this for me. - -Remembering my own reception of a similar surprise, therefore advise -that the daughter should be consulted in every way about the room she is -to inhabit, unless, of course, she has no tastes of her own, and does -not care what the room looks like so long as she has it to herself; then -the room can be made as pretty as the mother likes. But there are few -girls nowadays who do not care for their rooms, and are not as eager as -anyone else to make themselves a pretty nest that they may regard as -their own, and not as a perch on which they rest on sufferance until -they are pushed out by the on-coming juniors into the arms of the first -man who appears in the least degree anxious to have her for a wife. - -I do hope that, whatever else happens, the daughters of the household -may never be sent away to schools, or urged at a high school to overwork -their brains and go in for those wretched competitive examinations. I am -no advocate for the higher education of women, for votes for women, for -anything which shall take them out of the sheltered home atmosphere, -where women alone can breathe comfortably and live properly, and force -them into the arena of life; and I do hope mothers who may read this -book will consider what they are doing when they force their girls -forward, and delight in the hard work and successful examinations which -ruin their constitutions, and make them irritable and nervous and old -before their time. I know only too well that there are women who are -compelled to work, but I shall always maintain this should not be; and, -to return once more to the subject with which I began my chapter, I -state boldly that neither would they be were the families of English -people smaller, and were we less extravagant, less determined to snatch -all we can from life, doing absolutely nothing for ourselves that we can -get someone else to do for us. Why, I know myself one family of five or -six daughters who, if their father died to-morrow, would not have 50_l._ -a year, yet who go out night after night to balls, who take cabs at -every moment, never saving a shilling, who are waited upon by half a -dozen servants, and yet who ought to do the housework themselves, who -ought to be content with a quarter of the gaiety they insist upon. The -poor silly things even went to Court, though, Heaven knows, the Queen -would have sent them back again had she known what their dresses -cost--a price, moreover, that would never be paid--and who finally -would have far more chance of happy marriage than they have now, when -every man they know looks askance at their garments, and then at their -father’s worried face, and avoids them, justly declining to put -themselves in the noose which is round his neck, and which will surely -kill him, even if he can keep his head above water for much longer. This -case is the case of hundreds of families at present, and therefore I -feel I cannot say too much about it, and I do hope mothers will -therefore think a little more about their daughters, and endeavour to -restore a little of the quiet and simplicity which are almost extinct in -this rushing era of ours, and which can never be found among those who -are cast out from the shelter of home and forced into competition--a -competition that is as odious as it is unnecessary in most girls’ lives, -and that would be altogether unnecessary were there fewer girls in the -world, and were we content to spend one quarter of the money we do on -all sorts of nonsense and on extra servants, who only make our daughters -lazy and luxurious when they ought undoubtedly to be up and doing. - -The moment a girl leaves the control of the schoolroom and the watchful -eye of the governess she should be told that, though now she is to some -extent her own mistress, she must not consider her education finished, -but rather that the real part of education is just beginning, and that -it is absolutely necessary that every day should begin with some steady -work; and it is also well that some definite rule should be made on this -subject: certain small household duties should be given to her, and -certain studies should be continued, leaving it to her to select in some -measure what those studies shall be. - -Now in the richest households there are many things which should never -be left to servants if one wishes the house to look like the abode of a -lady, and not of a _nouveau riche_ one, the principal one in my eyes -being the arrangement of the flowers. The best gardener in the world has -only a gardener’s ideas, and cannot know what to bring in and how to -place what he brings in in an absolutely satisfactory way, and, as dead -flowers and fading plants are disgraceful and worse than an utter -absence of floral decoration, the first duty a girl should undertake is -that of going round the rooms the moment breakfast is over, to decide -which plants are to be removed and which vases should be refilled. In -the country the gardener should wait her orders, and have the flowers -gathered dry and before the heat of the sun is on them, and should -himself exchange the plants, the position of them being determined by -his mistress, as the arrangement of the flowers should be left to her -alone. If done systematically in the manner here indicated, all the -house will look fresh and nice, and there would be no chance of -overwork. - -To arrange the flowers an old dress should be worn, also a large apron -and sleeves should be donned. Despite the fact that the gardener should -bring in the flowers, there is always something extra to gather at the -last moment, and one rushes out, gets one’s skirts covered with damp -mould and dew from the grass, or shakes down a quart or so of water from -the trees all over one, and a dress is spoiled in a moment--a serious -matter at all times, but something more than serious when one has -forestalled one’s allowance, and can’t afford another garment anyhow. - -The arrangement of the flowers in most houses nowadays would occupy at -least an hour, after which the girl should sit down for a steady read at -some standard work carefully chosen for her, or else to any sewing work -she may care for; then she should take up her hobby--and I trust she may -have one for her own sake--and she should either practise, paint or -write, or do anything she likes (save read novels) until the hour before -luncheon, when she _must_ go out. If she be wise she will continue her -regular walk with the schoolroom party; if not, she must be sent out to -see her friends, do ‘errands’ about the village or town, or else arrange -for a game at tennis--anything to ensure some exercise. The girls of the -present day don’t care for walks for walking’s sake, but they must have -open-air exercise somehow, whether they care for it or not. - -In London, I maintain, any girl who knows how to behave, and who is told -plainly how to conduct herself, can safely go about the streets alone -from the day she is eighteen. I have done so ever since I can remember, -and though I do not consider myself lovely, I certainly was nice-looking -(please, I am not conceited), and I never met with any adventure of the -very smallest kind; and given a straightforward walk, an air of having -something to do and doing it, no peeping into shop-windows, for example, -and not a suspicion of loitering anywhere, I maintain any ordinary girl -can go about alone perfectly, should it be inconvenient to send someone -with her, or should she have no girl friend or sister with whom to walk; -anyhow, London is much safer than the country, with its crawling tramps -and its suspicious cows at every corner, to say nothing of mad bulls and -dogs and all kinds of perilous adventures. - -The morning walk disposed of, after luncheon then could come any -pleasures. There are sure to be calls to be made, tennis to go to, -afternoon parties, concerts, and all kinds of small dissipations; then -would come dinner, after which, if there were no going out, amusing -books could be allowed, and, in fact, any amusement that she -particularly cares for should now be indulged in. The evenings should be -entirely her own; and if she has any hobbies, and wishes to continue the -morning’s work, let her do so. You will very likely be as glad to be -left alone for a little with your husband as she is anxious to return to -her own quarters and resume the special employments on which she was -engaged. - -I am now writing about those lucky girls who have an assured future of -some kind, who, though they may not be rich should their father die, -will not have to join in the fearful battle for bread, and who should -represent the sex universally had I my way; and, therefore, I do not -dwell on the necessity for toil that would be inevitable were the girls’ -parents aware of the sword hanging over their heads. In this case the -girls should know the truth, and should themselves elect whether they -should prepare armour against the fray, or hang about, hoping against -hope that they may be married before the evil days that must come fall -upon the household. But girls who are pretty well off, and who, as I -said before, cannot starve if their parents die, should still endeavour -to find some real occupation for themselves; they may never want to make -much money by it, but they should always be able to save money by it; -and if they cannot do anything definite, or that will be likely to be -heard of in the world, they should cultivate their fingers, and should -learn to embroider and sew, in order that their room at first, and their -houses afterwards, should be made beautiful by them, and should show -evidences of their industry, and the excellent uses they have made of -their time. - -Make the girls’ room pretty, and the girls will like to sit there and -spend their time carefully within the charming walls; but do not for one -moment tolerate laziness, lounging, or novel-reading; and as long as the -girls are at home, see that the mornings, at all events, are properly -employed. The results of the day should be seen, should be inspected, -and the masters or mistresses, who should still attend to continue some -lessons (German, music, and painting being the best, I think), should be -interviewed now and again about the progress of the pupil; and a -watchful but not inquisitorial eye should be kept on all that goes on in -the room, else we shall find it turned into a rubbish-place, or a spot -where all is play and nothing useful is ever done. - -Lessons in dressmaking and in cooking should be given, if possible, to -every girl; and she should also at the earliest age possible be taught -to knit socks and stockings, and, above all, she should, in the very -fullest sense of the word, learn her duty to her neighbours, and be -taught that her superior advantages both of time and money should be -tithed for those whose lives lack so much, and could be made so very -much brighter were we all to do our duty by them. I am not an advocate -for slumming; I do not consider any girl should have a district, and, -unless in the country, Sunday-school teaching is not always to be -attempted; but some part of the day should be set aside, either for -working for the poor--amply represented to me by the Sisters at the -Kilburn Orphanage--or in making some life brighter. In the country it is -easy to collect flowers for hospitals, or to ask dwellers in courts to -tea in the garden in London, to make things which will be useful, and to -take girls and boys occasionally to some museum or picture gallery, just -for an hour’s change from the crowded streets. - -I think girls should always do one thing during the day, as a matter of -custom, for the poor; but whatever is done should be done under some -direction. Young folks are enthusiastic and hurried, and often do more -harm than good by indiscriminate charity. But then the clergyman of the -parish can sometimes be consulted, and when he cannot, I say, Send to -Kilburn, to the Orphanage in Randolph Gardens. There, without -consideration of creed, with large and vigorous minds and hearts, all -are helped; and all work can be used, all help received, with the -perfect assurance that what we send there will emphatically reach those -for whom it is meant, and that there are no highly paid secretaries to -come before the poor and suffering. - -These are all large matters to be discussed in this book, but I cannot -think they are out of place. I am thankful to say that far more people -trouble themselves now about their poorer neighbours than in bygone -days; that rich men realise that they are only stewards of their -property, and that they should administer their goods for the poor as -well as for themselves; that while the owner of a large park and -magnificent pictures is not bound to cut up the former for -allotment-grounds, or distribute the latter among the denizens of -Whitechapel, he is bound to allow them to see both, under proper -control, whenever he is called upon to do so; that garden-parties for -the poor are far more necessary than garden-parties for the rich; and -that all who regard life rightfully and have had a large share of life’s -best things are bound, by their duty to God and their neighbour, to -administer them in some measure for the poor, who will gradually become -more fit to share them as we show them our possessions and teach them -how to regard them properly. Under these circumstances there is great -hope that our girls may advance farther than we have done, and, being -most carefully trained from their earliest days to remember God’s poor, -may do so as a matter of course, and may consider that day wasted indeed -which cannot show at least one thing done to alleviate some of the -misery and poverty there is in this overcrowded world of ours. - -The weaker sex indeed! We may be weak physically--we are, we allow that; -we allow that our impulsiveness, our weakness, our very structure, -forbids us battling with the men, shoulder to shoulder, in that dreadful -scrimmage for life in which some women would cast us all; and all we beg -is to be allowed to confess that, and have some shelter provided for us, -where we can do our part of the world’s work--our part, that a weak mind -cannot undertake, but that is essentially the woman’s part--the part of -beautifier of the home and administrator of the finances, and, through -the home, of the outside world, too, where we see all men as our -brothers and sisters, and where we recognise our place as helpers (not -rivals), of consolers (not competitors) of the men, who should do the -sheltering and home-providing that no woman, except under most -exceptional circumstances, can possibly manage by herself alone. - -Therefore, if all who have girls remember this, and instil in their -hearts the fact that we want them at home, that even if they should not -marry or become senior wranglers, or anything else equally prominent and -unpleasant, their lives can be busy and useful and fully occupied, and -of infinite use in their generation, we shall do something for the world -at large even if we let all this grow only out of the innocent -preparation of the girls’ room when they have reached the end of the -first stage of their life, and become in some measure mistresses of -themselves. But, for fear I may be considered too solemn and serious, -and for fear that my readers may think I am adverse to gaiety, and would -not let girls enjoy themselves under any circumstances whatever, I will -finish this chapter, and pass on to consider far more frivolous -things--namely, how to manage one’s dress allowance, and, furthermore, -how best to arrange for any festivities we may be able to afford when we -have maidens in the household who are anxious to ‘come out.’ - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -COMING-OUT AND DRESS. - - -I always regard the expression ‘coming-out’ as rather a ridiculous one, -when used by the ordinary upper middle-class household; yet, as it has -become a recognised part of our vocabulary, I suppose we must all adopt -it when we talk of that enchanting period of a girl’s life which occurs -when she is about eighteen, and is in some measure emancipated from the -control and ever-watchful care which have been her portion from the day -she was born until the joyful moment arrives when the books may be -closed and the schoolroom-door shut, and she takes her place among her -elders as a right, and not on sufferance any more. - -Here I should like to pause for a moment to impress upon all mothers -who may read my book that a girl should remain absolutely in the -schoolroom until she reaches her eighteenth birthday; the longer she can -be kept from the turmoil of life, from the shams and wearinesses of -ordinary society, and from any temptations to shirk her education, the -better. She will not be pleased with her mother at the time; she will -think regretfully and, may be, angrily of those of her less guarded, -more ‘fortunate’ (?) friends, who are ‘all over the place’ at seventeen, -who never read an instructive book or think of anything save dress, -admirers, and what dissipation is in store for them next; but when she -looks back at her girlhood from the altitude of that calm, sheltered -middle-age I wish for all girls for whom I care, she will see what she -has to thank her mother for, and all the disagreeable feelings she had -then towards her will be atoned for a thousandfold in the flood of -grateful affection which will fill her heart, and in the love which she -will entertain for one who trained her so carefully, and who cared for -no present lack of affection, because she knew quite well she would -infallibly and at no very late date reap her reward. - -The years from sixteen to eighteen are undoubtedly the years during -which a girl learns most, and in a properly guarded household she would -then comprehend more fully than at any other time how necessary it is to -use every moment for the best. She would form habits of study, -regularity, and appreciation of what is best in art and literature which -she would never lose, and which would only develop as years went on; and -she would, furthermore, lay in a stock of health, on which she could -draw at will when the real stress of living begins, and she finds -herself in her turn with a heavy burden of real work on her shoulders, -and has a house to manage, a husband to please, and children to bring -forth and care for unceasingly. - -And this latter is the strongest argument I can use against girls being -‘brought out’ too young; if they are they may marry. I knew one parent -criminal enough to allow a child of sixteen to take upon herself this -burden; and should they marry and have children they entail on -themselves and on unborn generations misery compared with which a life -spent always in the schoolroom would be a life of Elysian and purest -delight. - -The first thing to consider with our girls is their health: let that -stand before every single thing; dress them as little mites carefully -and warmly; as young girls insist on warm clothing and perpetually dry -feet and skirts; never allow a game of tennis on a damp lawn to pass by -without seeing that no damage is done thereby; and then, furthermore, -insist on early bed until the lesson-time is over; allow no dances of -any kind, forbid entirely the children’s parties, which are at the root -of half the epidemics, the affectations and the bad manners of the -present day; while you take care that pleasant companionship, treats in -the shape of afternoon concerts or plays, or tennis-parties with -children their own age, these give the necessary relaxation, and you can -face the ‘coming-out’ gaieties with a light heart, knowing quite well -that your daughter has the necessary physique to stand the strain, and -that she has arrived at a common-sense age, and will be able to know -when she has had enough pleasure, the while she will care herself for -something beside balls and parties, albeit she will in no measure -despise a proper allowance of both. - -I am no Puritan; I do not object to dancing or theatres, or any other -amusement, but I do plead for moderation in all things, and that a girl -may have time for something beside mere play. I ask it not only because -their mental health must suffer, but because their physique cannot -possibly stand that present strain and yet remain intact ready to bear -the yet greater strain to which most women are exposed during their -married life. I know only too well what an uncontrolled girlhood and -unending gaieties did for me, and I am only again writing out of my own -experience in the hope that I may save some few girls from the misery in -store for them if they begin their fashionable life before they are -eighteen and if, when they begin it, they have no moderation about it, -and go from ball to ball, party to party, until their faces become thin -and wretched, their bloom goes, their tempers and noses sharpen -together, and they are unstrung and miserable just at the time when life -demands most from them, and they ought to be as well and happy as they -are miserable, nervous, and broken in spirits and in health. - -I actually have known one mother introduce her daughter at seventeen -because the next daughter was far prettier, and she wished to give No. -1 ‘a chance’ before No. 2 appeared on the scene. Can anything be more -ignoble than that? And it is to save both mothers and daughters from a -similar fate to that which will overtake this couple that I am pleading -for the girls; that, in fact, they may be saved from themselves by the -prompt action of those who ought to be the first to shield their -children from a too early contact with the world. - -I should myself keep a girl to regular hours until she was eighteen, but -even after that, as I have shown in my last chapter, she should have -employment and occupation. Until she was eighteen she should never be in -bed later than 9.30, and she should always be down at 8.30, while she -ought never to be allowed to go to any large dance before then. Small -ones, ending at 11, should be very sparsely attended, and those not at -all until she was past seventeen. When the auspicious date of her -eighteenth birthday draws near, a great effort should be made to -celebrate it properly. On that date a girl comes into her kingdom, -accepts at your hands the sceptre of self-rule and the crown of an -educated and well-guarded girlhood, and certainly some special notice -should be taken of such an occasion. - -Not, please, by her being presented at Court; the present-day rush of -the wives of wine merchants, successful upholsterers, and tradesmen of -all kinds has made what was once a stately and beautiful ceremony a -mockery indeed. Of course girls whose parents are about the Court, who -have long pedigrees and ancient titles, are bound to be introduced to -the Head of Society and to take their places round the throne; but just -think for a moment what it means to the ordinary middle-class family, -the frightful expense, the worry and strain of the presentation, the -fatigue and showing off at the ‘Drawing Room teas’ afterwards, and, -finally, the dead and unpleasant certainty that they will never be asked -to one Court function, that they are no nearer being the bosom friend of -the princesses than they were before, and that their social status has -not been improved in the least; indeed, it has gone down, for old -friends sneer at the foolishness and scoff when they see the name in the -paper, remembering with redoubled force the counters of the wine -merchant and shopkeeper, which would have been entirely forgotten had -not the ‘fierce light which beats upon the throne’ been reflected on -those who approach it and shown up the flaws in the pedigree which were -on the way to oblivion, but which give ample scope for scoffing from the -very lips which are drinking the tea at the ‘reception’ after the -Drawing Room, where all are wondering what the dresses cost, and whether -Jones or Smith, as the case may be, will last over the season, or -whether he will marry off his daughters before the crash comes and all -go under together! - -Remember, I am not scoffing at trade; it would ill become me to do so; -but I am simply asking my readers to be sensible and to be frankly and -absolutely themselves. Personally I would far rather pin my rights to -being a lady on the fact that art and literature have been my sponsors -than on being the great-great-granddaughter of a king’s mistress or a -ruffianly robber of other men’s goods; but that has nothing to do with -the subject. A waiter on courts should have business at those courts; -therefore I say that those who cannot consider themselves owing the -Queen a call, and the courtesy of showing her their girls as they grow -up to take their places, either as friends or servants, have any right -to go there, and that they had much better stay at home and not make -themselves ridiculous by an attempt to be and seem what they can never -really be. - -Let us suppose that our eloquence has prevailed, and that the girl has -reached her eighteenth birthday, and there is no talk of her being -presented, or any such nonsense; but still something must be done to -celebrate the auspicious event. If the birthday is in autumn or winter, -or very early spring, there is no reason why a dance should not be -indulged in, more especially if it can be afforded, or if there is room -for such dissipation. These two things are, of course, to be considered -before anything else. - -A ball can cost any sum anyone likes to spend on it; all depends on the -purse and the ideas. If we engage a good hall and band, go in for a -regular and first-rate supper, any amount of flowers, and so on, I -tremble to think what the bills may come to; but all can be ascertained -by writing to the different places where such things are to be found. -Gunter will give an estimate per head for the supper; the Prince’s Hall -secretary will tell you the charges per night; Mrs. Green, of Crawford -Street, W., will tell you what her fee for decorating the room would be; -and Mitchell, of Bond Street, would provide the band. But people who can -afford to arrange matters _en grand seigneur_ are not likely to come to -me for advice; if they did, I should only hand them over to the -above-named authorities. Still, if these lucky folk should come across -my book, this will tell them what to do. But ordinary folk can give a -very enjoyable dance for a little over 50_l._ to about 125 people, -making the hours from eight to twelve, and having a stand-up supper at -about 5_s._ a head, ending up with soup just before the guests start for -home; and I fancy that, if one had a sufficiently large house, and could -manage the supper oneself, it could be done for very much less, -particularly if one has a stand-up supper, which is really all that can -be required when people have dined late, and only want something to -carry them over the later hours and the extra amount of fatigue. - -To make such a dance a success, the floor must be perfect, a band of -from three to five performers engaged, and people must be thoroughly -well introduced to each other, and, if possible, no girl must be seen -sitting out without a valiant struggle on the part of the hostess to -prevent such a sad occurrence by finding her a partner. I cannot -countenance or believe in dances, or, in fact, any social gathering, -where there are no introductions; it is simply an excuse for laziness on -the part of the hostess, which all too often condemns her guests to a -great deal of misery and dulness. Of course the theory is a perfectly -correct one; the practice, however, cannot, in my opinion, be too -heartily condemned. There will always be _débutantes_ and shy girls who -know very few people, and these cannot possibly dance unless we see they -know men to dance with. - -Is there any misery like the misery of a girl who is dying to dance, who -loves the exercise for its own sake, and who has to sit out on a bench, -her feet impatiently tapping the floor, and her little heart ready to -break with disappointment, while she sees married women, who ought to -know better, and who ought never to dance at all as long as a girl is -sitting out, prancing all about the place and caring nothing for the -poor young things whose day it is? As long as they enjoy themselves, -that is quite enough for them. - -The watchful hostess will have none of these engaging little ways at her -dances: the girls are provided for first, the matrons after; and as this -would be impossible were introductions done away with, I would impress -upon my readers to cling to this old fashion, and to see that the girls -enjoy themselves, no matter who else do not. Except as chaperons married -women are out of place in the ballroom, and should not be encouraged to -come there; if they do their duty by their homes, their husbands, and -their children, they could have neither time nor inclination for such a -pursuit. - -When my own daughter ‘came out’ the other day, we had about 125 people -to a dance in Watford, and it cost us just under 50_l._ Because our -house was too small to have any festivity in, we had to engage rooms, -which cost about 5_l._; the supper cost about 25_l._, at 5_s._ a head, -including soup, aërated waters, and waiters, and a certain amount of -decoration for the approach, anterooms, &c. We had plenty of moss, -plants, &c., which our own gardener arranged. The local band of three -performers cost 3_l._ 3_s._, and the rest went for wine, programmes, and -odds and ends generally. The dance was certainly most successful, and -went off very well, and was quite as much as we could afford. Naturally -I should have preferred much grander doings--a first-rate supper, the -‘Blue Hungarian’ band, or any other excellent one; but it would have -been foolish to refuse to entertain at all because we could not manage -these gorgeous details--details that were as much above our means as -they would have been quite unnecessary in Watford. - -But the dance was successful, because the girls were pretty and the men -pleasant, because old friends came down and rallied round us, and -because we all saw the girls did not sit down once, that there was no -flagging, and that all who could be introduced were made to know each -other. I dare say there were plenty of people who wondered they did not -have a gorgeous supper, but I do not care if they did, and I certainly -am never going to precipitate myself head first into the Bankruptcy -Court because someone else gives what, no doubt, they can well afford -to do, but which I could not, and which, were I to do, I should soon -come utterly to an end. - -I mention all these personal details to show that what we did can be -done by other people, certainly by people who have a big house and -plenty of servants, at a moderate cost, and I hope I shall not have -become a ‘mock of many’ because of all I have said; but as I always -think personal experience frankly given is worth any amount of polite -theory, I give my experience here as elsewhere, hoping that it may be of -use to many beside myself. - -If the damsel is born in the summer, I strongly advise a tennis-or -garden-party, though, alas! in this climate we are so dependent upon the -weather that I mention this with a certain amount of diffidence; but -given one of the lovely June days Nature sometimes kindly dowers us -with, and can anything on earth be pleasanter than one of these -al-fresco gatherings may be if properly managed? - -The garden is looking its best, and, if the seats are judiciously -arranged and a proper amount of amusement legislated for, the hostess -can greet her friends with a light heart; she can be quite sure of a -successful party without too much trouble or expense on her part. - -The refreshments should be either in a tent on the lawn or else in any -room that may open out into the garden. Should there be no such room, I -strongly advise the tent to be procured (one can always be borrowed at a -most reasonable expense), as, if the refreshments are not easily -accessible, the party becomes scattered: the timid do not like to -separate themselves and go in search of sustenance, while the greedy can -seclude themselves and snatch an undue share of the good things prepared -for the entire company. - -Given the tent, or the room, and we can proceed to place very long and -narrow tables there, which we should decorate with as many flowers as we -possibly can get together, and should we have very many Londoners coming -to our gathering we should put a host of the little baskets Whiteley -sells for about 4½_d._ a set under the tables, and fill them at parting -with what we garnished the tables with. Roses and lilies and greenery -are not to be despised in London, and our friends will come down to us -cheerfully another year if they carry away a sweetly-scented souvenir -of our last gathering. People don’t mind carrying flowers, and we can -always spare those we have used for garnishing the table. - -Among the flowers we should put large imari bowls of strawberries and -cream ready for ladling out on small dishes; the strawberries should be -denuded of their hulls, and the whipped cream, which can be thickened -with white of egg and made palatable with sugar, should be piled high on -the fruit, which, of course, should be unbroken. If a refrigerator is -handy, the prepared fruit should be kept there until the last moment, -and only produced when the guests have begun to assemble, the places for -the bowls being kept by plates to prevent the symmetry of the table -being spoiled by a careless or hurried maid-servant. - -I strongly advise all the cakes being bought from Buszard, who will, -moreover, tell you honestly the amount of the different kinds you should -have for the number you expect; and, as a rule, you should prepare for a -few more folks than you have down on your list. If a very fine day -people often bring friends with them. I personally like them to do this, -and if you yourself happen to know anyone who possesses little girls, -and who is coming herself, I advise you to ask her to bring the -children. Well-brought-up children are delightful additions to a -garden-party; they look like bright butterflies flitting about, and -should therefore be encouraged to come, not by a written invitation, -which would make them unduly prominent and of consequence in their own -eyes, but by a casual mention, which cannot inflate them, and yet will -show they have been thought about by us. Beside the fruit and cakes, a -little finely cut and rolled brown bread and butter should be prepared, -but only a little; few people eat it; as a rule it spoils their gloves, -and they do not want it, and it is wasted if left, and if the weather is -really summerlike and hot, ices should be provided, and also iced -lemonade, gingerbeer, and claret-cup. No other wine is requisite. And as -wine is frightfully dear, and should never be given unless really good, -I advise it being omitted altogether, unless expense is no object. When -the garden-party can be from 6 to 9.30 the garden could be illuminated -with coloured lamps, and a cold supper succeed the tea. This, of -course, is the ideal garden-party, but one which is out of the reach of -most people who have a great many friends, and want to see them without -an undue and enormous expense. - -The tennis-courts, of course, should be swept and garnished and newly -marked out for the occasion, and several enthusiasts over this (to me, -idiotic) game should be told off to see that all who want to play can do -so. If this is not done, we shall be vexed by seeing this game, which is -so dear to so many, quite left alone; and I defy any hostess to attend -to her guests and keep the tennis-balls rolling at the same time. She -must engage the help of her younger guests, and to them must be left the -everlasting trouble of making up the sets, which seem to me to have only -just begun as they are finished. Now, in the dear departed days of -croquet, a hostess had nothing to do but make up the sets of eight and -set them going. She saw nothing more of her guests, a well-played set of -eight lasting quite as long as the garden-party itself could be expected -to do. - -Anyhow, there must be something beside tennis to amuse our guests, and I -think a band is almost a necessity, particularly if one is blessed with -a decent local band; then the expense will not be ruinous. One can get -an excellent string band from town for about 20_l._ I particularly like -Mrs. Hunt’s ladies’ orchestra (_Les Merveilleuses_), all particulars of -which can be had from the secretary, or from Chappell & Co., New Bond -Street; but sometimes it is as well to encourage local talent if one can -do so without fatal effects, when for 5_l._ you can have a good deal of -music, always a cheerful matter, and can sometimes have very good music -too. But a local band should always be put a good way off, distance, as -a rule, lending an immense amount of enchantment to their productions. - -I think also that some of the charming open-air scenes from Shakespeare -can be given with great effect. I also am very fond of Mendelssohn’s -open-air glees; and some recitations are often amusing. But should these -latter be indulged in, let me beg that the hostess knows beforehand -something about them, else will her fate be what mine was once, when an -enthusiast began a long, long, long poem. I don’t know to this day what -it was, whether it was meant to be pathetic or comic or not, but I do -know my agonies were awful, and that I was rapidly going mad, when an -opportune shower put a stop to the eloquence, which had gone on -unceasingly through the passing of several express trains, all of which -made a hideous noise, and any one of which would have been sufficient to -daunt any other individual. Short, amusing--really amusing--recitations -are always a success, and I should taboo anything tragic or sentimental, -or anything which lasted over ten minutes at the outside. - -Never, however, be persuaded to give a garden-party trusting to tennis -alone. There can be nothing more dreary than such an entertainment; it -is like an at-home, where nothing but talk is provided. I would never -heap on amusements out of doors or have music without stopping in doors, -but I should always provide it in such a way that it serves as a -pleasant reason for the gathering. An in-door at-home with music can -never be a success if the seats are put in rows, and people are forced -to sit stiffly close together; an outdoor one can never pass off well -unless we prepare amusements, and see that our guests are really -entertained and yet not overburdened with our attentions. - -I think a whole chapter might be written on the art of being a hostess; -and yet, perhaps, a few words may suffice. I believe a hostess, like a -poet, is born, not made. Still, a few hints may not be out of place, for -I think sometimes parties are unsuccessful because, though possessed of -the best intentions, the hostess may lack the knowledge that alone can -ensure a successful entertainment. - -In the first place, without emulating two friends of mine, one of whom -took the youngest unmarried girl in the room down to dinner, while the -other, out of pure kindness, let his wife walk in first and then -followed himself, and in consequence was hugely laughed at. I do think -that in ordinary society a great deal of ridiculous fuss is made about -precedence. What can it matter to the wife of some man knighted but the -other day whether she or the wife of the parson goes into or out of the -room first? If it does, she must be so stupid that I should not care to -see her in my house; while to me it does matter immensely whether I have -someone to take me in who knows what is going on in the world and reads -his newspaper and sees every play that comes out. Give me a man like -that, and I don’t in the least care what his father was, neither should -I care one bit whether Jones and Mrs. Smith, and Mr. Smith and Mrs. -Brown, walked in or out of the room before me; they may all go, if they -like, in a string. So long as I have a pleasant companion and a pretty -table to look at, and a well-cooked dinner, I don’t care in the least -how I reach the dining-room. - -See that the people who are likely to get on have an opportunity of -knowing each other; watch that no one is sitting glum and disconsolate -in a corner; remember, if you can, who is anxious to be introduced to or -shown any celebrities in the world of art and letters who may happen to -be present; and, above all, consider everyone’s pleasure before you -think of your own; and in a large gathering never sit down until you are -actually driven to do so through fatigue, and you may be quite sure that -the party will be a success. And send out your invitations, remembering -that the pleasantest people are not always those who can afford to ask -you again, and that your object in entertaining is above all to give -pleasure, to see clever and entertaining, people in your house, and not -to ensure a return as soon as may be for what you are doing. I do not -care if people are the highest in the land if they are dull; I would far -rather meet and know people who are clever and interesting than the most -exalted member of the peerage I could number among my acquaintances if -she were stupid and uninteresting, and had nothing to recommend her but -her coronet and her connection with what Jeames de la Pluche calls the -‘hupper suckles.’ - -I think that I have now given some idea how to ensure success at the two -kinds of parties which might be used as means of introducing a daughter -to the world at large; but, of course, there are a great many other -gatherings which may be indulged in, and, above all, let us learn always -to be ready to give a welcome to any of the children’s friends. Should -we discover that they are not nice we can easily speak about it, and -tell our reasons for not receiving them; but well-brought-up young -people will only make nice friends, and we must invariably be ready to -give them a cheerful welcome. We can always be glad to see them after -dinner, or to afternoon tea. This cannot ruin us, and when possible we -should let them stay in the house and encourage them all we can. At the -same time the rules of the house must be kept; the hours for meals and -the general habits of the elders respected; and we must not be expected -to help in the entertaining--that must be left entirely to the younger -members of the household, whose friends they are. - -Perhaps one of the greatest problems, after we have settled on our -manner of entertainment, is to determine how the girls shall dress and -in what manner they shall manage their dress allowance. This should be -made to them and paid punctually from their eighteenth birthday, but it -should never be made without starting a girl with a good and sufficient -wardrobe, with a miniature trousseau in fact; if this is not done, -unless, of course, the allowance is a very handsome one, the girl will -get hopelessly into debt, and will never be free from that millstone all -her life. - -Dress is, unfortunately, so frightfully expensive nowadays that the -problem of how to dress at all, always a serious one, has assumed -gigantic proportions of late years. We went out immensely in our youth, -and had 50_l._ a year allowed us, which we just scraped through on, -although I remember how anxiously I watched the sleeves of one special -grenadine dress, which I could not have afforded to replace anyhow, and -which would wear out in the most agonising way, and which was one mass -of darns before I could get another, and I have never forgotten the -anxiety it gave me, to say nothing of under-garments, which really -seemed to vanish perceptibly, bit by bit, after each visit to the -laundress; but nowadays girls cannot go out very much and appear well -dressed on double that sum. Even with 100_l._ a year there would have to -be cutting and contriving, and a good sewing-maid would be an imperative -necessity should there be really very many balls every year and -afternoon and evening dresses to be seen after besides. - -Of course, if not more than 50_l._ can be spared to each girl, the -attendance at balls must be limited, and a great deal of sewing must be -done by the damsel herself. But I never recommend anyone to go to a -cheap or common dressmaker; if she does, her garments will never look -nice, and she will spend three times as much as she need on renovations -and alterations, while she will run every imaginable risk of having her -stuff spoiled and the dress made so badly that she cannot wear it. - -Supposing the girl is to begin with her allowance of 50_l._, her -trousseau should consist of a dozen of each under-garments necessary; -she should have six pairs of silk, six of fine cashmere, and six of -warmer cashmere hose; she should have four white skirts, a silk -underskirt, and a quilted poplin skirt; she should have two morning -dresses, one a good tailor-made one with a jacket to match, the other -cashmere; she should have two best dresses, one for every evening, one -for dances, and two for balls; and she should have a sealskin coat, a -waterproof, and a jacket, and about three hats; she should have four -pairs of boots and four pairs of shoes; and she should remember that the -longer these are kept in stock before they are worn the better, and one -pair of shoes should never be taken into regular wear without another -being purchased to take its place. Cheap shoes and boots should never be -bought under any pretext whatever; they wear out at once, are a hideous -shape always, and are dangerously thin, things which should prevent -their being in any girl’s wardrobe. - -I am often struck, particularly in crowds or in large gatherings, at the -perfectly frightful clothes most English women wear, and I have come to -the conclusion that this fact is caused by the extraordinary fondness -they seem to have for any kind of black mantle or jacket on which they -can lay their hands, and by a habit they have of crowning their heads -with any sort of hat or bonnet that may be in the fashion at the moment, -no matter whether it suits them or not, or whether they have anything -else in their possession with which it can be worn. - -The tan jackets which have been so fashionable lately have in some -measure emancipated the girls from the tyranny of the black cape; but I -do wish all who dress at all would do so much more sensibly than they do -now, and would never buy a single thing without carefully reviewing -their wardrobe first, and then purchasing the addition equally -carefully, not because it is ‘lovely’ or the ‘height of the fashion,’ -but because it suits the wearer, and above all suits what she already -possesses. She must never enter a shop without knowing first of all what -she really does require, and she must never allow herself to be talked -out of her own preconceived ideas; if she does she is sure to find -herself saddled with some utterly unwearable garment, and which, -moreover, matches nothing she already has in her possession. A girl -should be carefully taught what is likely to suit her, and she should, -moreover, be carefully instructed how to manage her wardrobe so that her -things may be in some measure _en suite_. For example, should she -possess a sealskin jacket, which she should if in any way possible--a -capital little coat costs about 12_l._ to 15_l._, and wears ten winters -comfortably, and can be used afterwards as linings--her winter morning -dress might be some soft brown cashmere; she could vary this by having -two or three soft silk handkerchiefs as waistcoats in the pretty -prevailing fashion of the day, and could have a dark brown, a deep -yellow, or a pale pink one. This dress would look well with the -sealskin, or with a tan jacket should the weather be too warm for the -former, and the hat should be brown or else dark blue with brown -feathers in; this would allow of the second dress being powder or -gendarme blue; this could be trimmed with bands of sealskin or soft -brown silk, and here would be every-day garments to don in October and -wear off and on until the first few warm days in May turn our thoughts -to new and lighter clothes. A best hat should always be in stock; but -this must harmonise with what she already has in the way of dresses. -These must be good; the two will then, with the help of a judicious -maid, come out again in the following autumn as very good every-day -dresses and dresses for wet Sundays, and all that will be required is an -afternoon party dress, which can also be worn on fine Sundays to church -and for afternoon wear, should Sunday callers be allowed and encouraged -in the manner I trust they are. - -Summer dresses are where the strain comes on our resources, and where -the clever maid comes in so well. One can buy a print costume unmade for -about 18_s._ 6_d._, but made up in London it costs about 3_l._ 10_s._ to -4_l._; I have never seen a decently made one under this price. The maid -should suffice for these costumes, the simple banded Norfolk bodice -being easily managed, as can some of the looser bodices; and great care -should be taken to purchase about three yards more of the print than is -absolutely needed. Print dresses in our wretched climate generally last -two seasons, and, as they generally shrink in the wash, it is wise to -provide ourselves with material for new sleeves or new fronts; it can be -washed before being used to ensure that no appearance of patching is -given by the new unfaded material being placed against that which must -have faded a little during the last wear. We have discovered in Stafford -(rather ‘a far cry,’ as the Scots would say) a capital dressmaker who, -for absolutely reasonable prices, makes charming print dresses for -45_s._ and excellent material dresses for girls for about 75_s._ I know -these wear because we have tried them often and often, and, indeed, my -daughter gets all her morning dresses there. I shall not publish her -name, because I do not want her to be inundated with work or raise her -prices, but if she can manage to do this--and naturally it must pay her -to do so--why can’t London dressmakers do the same? I pause for a reply, -and in the meantime meditate ruefully on the different prices I have to -pay for my garments to those charged by the Stafford dressmaker. - -I have always believed that ladies properly instructed in this art of -dressmaking, and banded together, could make a comfortable living out of -providing the garments of their fortunate sisters who had not to work. -They would not make their fortunes, but they should do well if they do -not pitchfork themselves into the place because every other work they -have tried has failed, but take it because they have had an excellent -training and are really tasteful and capable of advising about, as well -as making, the clothes, which are such a burden and trouble to most of -us. Of course they would be invaluable to the girls with a limited -allowance; they would know what was worn, what would suit them and their -purses at the same time; and they would keep a staff of humbler sewers -who would renovate the garments it should be their pride and delight to -make the very utmost of; while to those like myself, for example, who -must have suitable and pretty dresses, and have not sufficient time to -obtain this desirable end without immense expense, they would be simply -invaluable, and we should be spared making the mistakes we are -constantly making, the while we should be sure that our advancing years -should receive due notice at their skilful hands, and that we should be -suitably as well as becomingly dressed, and that at a not undue expense. - -I should be very grateful to anyone who would start such an -establishment; she could charge for her advice plus the dress, as I -charge for my advice about furniture and household management, and I am -quite sure her establishment would soon be the centre of an admiring -throng of girl disciples, to say nothing of the elder women, who would -be thankful to be taken in hand, to be prevented from buying unbecoming -garments, or things which have nothing in common with the rest of their -possessions, and who could shop there in peace, knowing they would have -kindly counsel, instead of being assured lyingly by the saleswoman that -a perfectly unsuitable bonnet is the most becoming thing she has ever -seen, and that an ugly black mantle is so handsome that, given this, it -will act as charity and cover a multitude of sins in the shape of a -shabby dress; the real truth being that the gorgeous mantle only -accentuates the shabbiness, and, by adding another to the rank of the -black mantle wearers, gives another evidence of the fact that, as a -rule, Englishwomen in the street are the worst-dressed women in the -world. - -To really dress well costs an immense amount of money, for to ensure -correct and pleasing dress it is absolutely necessary that all things -shall match in some measure--mantle, dress, bonnet, and hose must be _en -suite_; but if we cannot afford to go in for this we should restrict -ourselves to one or two colours at the outside, we should never buy -anything which is at the height of fashion, and, above all, we should -wear our clothes carefully, and we should not disdain to see they are -put away in an absolutely spotless condition, with each atom of dust and -dirt removed, every small necessary mending done, and with soft paper -between the folds. Unless we have this religiously seen to the -handsomest dress soon becomes draggle-tailed and shabby, while a cheap -or inferior material wears three times as long as it otherwise would do -if we see it is treated properly. - -But cheap or flimsy materials should never, under any circumstances, be -bought, unless the girls can make them up themselves, to wear at home -evenings or during the summer, or unless the sewing-maid can do them; -the making and trimming cost three times as much as the stuff, which -hardly looks nice for three days, while good material pays for good -making and wears until one is really tired of being in the same garment. -When that feeling comes to us we should lay the dress aside for some -months and then take it out again; the rest actually seems to have done -the garment good, and we wear it again with pleasure, instead of -putting it on each morning with renewed dislike and distaste, as we did -before we put it into the wardrobe for the short retirement we advise. - -If matrons over forty-five cannot afford to spend very much on their -garments, I do most strongly advise them to keep to black and very dark -shades of greens and reds; these, however, should be left absolutely -alone should there be any tendency to _embonpoint_, then black must be -_de rigueur_. This seems a little hard, and of course black is to a -certain extent uninteresting wear; but we can console ourselves for the -fate to which all must come by knowing that we are suitably attired, and -that, at all events, we are not making ourselves ridiculous by vying -with our daughters about our clothes. - -Women are the age they look. I know some of the above-named age who do -not look a day more than thirty-five, and they therefore should dress as -they please. But the moment age begins to show let us calmly acknowledge -that our pretty days are over, and garb ourselves accordingly. We need -not be dowdy in these days. Black and dark raiment generally can be made -as nice as possible and quite festive-looking; but we should be suitably -dressed, and, after all, we don’t want either admiration or attention -then from the outside world; we are sure of both at home if we rule -rightly and are queen of the only kingdom that is worth having--the -beautiful kingdom of Home. - -What does anything else matter, if we are still looked upon by our -husbands with as much pleasure and admiration as they gave us in those -never-to-be-forgotten days of courtship, and if our children consider us -nicer, kinder, and wiser than anyone else? To obtain such applause is -worth the whole struggle of living to preserve it--any amount of trouble -which we can possibly take. Therefore, let all costume themselves -suitably--the girl in the prettiest frocks she can possibly afford; the -matron quietly, becomingly, and richly; and, above all, let all consider -carefully the matching that I so strongly advocate, and let the girl who -begins her allowance always keep most correct accounts, showing these -and her paid bills when the next quarter is paid, and let her never be -too proud to ask her mother’s assistance, especially if she cannot see -her way to make both ends meet; but never pass over a debt, and let her -see you notice all she spends. It may seem a little inquisitorial, it -will really save her endless care and worry if you prevent her in any -way you can from getting into a habit of forestalling her income--a -habit that, once formed, is one that hardly anyone ever shakes off in -after life, try how one will. - -The ball-dresses are the garments which try a girl more than anything, -the tulle skirts and pretty flounces, which cost so much, getting so -soon spoiled and messed; and I think the stock of the first season’s -dresses must be helped considerably by the parents, else will the poor -girl feel herself worse dressed than anyone else; and that is a small -misery that should never be allowed if in any measure it can be avoided. -The years from eighteen to twenty-one are undoubtedly the most joyous of -any a woman ever has. They are not always the happiest, taking our -standard of happiness very high, but they are the brightest, sunniest, -and most amusing that the average girl will ever have, more especially -if she have been carefully brought up in a good atmosphere and be not -tormented with those uncomfortable religious doubts and miserable -hankerings after a career and after reforming the world we some of us -had such a severe attack of at that age. I personally would not be -eighteen again for all the wealth of the Indies. Then, I thought it -extremely grand to believe in nothing, to have a gloomy satisfaction in -my superior mind, which soared above the old beliefs, and formed a misty -religion of my own, which meant nothing and led nowhere, and to indulge -in dreadful sarcasms--mentally only (I am thankful to say I did not -often utter them)--on the worldly wisdom of those folks who naturally -wished their daughters to marry well and turned cold shoulders on the -poorest and generally most undeserving of suitors, and I used to stay up -until the small hours of the morning (although I was dreadfully sleepy) -inditing the most awful verses against the rich and titled folks, whom I -naturally thought were fattening on the poor and miserable, and to whom -I intended to go on a species of socialistic crusade; and finally in -writing a big novel, which used to make me feel very much more -intellectual than most of the people I mixed with, and which, after an -evening spent among the brightest and first intellects in the world, I -used to contemplate savagely, having been made to feel very small, -though I would have died rather than confess such a thing--a feeling I -did not mean ever to experience again, once that _magnum opus_ was given -to the world and people really knew me for the genius I was. Alas! that -recognition has never come yet; still, I am very happy without it, and -am always doubly thankful my days of craving for worldwide fame have -vanished, and that I neither want that nor to believe in anything any -more. - -I hope, however, there are not many girls as silly as I was then, and as -I dare say I should have continued to be had I not married--I, who -scorned the idea of the ordinary British matron, and regarded children -and household cares with bitter disgust. And during the twenty years I -have been a wife, I am always struck with wonder when I remember the -imaginative, impulsive thing that was myself so long ago, and try to -trace in my present self the miserable, ambitious cynic I fondly hoped -was some day going to set the world on fire and blossom out as a new -Thackeray or Dickens. Nothing feminine was good enough for me; I meant -to beat the men or do nothing at all. - -Such a girlhood as that may be of infinite service, and was, but it -cannot be called a happy one; still, I think I was the exception, not -the rule, therefore I ask that all who can possibly manage it will see -their girls are happy as long as they are young; to give them their -allowance because they should learn how to spend money, but to add a -dress here and there, an ornament, a new trimming judiciously if in any -way you can afford it, and go without yourself rather than allow a girl -to be shabby or worry herself to death over a wearing-out garment; at -the same time let her learn to do her own repairs and have lessons in -dressmaking; make her happy, but at the same time let her help herself -to the desired end. I hope there may never be too many daughters in the -family for this allowance of 50_l._ to be an impossibility; no girl can -dress really on less. If there are, she _must_ be taught early to make -her own garments, and she must learn, furthermore, that she must spend -far more time and thought over her clothes than is good for her, should -the allowance be much less, and should she be obliged to go out into -society a good deal. As I stated at first, I am not now writing for the -young beginners, but for those whose children are growing up, and who -have made and are making a good income; I therefore trust that what I -have said about dress will be taken only by those for whom it is -intended, the Angelina of ‘From Kitchen to Garret,’ poor dear, having -often enough to do without much that she would have thought -indispensable in the old days. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -CHRISTENINGS AND WEDDINGS. - - -There is a great deal to consider, apart from the mere arrangement of -the ceremonies, about the events of which I mean to speak in this -chapter, therefore no book devoted to the interests of the home could be -complete without at least some words on both subjects. - -To begin with: the old story of the bad fairy told us in our childhood, -who invariably was forgotten, and as invariably turned up without an -invitation at the christening of the prince or princess, is not as -improbable as it appeared to be on the first reading. The bad fairy may -be an infuriated relative to whom we have forgotten to write; it may be -family pride outraged by the name chosen for the infant; or it may take -the form of having asked the wrong instead of the right individual to -stand for the child; but all too often it is there, and the heedless -conduct that raised the evil fairy from her sleep may bring about -consequences that are as unpleasant as they are certainly unexpected and -generally undeserved, for I have often observed that the deepest insults -are those we are most unconscious of giving, and that the evil habit of -‘taking offence’ is often increased by conduct that was as innocent in -design as it was certainly disastrous in the effect. - -And now let us pause for a moment and speak on the subject of taking -offence, a matter that has given rise to endless family divisions and -caused more broken friendships and quarrels than anything else in the -world. To begin with: it is a sign of a common, jealous, vain nature to -take offence; it shows that the offended person is so endued with a -sense of her own importance that she is always on the look-out for an -affront, that she has such a low idea of human nature that she is -suspicious of everything that happens, and is always expecting some slur -is being cast on her, some dreadful plot against her dignity is being -hatched; and she is so vain that she thinks everything that happens is -especially levied at her, though generally she was as far from the -thoughts of the offending person as she well could be. - -A family possessing such a touchy member is indeed much to be pitied; -one can see nothing or very little of any acquaintance possessed of such -a disposition, and indeed no one would wish to see such a one more than -one can help; but a member of the family must be considered in some way; -therefore such an individual is all too often the bad fairy, who, having -once received or fancied she received an insult, never forgets it, harps -on it always, and ends by doing immeasurable harm in more ways than one -by her disagreeable and untutored tongue. And notice I say _she_ and -her. I don’t consider we can learn much from men, but we can certainly -learn larger-mindedness from them; for very seldom do we find a man -taking offence in the childish and touchy fashion far too many women are -so fond of doing. - -As a rule we are all too busy to soften the aspirations of such an -individual, and so we drift apart without any distinct quarrel, -gradually seeing less and less of each other, until we do not meet at -all; but it is generally well, if we possibly can, to go straight to -anyone like this and find out the cause of offence, at the same time -refraining from doing so unless we care very much about it, because, ten -chances to one, the person who takes offence once will always be doing -so, and it is not worth one’s while, as a rule, to conciliate those who -will find a subject for offence in everything one says and does, unless -one is always flattering them, an easily offended person having the most -ravenous appetite for flattery possible to conceive. Therefore, when a -christening has to be thought about, we should first consider if there -be any Scylla to avoid, any Charybdis past which we must navigate the -boat, and, above all, must we endeavour to be quite independent about -the most important subject of all--viz. how to name the child. - -I do not go quite as far as does a friend of mine, who considers the -names he gives his children act on their nature, and that they -insensibly form their characters to in some measure sympathise with -their baptismal names. Thus, for example, it would be as impossible for -John to be naughty as for Jack to be anything save a pickle, for Edith -to be anything save calm and religious, while Trixy must be a flirt and -set all her lovers by the ears. But still I do think a great deal -depends upon the name, especially if the surname happens to be rather -uncommon or pretty, and that the judicious selection of well-sounding -names does wonders. But here we must steer between plain John Brown, who -could never be anyone, try as hard as he might, and the Reginald de -Montmorency Brown, which is the laughing-stock of the neighbours, and -which is a grief to the unfortunate holder thereof through life, unless -the possession of such a name forces him to become as ridiculous as it -is itself; then, of course, he is quite happy, and we need not pity him -at all. - -Another thing I do most earnestly deprecate is the perpetuating of -family names, unless the name happens to be a pretty one and is chosen -for itself. In the first place, family names are generally hideous, and -in the second we cannot name the child after all the members of both -families; to give precedence to the father’s family names will offend -the mother’s family, and generally the unfortunate infant is not only -saddled with a hideous name, but finds itself a bone of contention -almost before it has any bones at all; while, if we boldly select the -names which seem to us euphonious and to harmonise with the surname, we -shall offend no one, and shall show we have an individuality that must -be respected by the members of both families alike. - -Then, too, if families are large and have endless branches, great -confusion is caused by each separate Paterfamilias having one of these -names among his flock. Cousins very often stay in the same house, and -come to visit each other, and if there are ten Miss Elizabeth Smiths and -these happen to be staying together, how are their letters to be -distinguished? The possession of similar initials in families has made -mischief enough; the possession of similar names can make twice as much -again. - -In naming a boy we must think whether he can be made miserable at school -by having either a grand or girlish name, which the young fiends, his -schoolfellows, can turn into something to his disadvantage, and, if -possible, the younger sons should always have some good surname before -the family name; this will enable them to keep distinct. For example, if -the eldest son is called Charles Robinson (not that I should call any -boy such a frightful name), his next brother can be called John Smith -Robinson (supposing his mother’s name to have been Smith), while the -third could be William Brown Robinson, thus marking the distinct -families at once, and allowing the sons of the holders of these names to -have the double name, and perhaps the aristocratic hyphen, satirised by -Corney Grain, which is so dear to the heart of the ordinary suburban -resident, while it is not a bad plan to give the girls their surname as -well as a pretty Christian-name at baptism. This would allow people to -trace pedigrees easily were it a universal custom, and would be of great -assistance in writing the family history we ought one and all of us to -possess, for it is astonishing how much we are helped in our attempt to -bring up our children if we have any knowledge of our forbears, and can -trace in any way the habits and occupations of those from whom we have -sprung. - -Having settled on the child’s name and registered it before we tell our -relations and friends, the impossibility of making a change saving -endless painful and unprofitable discussions, the next thing is to -decide on the god-parents. As a rule this is a mere form, but of course -it should not be so. A god-parent necessarily sends a more or less -handsome present at the time of the christening, comes to the ceremony -if he or she can, and then forgets all about the child. But this, I -repeat, should never be. The god-parents should keep up a friendly -intercourse with their god-children; they should know where they are, -what they are doing; they should most undoubtedly be present at the -confirmation ceremony, and they should always at Christmas either write -to their god-children, send one of those useful and pretty cards, which -I trust will never go out of fashion, or else give some little gift that -does not cost much, while it makes the link between them very real, and -gives some meaning to a position that at present would often be more -honoured in the breach than in the observance. - -Of course it is easy enough to manage this in one’s own rank of life, -and we ought to have as many god-children as we can honestly interest -ourselves in; but we should never undertake the office unless we mean to -perform the duties; and we ought occasionally to ‘stand for’ some of our -poorer neighbours’ children. As a rule they are delighted to have us, -and it gives us a hold over them we could not otherwise acquire; while a -boy or a girl has always a sense of obligation to behave better and do -better in life if he or she has a god-parent in a higher station than -his or her own, to whom they can come for advice and help by right, and -from whom they receive at Christmas, at confirmation, or at any -important step in life, some trifling token. Therefore I do not think -god-parents can think too much of their duties, or neglect to stand for -all they can manage to look after; it is something to do--something that -can also do endless good, if we undertake the duties properly. - -When the god-parents are chosen the christening-day should be fixed, and -this should be the very first day that the mother and child can go out -of doors. The clergyman who performs all the family services should be -asked of course, and the time selected should be about the middle of the -day, and, if possible, the font should be nicely decorated with white -flowers. Of course the correct thing would be to have a public service -with the congregation; the church always looks dismal and horrid when -empty, and, according to the rubric, the service should be public; but I -should never advise this. In the first place, the mother is never quite -strong enough to stand the long service; and, in the second, babies do -howl so that the congregation is made miserable, and, therefore, what is -really an excellent theory is a practice to be avoided. Unless the -christening is postponed, a thing I cannot contemplate for one moment, a -child’s first outing should be to church; there is no doubt whatever in -my own mind about that. - -Take this for granted, and half the misery of a christening disappears; -never allow it to be postponed, and it is done as a matter of course. If -the god-parents selected cannot be present, they must be represented by -proxy; and they should never be waited for, any more than they should be -chosen for any reason save that we are fond of them, that they are -related to us, or such friends that we know they would do the best they -could for us were we to die and leave the children to the mercy of the -world at large--as regards their mental welfare, I don’t mean their -bodily. I repeat here, that no one has the smallest right to bring a -child into the world for whose existence he cannot in some measure duly -provide. - -Without emulating the Roman Catholic habit of confession, I much like to -feel that each family possesses some clergyman among its friends, who -stands to it in some measure in the position that a Romish priest does -to many households. The finer ceremonies of life and death should be -conducted by one man; and it is always a great pleasure to me to feel -that he who married us christened all our children, while it is as great -a regret that he cannot any more perform any more ceremonies for us, for -he has gone where ceremonies are of no avail, and where he has, no -doubt, already received his reward. However, though none can take his -place, we have still a ‘family priest;’ and I think all the simple -ceremonies of our Church are made a thousand times holier by the fact -that one man performs them, and that he takes that individual interest -in us no strange clergyman ever can. Let anyone see a christening in a -town church, hastily performed by a man to whom the infant is nothing -but an unpleasant lump of lace and fussy clothes, or at best one more -little soldier for the great army, and the same ceremony performed by a -man who knows and loves the parents, and I shall need no more words if -this does not express all I mean. Let my readers note the conduct of any -cemetery chaplain reading the burial service, with which custom has made -him hideously familiar, and then hear someone who has known and loved -the dead read it; I am sure, after that, I need not plead for the -election in each family of some good man as family priest. He is a -comfort, indeed, with whom no one can afford to dispense, even in this -hurrying, fashionable life of ours. - -When the church and all is settled, the baby’s dress is undoubtedly a -matter for great consideration. In some families grandmamma produces the -robe the child’s father was christened in, and of course that, and -nothing else, should be worn. Of course, equally, high neck and sleeves -should be added, and a little flannel bodice can be placed with -advantage under the fine open-neck bodice of the robe; white ribbons -should tie up the sleeves and be placed under the waist, and the cloak -should not be either heavy or unduly gorgeous. The hood and cloak must -be removed in the church, and the nurse should do this quickly and -silently the moment the ceremony begins, placing a big, soft shawl round -the child; this allows it to become quiet, and does not ensure the roar -which invariably follows if the child is handed to the clergyman the -moment its clothes are taken off. It should be rolled in the shawl until -the christening service is over, then it can be dressed and shriek if it -likes; no one but the nurse will be disturbed by its howling then. - -Baptism is a sacrament, and therefore there are no fees to be given to -the clergyman, but the father goes into the vestry to give particulars -about the name, &c., for registration in the church books, and he should -then make the clerk some small present--5_s._ would be ample for most -middle-class families, while 1_l._ would be princely. If the clergyman -has come some distance one should take care he was no loser by it, -delicately and nicely, and if one is rich some present should be given -to the church itself to mark the ceremony; there is always something a -church lacks that we can give without ruining ourselves; in fact, all -these simple ceremonies should teach us to love the Church with the -singular attachment even Dissenters have for it, and should make us more -to each other as a congregation than we otherwise would be had we no -religion to bind us together. The christening over, the baby should be -taken, according to a dear old Yorkshire superstition, to be shown to -some friend who will give it bread, salt, sixpence, and a new-laid egg; -and if this superstition be respected, and, moreover, if the infant be -taken up in the world before it is taken down (_i.e._ carried upstairs -before it goes down), my old nurse used to declare that it must be lucky -and could defy any amount of bad fortune. She invariably climbed by a -stool up to a high settee with our children because our house had not a -third story, and much she used to amuse us with these small vagaries; -they were a matter of real moment to her, and we indulged her. Why not? -If they did no good they most certainly could do no earthly harm. - -Now, before we pass on from the christening ceremony to speak of -weddings--a much more enthralling subject--I want to say one word on the -matter of family gatherings. I know quite well I am venturing almost on -forbidden ground, and that such an idea as a family party is beneath -contempt in these days, when we want nothing but amusement, and dislike -running the chance of being bored more than anything else. Still, I am -going to speak about them, and I trust that I may show that they are not -only unobjectionable if properly managed, but that they are absolutely -necessary if we are to keep up anything like a good feeling amongst the -members of one family. - -The reasons why, as a rule, families separate and fall apart are, first -of all, because some go up while others remain stationary, and others -creep slowly down the hill; and, secondly, because there are none of the -small civilities and amenities of life practised among relations that -render society possible and pleasing. If a sister thinks another -sister’s conduct is not just what it ought to be she tells her so, -without considering that she has no more business to take her to task -than she has to call on and scold her next-door neighbour; they frankly -discuss the manner in which the respective children are brought up, and, -indeed, often make themselves so interfering and disagreeable that the -family party ends in tears and in mutual vows against any attempt at the -same thing again. - -Now, as regards the first offence, it is one we ought to be able to bear -with equanimity, especially if we are remaining stationary while others -are flourishing on a plain above our heads. In the first place, the -honour and success of the one member is the property of all, and we can -glory in it too, while, if we are at the top of the tree, no one will -envy us that position if they share it in some measure, and if we take -care that they are not hurt by our assuming airs that are as ridiculous -as they are unkind. A man who forgets and ignores his poor relations is -a snob, and is invariably laughed at by those who know of their -existence; while if he never forgets them, and is good to them always, -he reaps a reward no one can deprive him of in the tender affection, -pride in his attainments, and unselfish delight in his success, which -would be turned to gall and wormwood were he to turn his back on and -ignore those whose flesh and blood he shares, and who must always be his -relations, try how he may to shift them off his shoulders entirely. - -Give this feeling, and I maintain that we can have family parties which -are quite successful, more especially if we remember the second pitfall -and refrain from these hideously spiteful remarks some families seem to -regard in the light of indispensable tonics; and we should always try -that our simple ceremonies of christenings, birthdays, Christmas, and -weddings should include all those of our immediate kin who are near -enough to share them. Let all be asked, let them see you are glad to see -them, and give them your best (not your second best, please), and I am -quite sure the family party will be as successful as any other you may -be induced to give. Of course the party need not be all family; a -judicious admixture of outsiders is always to be recommended, more -especially if we are at the top of the tree and can take this -opportunity of introducing some of our ‘best’ people to those who are -pleased to meet them, although their present means may not allow of -their entertaining them in their own houses in the same manner that we -can. - -These differences cannot be helped, and indeed they should be a source -of pleasure to all, as I said before, and undoubtedly would be were -family feeling cultivated among us in a manner that it certainly is not -in most English homes. Therefore all these ceremonies should be made an -occasion for family parties, and at Christmas time, too, all should meet -who can, at the house of the eldest of the family, should the father and -mother be unable to have their gathering or be dead, as is so often the -case; and there should be regular preparations for enjoyment, a -‘surprise’ (my annual surprise considerably shortens my life), a -Christmas tree, games, and a good supper, all mapped out just as if we -expected the greatest strangers and wished to impress them with our -forms of hospitality. Take rather more pains about the arrangements and -details of a family party than any other; I am quite sure that if you do -you will be amply rewarded. - -And now to think about weddings and marriages, generally a most -enthralling subject to fathers and mothers when the children have grown -up and they begin to contemplate the idea of their leaving the fireside -for homes of their own, when begins, I think, the most difficult period -of our life, and when we cannot be too careful whom we admit to our -houses, the while we must not be unduly fussy, else we spoil our -children’s chance of happiness, and make them miserably anxious for -themselves and their possible fate--a fate I would postpone for ever if -I had my way, for who can calmly contemplate passing on one’s daughter -to another’s care, I wonder? while one’s possible daughters-in-law can -never be anything, I fear, save successful rivals to the throne one -occupies in one’s boys’ hearts. - -But these things will happen, and equally of course all girls should -marry, a happy marriage being the best fate for any woman, no matter how -cultivated, how talented she may be. I have no doubts whatever on that -subject. Suppose she writes; who so fit to battle with the publisher as -the husband? or she paints; well, he can smile on the critics and -undermine them with a good cigar and all the rest of it. Or does she -sing? Surely, surely the husband’s protection comes in there more than -ever; while for those lucky women who only want to fulfil their destiny -and make a home, the husband of course takes his right position at once, -and is guardian, bread-winner, and head in a way that Nature intended -him to be, and that all real women want him to be. The few who clamour -for another arrangement don’t understand the subject at all, and are as -ridiculous as they are abnormal and few in number, and therefore need -not be considered in the least. There is, therefore, no doubt that women -should marry if they can; and if not, well, there is plenty for them to -do, although they will never be as happy--I am sure of that--as the -happily married woman; neither will they ever suffer as an unhappily -married woman must, albeit very many unhappy marriages would have been -far otherwise had people had common sense at first and married each -other as what they were, and not what they supposed each other to be; -resenting their own mistakes on the unfortunate object they had deified, -and not on their own stupid selves, while of course they should be -resolved to make the best of what was inevitable, and to really make the -wife or husband become all they had imagined him or her to be. - -When the discussion on the subject of ‘marriage being a failure’ was -going forward I was only deterred from joining in the fray by the -knowledge that my indignant feelings on this subject were so strong they -rendered me incoherent; but I was glad I did not, for no one could have -driven sense into the heads of a good many of the silly women who wrote -rubbish about their woes. Of course there are unhappy marriages, plenty -of them, made worse, to my mind, a thousand times by our present -disgracefully easy divorce laws; but, trace them to the beginning, and I -venture to state that one and all of these marriages would have been -happy had the parties to them been properly brought up, and, above all, -properly told what marriage really means, not only to themselves, but to -those who may very probably come after them. Not one girl who marries -but knows that the man by whose side she stands at the altar is not only -her lover, but the possible father of her children; and yet what mother -would not consider herself simply dreadful were she to say this to her -daughter when the proposal is made, and her fate is yet in abeyance? and -yet what more important matter could be spoken of? I think none. A girl -who marries a man--an old man--for his money, even from the very highest -possible motives--from the idea, may be, that she is not only ensuring -the safety of her own future but that of many who may be near and dear -to her--is committing not only a crime against herself and her own -future, but is ensuring that the faults, sins, and selfishnesses of the -man she marries are passed on to endless generations; and where such a -marriage is contemplated I maintain that a mother has an imperative duty -before her, and that she must tell her daughter straight out, that the -sufferings she must endure in her own person in daily contact with her -future husband will not be a tithe of what will come upon her when she -begins to recognise his sins and his evil ways reappearing in those -children who may come to her, and who will bring their own retribution -with them; be sure of that. - -It is a priceless boon to know that one inherits a right and a duty to -be good in the broadest sense of the word. I personally do not care one -fig what a man’s trade or worldly position is so long as he is -absolutely honest and trustworthy, and would not act or speak an -untruth; and this is the sort of inheritance we should strive to hand -on to our children. The higher the station the more should be the -endeavour to live in such a way that our example may be valued; but, -whatever the station, let us remember that there is always some one -influenced by us, and that we have obligations to them which we must -consider if we want to live a really good life. - -And one of the first things to think of is this question of marriage, -not only because of ourselves, but because of the children who may come -to us, and who must be thought of before we give our girls to men who -may make them ‘fairish’ husbands; perhaps may not ill-treat them or beat -them, but who are not possessed of sufficient individuality to be the -heads of their own houses, and who have not honest souls and some -ambitions above the mere ruck of living and making as much money as they -possibly can, not only because such men can never be the makers and -possessors of a home, but because they may leave children whose -weaknesses and wickednesses may not only break their mother’s heart, but -may make the world worse than they find it, one’s truest ambition being -to make the world, or one’s own special corner thereof, better than one -found it in some way or other. - -Young people naturally resent advice, and rarely, if ever, act upon it, -and we have all taken this to heart so much that some of us have ceased -to give advice at all. But this should not be so; the advice may not be -taken--that we cannot help--but it is our duty to give it, and I hope -all mothers will do so, whether their children act upon it or not. We -should not shirk a duty because we cannot see any effects; they may -appear even when we have long ceased to look for them. - -The sins of the fathers must be visited on the children; there is no -doubt about that. We need not argue about it; it is a fact that we all -have to acknowledge, and therefore there is no need to go into the -rights and wrongs of the matter, for no amount of argument will do away -with this inevitable truth; and equally, therefore, a woman should -choose not only a man she loves, but a man she respects, and one it -shall be her very greatest pride to know her children will resemble. She -will be spared endless suffering if she do, for there is no suffering on -earth like that caused by wicked children, or even by the anxieties -about weakly and suffering children; and she had better remain an old -maid all her life than bring upon herself the unspeakable wretchedness -of having children who are a constant source of anxiety to her because -of what they may, nay, of what they _must_ inherit. - -Given a clean record, a stainless youth, a good constitution, and an -honest worker, and we need ask no more for our girls. It will not hurt -them to begin their new life on a much lower scale than that which they -have been accustomed to, more especially if we have taught them their -duty to themselves and their future. Then, if we know that the young -couple honestly love each other, we can feel content. - -And by love I do not mean blind, unreasoning passion, the mad, -extraordinary feeling that one reads about in novels, and which -generally lands one or the other in the Divorce Court, and of which I -have nothing to say, but I do mean that wonderful self-devotion to -another, the mutual respect and regard, and the absolute unselfishness, -that make up the true love that never fades, and that increases year by -year in those whose married life was based on such love as this, and -whose home reflects around the happiness which is centred there, and -which can only be procured by those who begin their life together on a -proper basis, and who do not expect to find in each other the god or -goddess of perfection, who would probably be as unpleasant to live with -as he or she is undoubtedly non-existent in this world of ours. - -Of course all this sounds fearfully prosaic, and is, no doubt, -middle-aged philosophy; but it would not be worth writing down if it -were not middle-aged, because it would be imagination only and not the -fruits of experience. I have lived a certain number of years, and I have -had large opportunities of observation, and I am certain of what I am -saying, that the truest marriages are those which are framed on respect -as well as love, and that those women are the happiest who can -implicitly trust and believe in the men to whom they have given -themselves in some measure body and soul; and that, furthermore, they -get the most out of life who take care every moment they live has -something to occupy it, and that that occupation benefits someone beside -their immediate selves. - -I have often heard people say that the first year of their married life, -and indeed that the honeymoon itself, was the very dullest and most -difficult period of their whole lives; but I have always listened to -these statements with astonishment, for I have come to the conclusion -that if what they say is true it must be that, like the despised family -parties, it is because they did not manage their affairs properly. Why, -the honeymoon should be the most amusing journey one ever makes--I know -mine was--for one sets out together with an entertaining feeling that -the absence of the chaperon for the first time gives just a _soupçon_ of -delightful impropriety to the journey; that for absolutely the first -time in one’s life one can go where one likes and do as one likes; that -if one liked to put on one’s Sunday frock on a week-day one would only -be admired and not scolded, and that one’s shopping becomes actually -important and not frivolous, because it is for the house and not for -oneself merely. Besides, there is the amusement of seeing new places -with a congenial spirit, and with one who does not consider it his duty -to insist on learning all he can about a place; in fact, the -honeymooners are no longer children to be educated, but people bent on -amusing themselves together, with no _arrière-pensées_; these come -afterwards. Then business has become dreadfully imperative in its -demands on the husband, while the wife leaves home for a holiday, her -mind distracted between pleasure and a melancholy foreboding of what may -happen during her absence to children and household, neither of which -can naturally trouble her during that first delightful jaunt, which -should always be to some amusing, bright place where theatres can be -fallen back on should it be wet, or where picture galleries could be -visited under similar adverse circumstances. One can visit the dullest -of places safely together after one has been married years; there are -then mutual interests which will always occupy husband and wife: but at -first this is actual suicide; there are then not very many things to -discuss, and the unfortunate young people fall back on endearments and -use up in a month that which should last them comfortably for all their -lives. - -But we are arriving at the honeymoon before we have allowed the -engagement, and must therefore retrace our steps, or else we shall omit -the most important item of all--viz. how to act when we see an -engagement is imminent and we are not sure if we like it or not. We -should soon make up our minds on the subject though, for if we do not -approve we can easily manage that the young people shall not meet any -more. It only requires tact and common sense, two qualities which seem -to me often strangely lacking in the ordinary British household. - -And, indeed, all that appertains to matrimony is made very difficult by -the extraordinary manner in which English society looks upon the -relations between young men and girls; in some measure allowing great -familiarity, and in another way turning on anyone and calling her -‘match-maker,’ should the unfortunate individual attempt to bring -together those she thinks would like to see a little more of each other. -Match-maker, indeed! Why, I consider it the duty of every happily -married woman to try and make others happy in a similar way; and I have -known more than one happy woman rendered a miserably disappointed -spinster, just because the right person was not at hand to manage a last -meeting, or give the one opportunity that was all that was required to -make liking into love, or to ensure the speaking of the question that -had trembled on the lips for some time. - -Of course marriages are made in heaven, but I also know that Heaven -helps those who help themselves; and as no girl can do that, it is the -duty of her married friends to help her, especially if they have any -common sense, and can act _Deus ex machinâ_, without letting anyone know -what they have done. - -If our young people are ‘desperately in love’ with the wrong man, or the -wrong girl, all the better that the love is desperate; it will burn -itself out all the quicker; but not if we oppose the match tooth and -nail, though at the same time we need not countenance it. We should, -under these adverse circumstances, state calmly but boldly the reasons -we have for our dislikes; we should simply put all the ‘cons’ we know in -plain words, and we should listen to the ‘pros’ equally calmly, and we -should never allow a _personal_ dislike to make any difference in the -matter; but our reasons should be valid and not of the ‘Doctor Fell’ -kind. Then, if the daughter or son is not convinced, say no more, do not -oppose it; let the young people see as much as they can of each other; -if there are disagreeable relations, make them very welcome to your -house; be civil but not affectionate to the man or girl; and finally be, -or rather appear to be, absolutely indifferent. Make a fuss, rage and -stamp and oppose, and you may at the same time order the trousseau. Act -as I advise, and ten chances to one the match will be broken off; but if -it is not, and should it turn out well, be the first to thankfully -acknowledge it. Should it turn out badly, refrain from the delightful -habit of saying, ‘I told you so,’ but instead recall to the offended -party all the reasons he or she had for marrying; do not condole, but -rather remind him or her of the early days and of the love that once -existed, and remind them that marriage, once entered into, must be made -the best of. You will do far more good and have far more satisfaction in -healing the breach than in proving yourself a true prophet; for if -people were more sure than they are now, that being bound they cannot -get loose, they would cease to strain against the cords, use would -accustom them to them, and finally what was once irksome would be -pleasurable. People who have once loved each other can always remember -the happy days of their youth; and, remembering them, naturally will -long to return to them, or to secure at least in some measure a reflex -of them in their middle age. - -But, having contemplated this side of the picture, let us look at the -far pleasanter one where all goes merry as a marriage bell, and the -engagement is all that it should be. Yet before we do this I must just -add one other word, and that is that, come what may, no marriage should -ever be entered on, on any pretext whatever, unless the consent, if not -the approbation, of the parents has been obtained. I have seen several -marriages begin like this; I have never seen one that turned out well, -or that was absolutely a success, and I do wish my readers to remember -that this is a fact, and to therefore refrain from conduct that can have -but one result; besides which, how can the children of such marriages -turn out, if one has no control over them, should they desire to do -likewise? for they have the one unanswerable argument in their -possession: ‘You did it; why should not I?’ Then also a man never really -respects a woman who throws over every one of her relations for him: he -knows he is not worth the sacrifice, and though he may be flattered at -first, ultimately he despises the girl who gave up all for him, and -never really regards her with the reverence he must give to her who -comes to him from her home, from her mother’s hand, knowing that that -home is the emptier for her absence, and that a place should always be -kept there for her, should she require to return there for any reason -whatever. Home should be always home to the married children of the -household, just as much as it is to those who remain spinsters and -bachelors; and on no account should the doors be closed on them, or -should they be allowed to feel that they have become in a measure -strangers there, and that their place being filled knows and requires -them no more. The trousseau of a girl should be as ample as can be -afforded, and should have more under-garments than anything else; -dresses alter in fashion so rapidly that it is folly to burden her with -too many garments; neither are unmade costumes any use in these days, -when no good dressmaker will make up one’s own materials. I should, -therefore, give a girl not less than two dozen of every feminine -garment, and as many more of each as I could afford. A good trousseau -would cost about 200_l._, and of course as much more as the parents are -prepared to spend; it should include a sealskin coat and a long fur -cloak; the other outside garments should of course depend upon fashion -and time of year, but it is a good plan to have some extra yards of -material to all the dresses, particularly if the bride is going away -from London to a distant part of the world. - -When the engagement is really formed, and the wedding is beginning to be -the subject of conversation, one cannot say all the difficulties are -over; there are the bridegroom’s family to welcome and be introduced to, -and though, of course, if the bridegroom is well known to us this -initial difficulty will not have to be encountered in all its worst -forms, still very often the engagement alters one’s relationships -suddenly, and it requires careful steering then to avoid friction; as a -rule the parents on both sides think their children might have done -better, and it is generally difficult to prevent this feeling being -unduly apparent. Then I do beg for all my girl friends that they may -have a pretty wedding; I do not want enormous sums spent on the wedding -dress, but I do want the church to be nicely decked, all her friends to -be asked who care to come, not because they may possibly give wedding -presents--a species of blackmail which has become seriously unpleasant -lately to anyone who is not sufficiently strong-minded to refuse to give -because they are afraid of being out of the fashion--but because they -are really friends, and will bring good luck by their loving prayers and -real affection. And I do deprecate for all the hurried ‘quiet weddings’ -in a tailor-made frock; a woman should be in white on her festal day, -and it should be indeed a festal day if her marriage is entered on in -the spirit I have been writing about. - -I love a pretty wedding: the bride in her lovely white dress, and her -group of bridesmaids; the flower-decked church, the hymns, and the -bright faces of the choir boys (I must own I have a great weakness for -choir boys, and generally make friends with them all) are all such a -bright beginning to a new life; and if the solemn words are spoken by -the ‘family priest,’ the man who, may be, married the parents and -christened and prepared the bride for confirmation, there remains -nothing to be desired, and we can wish the new home God-speed, knowing -our wishes will have every chance of being fulfilled. - -Afternoon weddings, with the flower-decked tables and the inexpensive -refreshments, bring pretty weddings within the reach of everyone nearly; -even the erstwhile elaborately decorated cake now bears a wreath of -simple and real flowers, instead of the pinchbeck temple that used to be -reared on the centre; and all that is required besides is a certain -amount of cake, ices, tea and coffee, and a little wine. Here again the -expenditure can be regulated by the income; but it need not be an -expensive affair unless one specially desires that it may be. - -Now, most people are married by banns, and licences are rarely required; -this simplifies matters very much. But before the wedding is definitely -decided on I should advise the clergyman of the church one is always in -the habit of attending being consulted about all the legal forms; he is -sure to know all that is necessary, will tell you exactly what you ought -to do, what the choir and organist will expect (of course, if the -organist be a gentleman, as he often is, and a personal friend, you must -give him a present, not money), and what steps you must take about the -decorations. But do not hand these over to a shop; be sentimental for -once, and let personal friends undertake this duty. I would rather have -hideous decorations put up by hands that loved one, on such an occasion, -than the most exquisite trophies ever designed by Mrs. Green and put up -by those who do not even know the bride and bridegroom by sight. - -I do hope every bride may soon have her _dot_, just like all French and -German maidens have; but in any case she must not go penniless upon her -wedding tour. Coventry Patmore’s idea in the ‘Angel of the House,’ that -his three-days’ bride asked him to pay for the sand-shoes--‘Felix, will -you pay?’--as a matter of course, is a mere man’s notion. I am certain -she must have hated to do it, and would have given anything for some -money of her own: so do not let Paterfamilias forget this, even if he -have the conscience to allow his daughter to go penniless into her -husband’s house; and let him give his daughter a nice little sum of -money, in order that she may not have to ask her husband for a farthing -until their return home, when the allowance question should be gone into -and settled, thus doing away with the constant jar about money, which is -at the bottom of more matrimonial unhappiness than is anything else. - -I think I have said all that is to be said on the subject of weddings, -and have stated boldly how best to secure the happiness of our children; -it is a subject on which I feel very deeply, and when I see girls marry -men who cannot by any possibility make good husbands or good fathers, I -long to tell them this, but of course no one but their mothers can; and -I shall hope that I may influence one or two to do so, and moreover to -insist that their children do not marry to perpetuate the disease or the -evil tendencies that must wreck innocent lives that have no business -ever to exist; for while, if marriage is entered into properly, there -can be no failure about it, marriage being the perfection of life, the -uniting and joining of the two lives, which, separate, are indeed -incomplete, but which, brought together, form an absolute and wonderful -whole, a marriage which perpetuates the vices of a drunkard, of an evil -temper, of an habitual liar, or the constitution of a consumptive or of -a lunatic, is absolutely wicked, and can never be anything but a curse -to the wife and mother, whatever it may be to the man himself. A _roué_ -has discounted his chances of a happy married life. No woman can reform -a _roué_, and even if she could she should not try, because in her -children she will perpetuate the father’s vices, and will make the world -worse a thousandfold by those she brings into it, while at the best she -may save a soul, though I personally do not believe she could even do -this; at all events, it is not right to sacrifice her future and her -children’s future in the endeavour, and therefore I hope she may never -try. - -As I said before, we cannot explain away the mysterious influence of -heredity; but as it exists and is inexorable in its consequences, we -must acknowledge it, and we must all do our best so to live that we can -give our children the noblest inheritance on earth--an unimpaired -constitution, and a name unstained by any mean or low vice, a name that -may be our proudest possession: aye, even if we saw it first above the -window of some suburban shop! Then shall the world become better because -we have lived in it and given it hostages also: and so shall we prove -what I should like to be always preaching--that marriage is the most -blessed state on earth, if it is begun and carried on mutually with -esteem, affection, and real consideration, for each other’s welfare. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -ABOUT THE BOYS. - - -The poor boys! When I begin to write about their home I could almost -weep when I think how small a space of their young lives they are -permitted to spend under the home roof. - -I have said so much in my former book about home education that I -suppose I must not say very much more now, but I long to repeat my -protest against the present manner in which boys are sent away from -home, almost before they are able to stand alone, quite before they are -able to withstand all the thousand and one temptations that assail them -the moment they are turned into the herd of boys which represents a -school, and where the poor things have to spend most of what ought to -be the very happiest part of anyone’s life. However, as public opinion -is against me, I am going to set down here the best way of mitigating -the evils, and I also intend to give the relative expenses at some of -the best of our public schools and colleges, so that those who read this -book may see at a glance whether they can afford to send their boys to -Harrow, Eton, Rugby, or Clifton--Harrow being put first by me, as I am -devoted to the bright, healthy, happy place, as I suppose all are -devoted to the public school of which they know most; for, much as I -deprecate the life at school which is so far away from home influence, -and much as I should prefer to live at Harrow and have my boys home at -night, there is something about a public school education which nothing -else gives, and which can be entered fearlessly at fourteen if the boy -have been well trained and if he have a certain amount of moral courage -and good principles of his own. It is madness to send a weak-minded lad -who inherits evil propensities to a public school; he is sure sooner or -later to disgrace himself and his wretched parents at the same time. - -But before going into the question of schools and expenses there, let us -dwell for a few minutes on the arrangement of the boys’ rooms in the -house, which should ever be the happiest place in the world to them, and -from which should flow that never-failing stream of sympathy in their -progress, their pursuits, and their general welfare which has borne many -a lad on to success and to a brilliant place in the world in after life. -An authority told me once that the boys who did best were undoubtedly -those who had most letters from home; who knew everything that was -happening at home just as well as if they were there; to whom the -movements of the family and of the animals were as familiar as if they -still were among them, and who were not afraid to tell their parents -anything. Sympathy is a priceless gift; sympathy between home and the -boys at school is an anchor indeed, and will keep them safely in the -harbour when every other means might otherwise have failed. And this -sympathy can but be expressed in constant communication between home and -school, and by a loving care, while the boys are absent, of their rooms, -their belongings, and the especial niche which should be kept sacredly -for them, and not cleared out hastily for them to inhabit, as it were, -on sufferance during the all too brief holiday time they spend at home. - -I do not mean to say that during their absence the rooms should never be -used, that would be simply too ridiculous; but they should not be taken -into household wear; if they are they cease to be the boys’ rooms, and -in consequence the boys feel they are a nuisance and putting some one -else out; they do not naturally take their places in the circle, feeling -they are filling a gap which has never been filled since the day they -returned to school. - -I should certainly try to have a place set apart for the boys for wet -days and for their own special occupations; if this cannot be managed, -their bedrooms should be so arranged that at one end they can carry on -their several hobbies without doing any damage to the finer portions of -the house; but, if in any way possible, secure a sitting-room for them -where they can do as they like; and if you want really perfect holidays -find some enthusiastic skater, cricketer, or walker as holiday tutor, -and make him responsible for the welfare of the boys. As they do not -live at home, naturally there is no one told off to keep special care of -them or to go about with them; if this is done, the holidays pass -without a hitch, and without unduly threatening the mother’s life, who, -try as she will, cannot be sure that, if the boys are out alone for half -an hour longer than usual, they are not drowned, or lost, or lying in -ditches with broken legs, and who can never school herself to be their -companion, even should she be strong enough to be so, because she is -always expecting something dreadful to happen to them. At least I know -what I feel on the subject, and I suppose I only feel what everyone else -does in the matter. In the boys’ rooms, whether bed or sitting rooms, I -advise always the invaluable dado; this ensures the lower parts of the -wall being kept tidy, and minimises the expense of doing the rooms up -when they become shabby. A rail along the floor, or rather a piece of -wood about three inches wide laid along the floor close to the -wainscoting, will keep the chairs, &c., off the paint, and then, if we -have a pretty paper above the serviceable matting, or cretonne, or arras -cloth which forms the dado, we shall be quite safe to preserve the room -for some time, looking fresh and nice and bright. - -If baths have to be taken in the boys’ rooms, or if they clean their -rifles, skates, or other matters there, or if they have pet animals -which share their abode, I strongly advise that the floor should be -covered with a plain good linoleum without any pattern on, and then on -the top of that a strong square of carpet should be laid. Wallace’s -‘Victor’ is a capital carpet, and so is Pearke’s Anglo-Indian square -carpet. This should not be fastened down in any way, and should be most -rigorously folded back by the housemaid during those hours when bathing -or dirty work is being carried on. The linoleum can always be cleaned -with soft warm water, and kept in order with boiled oil and turpentine, -and the carpet can be put back in a moment, thus making the room tidy at -once. - -Rubbishy cheap furniture should never be bought for a boy’s room. -Naturally by this I do not mean we should be unduly reckless over what -we buy for the boys, but that we should go to some good man like -Wallace, and tell him that we want good seasoned wood and handles which -will not pull off, and drawers and doors which will not stick, and which -will not tempt the lads by such conduct to undue violence in the matter. -Boys are always in a hurry, always impatient. They can’t help it; it is -a failing of the sex, and half the damage boys do is caused by the fact -that we do not realise this and often give them rickety or common -furniture, because ‘anything is good enough for the boys to knock -about.’ There cannot be a greater mistake. Give strong ash furniture, -made properly, a good plain brass and iron bedstead, and a good chain -mattress, and we shall find it pay; yes, even if the boys play ship on -the mattress, the necessary waves being well represented by the manner -in which the mattress goes up and down when jumped upon by the intrepid -sailors. Our mattresses have served as ships and as oceans too, but they -are as good now as the day they were bought, simply because they were -very expensive; but if they had not been dear I don’t think there would, -have been anything left of them by now; therefore cheapness is no -economy, as regards mattresses at any rate; of that I am quite -convinced. A good suite of ash furniture containing wardrobe, washing -stand, and toilet table can be had for about 10_l._, and I do not advise -less being given. This should be supplemented by a chest of drawers to -hold shirts, socks, &c., and the boots should be kept either downstairs -in the cloak-room or else in a proper boot cupboard; and I strongly -advise the toilet covers to be in art serge, simply trimmed by a species -of edging in crewels composed of about nine stitches, one long, one -shorter each side of the long stitch, and one each side shorter still, -like this: - - | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - -This should be carried round the edges of the cover in a lighter shade -than the serge itself, and would cost about 2_s._ a cover, or indeed -less, as serge is double width. There would be no ball fringe to pull -off by shutting it heedlessly in a drawer, and there would be nothing we -could not easily replace, should blacking, paint, oil, or any of the -thousand and one messes in which boys seem to revel be spilled upon it. -White toilet covers are absolutely useless, and of course it would be -really ridiculous to give them more elaborate covers, which could only -be spoiled. - -It would not be of much use here to give any special schemes of -decoration for boys’ rooms, but I may say that the cheaper the wall -paper is above the dado the better. Boys are continually adding to their -stores of pictures and ornaments, and are as continually shooting at a -mark on the wall with anything that comes handy, and are not above -giving the flowers on the paper a nose, or a mouth from which a pipe -proceeds, or ears which resemble those of a donkey; and though these -decorations may be left a certain time it is best to have such a paper -which, while being pretty, is one that we can replace without an undue -struggle on our part; and I may mention Haines’s capital 7½_d._ blue and -terra-cotta papers. The blue could have blue paint, and a blue matting -dado, and a yellow and white ceiling paper; the terra-cotta might have -ivory paint, a terra-cotta and green cretonne dado, and curtains of the -same cretonne. Helbronner has a beauty, 604, at 1_s._ 8_d._ a yard, and -the ceiling paper could be Land’s pale green and white ‘Watteau’ at -3_s._ the piece. Wallace’s dull green ‘lily carpet’ would make a capital -square there, as would his red lily in the blue room, where the cretonne -could be Oetzmann’s red and blue Westminster cretonne, which should be -lined, as should all cretonnes which do duty for blinds as well as -curtains; this all curtains should do, had I my way entirely in the -matter. The walls and books and pictures should be the boys’ own choice, -and so should be the ornaments on the mantel-piece, though a clock -should be invariably provided, and this should be one the veracity of -which should be unimpeachable--punctuality must be enforced and hours -kept, and no excuses should be allowed on this score. If the youth -declares he wishes to make up for his perforce straitened hours of -repose at school, let him go to bed as early as he likes--never -interfere with that, but do not weakly allow him to be late in the -morning; it puts out the whole household, and for no reason at all, and -should never be countenanced for a moment. Late hours in the morning -mean more than I have space to dilate on here; but you may be quite sure -that a household which is late in the morning is never a well-managed or -prosperous one. Late hours then denote lazy, self-indulgent habits, and -therefore should never be allowed. - -If the boys begin them in the holidays be sure they will be continued -after school is left, and therefore be firm on this point, although I -know all too well how difficult it is to be stern and inflexible towards -the boys who are only at home for the holidays, and naturally are in -consequence just a wee bit spoiled by their indulgent parents. Now if a -sitting-room can be given to the boys and the tutor, I advise it being -furnished as prettily as may be as regards the walls, but the floor must -not have a carpet, and room must be found there for the lathe, -carpenter’s tools, and odds and ends so dear to the heart of the boy; -and here let me beg and implore parents to aid and abet their children -in any hobby they have, if they can do so reasonably and comfortably, -and without undue expense; and let me also beg of them to keep and treat -with scrupulous reverence any drawings, efforts of literary genius, or -of mechanical genius, which their children produce and present to them; -at the same time I do not advise their being exhibited to the world at -large, while I should carefully explain to children, that the thing was -kept, not because of its present intrinsic merits, nor because it was a -distinct effort of genius, but because it was their doing, and because -we should like to compare it with future efforts, in order that we may -see how they have improved. - -Without going the lengths that ‘Misunderstood’ does (a book, by the way, -which has made more prigs than any other under the sun, in my belief), I -think parents often make their children miserable without in the least -meaning to do so, by reason of the manner in which they refuse to -interest themselves in their pursuits. It is not pleasant to partake of -sticky black cakes baked in the dolls’-house pans, to sit on the cold -stairs in the dark looking on at a spirited representation of a -magic-lantern, the slides of which we know by heart, and we may endure -agonies over the hundredth representation of the usual charade, neither -may we feel profound interest in the School Magazine; but at the same -time we are bound to think we do, and we ought to be more than thankful -that our children care for these things and go in for them, rather than -for the usual hanging about, reading those dreadful Rider Haggard books, -which have done more harm than anything else, I verily believe, to the -youth of the present day, and have vitiated their tastes, until nothing -pleases them which is not written in gore and bound up in a mixture of -pistols and swords, which is as odious as it is unnecessary. - -The boys’ books ought to form a very distinct feature in their -sitting-room, and, if possible, we should endeavour to keep out all -Haggardish stories. But this is almost impossible in these days of -independence and fourpence-halfpenny literature. I know I can’t, and -glorious detective stories and other works of art are to be found all -over the house; but we must do our best to improve the standard, by -placing other better books in the authorised bookcases, and by -ridiculing and, if necessary, confiscating whenever we can all we so -highly disapprove of. At the same time I honestly confess this is mere -advice: I cannot stem the torrent myself, but hope there are other more -strong-minded parents than I am, who may be able to do so, though I have -done my best in the matter, and have tried everything I can think of to -eliminate these books, for which I have the most hearty contempt and -dislike. - -It would be no use, I think, to say more about the arrangement of the -room which should be set apart for the boys; but I cannot say too much -about the necessity of the dear things having a place where they can do -absolutely what they like, for half the friction which seems to me -inevitable in other people’s households, when the boys are at home, is -undoubtedly caused by the fact that the boys are in the way, and have no -place that they can call their own. Under these circumstances they worry -their sisters, spoil the furniture, and upset the servants; and more -especially does this happen in London, where there is nowhere for them -to disport themselves, and nothing that they can do except promenade the -streets and go to theatres and such-like places of amusement. - -Of course, little boys can be managed well. They have their nurseries -first, and then their governess and schoolrooms. It is when they begin -to go to school that the trouble begins. The governess does not care -about them preparing their lessons in her room; and if they are day -boarders, which they certainly ought to be until they are twelve or -thirteen, and, indeed, until they go into the big school, where they -should be when they are fourteen and not a day before, the lessons must -be prepared at home, and this work should doubtless go on under the -superintendence of someone in authority. Parents often can and do help -immensely, but there are very few men who do not find their classics -decidedly rusty by the time they are required to superintend their -children’s preparation; besides which they are, as a rule, tired with -their own day’s work, and are not in the least inclined for extra -labour, and often do not possess the necessary stock of patience -required for this kind of employment. - -My ideal education would consist of sending the boys to a good school in -the daytime, and in taking care that they prepare their work in the -evening, under a good tutor, who would be trusted to simply superintend -them, and to give the necessary help, but who would not do the work for -them; he would not live in the house, but would simply come for the -couple of hours during which the boys would work. This would do away -with the great objection to home education, which is undoubtedly the -work which has to be done at home, and which cannot be properly -superintended unless someone is told off for the purpose, unless the -parents are well up in the work of the day, and are furthermore prepared -to give up almost all society for the sake of looking after the boys--a -thing which should never be done, for it is most important that we -should make and keep friends; if we don’t care for them for ourselves, -we must care for them for the sake of the children, who would find -themselves shut out of everything when they grew up did their parents -withdraw themselves entirely from society when they were yet small. - -Of course a great many people cannot manage to live where there are -really good schools, but equally of course a great many can, and when -this can be managed it undoubtedly ought to be; and places like Bedford, -where the schools are excellent, and Wimborne, where the Grammar School -has improved mightily of late years, and where house rent is moderately -cheap and living very inexpensive, offer especial advantages to a widow -left with two or three sons to educate, and to military men and others -who can live where they like, and have only their boys’ education to -think about, Bedford being especially good for this purpose. - -I believe there is a book published which gives all necessary -particulars about all these schools, and indeed about all the schools -all over England, but I shall only mention those of which I have -personal knowledge, as I am no believer in second-hand information: this -can always be procured for special cases, and would be out of place in a -book like mine, but I do strongly advise all who can--all who have no -settled occupation that binds them down to a special locality--to live -where they can have their children educated from the home roof. I am -quite certain that this is the ideal and proper education, and results -in a better class of man all round. They may not be as polished, their -manners may not be as perfect, and they may be shy and gruff, but their -morals will be ever so much better, and they will be better men in the -highest sense of the word. For though they may ‘marry the lady’s maid,’ -like the youth in ‘Punch,’ at all events they will marry her; they will -not degrade and then desert her, as alas! so many men do nowadays. But I -myself don’t believe they would do anything of the kind; by far and away -the best men I know are those who have been least away from home, and -they are not among the unsuccessful ones of this life either. - -However, it is sometimes impossible for parents to manage home -education, though in London there are so many opportunities, that it -must be more a case of must than can’t, for there are Westminster, St. -Paul’s, and the University College Schools, all of which can be managed -after the boys are old enough to be trusted in the streets alone, and at -the latter of which for the absurdly low fee of 8_l._ 8_s._ a quarter -can be had the best education in the world, but where the boys need -learn very little if they can scrape through the day’s routine without -finding themselves in either the ‘black’ or the ‘appearing’ books; but -even then they do not learn as little as they can if they try at either -Eton or Harrow, where it seems to me the education given is especially -useless for practical service, and can never by any chance fit the -recipient for any real work that he may have to undertake. - -The perfect education should be that which most fits a man for his work, -and no one can watch the manner in which we are being ousted by Germans -from every place without allowing that their education has something -which ours lacks, and that unless our boys can be taught to emulate -their patience, perseverance, and eager quest after knowledge, to say -nothing of their capabilities of existing on a pittance, we shall wake -up some day to find our lads quite out of the running, because they do -not understand life properly, and because they are unable to fight for -themselves against the present overwhelming German invasion. There is a -limpness, a passiveness about the boys of the present day that is -something dreadful, and that I think springs in some measure from these -fatal examinations, and the fearsome higher education. They see the -prizes can only fall to the exceptionally gifted and hard-working -members of the fraternity, and therefore they are dispirited before they -start, knowing that, try as they may, they can never succeed. Far from -stimulating most youths to work, the sense that unless they are geniuses -they cannot pass the exams cripples them, and they cease to care to try -for what they know they cannot possibly obtain, read how they may; and -therefore I cannot but think the excessively high standard that must be -reached nowadays in everything is a mistake, and that serious -consideration should be given both to this and to the fact that our boys -are not able to compete with the Germans because something in our -scheme of education and learning does not permit them to do so -successfully. - -Let us then give home education a chance and see what can come of that, -and let our nurses be French and German, so that the children may learn -these languages with their earliest breath; and, moreover, let us in -some measure educate our children for what they are going to be. It is -no manner of use to give those who are to be in trade the same teaching -as that required for the learned professions; and I venture to state -that if a man has to take to trade the sooner he does it the better. -Eighteen ought to see him in harness of a light kind, but harness all -the same; and I furthermore state boldly that it is absolutely waste of -time and money and everything else to send boys abroad to school. They -never do any good there, and they may get into most frightful mischief. -If boys must be sent to France or Germany, take them yourselves, -otherwise you may be quite sure that both time and money are wasted. I -am not speaking without book, and I have never heard of one school, -either in France or Germany, where the education was of the least use, -neither will it be until more schools follow the example of Clifton, and -form settlements abroad on the lines of our public schools; though even -then I am inclined to adhere to my own opinion and urge on parents, -whose sons require to know French and German thoroughly, to go to both -places themselves, and stay a couple of years in each in some good town. -If they do they will achieve their object, and their boys will command -far higher prices in the labour market than those can who do not know -any languages except their own, and a certain amount of Latin and Greek, -which, it seems to me, they learn only to forget as soon as ever they -can manage to do so. - -But if parents will not hear of home education they must most carefully -select the preparatory school, and they must manage to afford in -addition a first-rate public school, for nothing can possibly be worse -than a cheap or inferior place of education; and it is an astonishing -fact to me that in such an important matter as is education one requires -as a rule so little guarantee that we actually receive what we are -paying for. - -No one can be a lawyer or doctor without credentials; anyone who likes -can open a school, and command scholars too. Why should not the State -interfere here?--it is very fond of interfering dreadfully on far less -important matters--and say boldly that no one shall have a school at all -until he has qualified himself in the eye of the State, and is diplomaed -or hall-marked in such a manner that one can tell at once whether he is -fitted for the work or not? Until this is done I much fear that -preparatory schools will not improve to any great extent, and that the -middle classes will continue to send their children to people who are -utterly unfit for the work they have undertaken. A personal reference -from some parent, often enough from one who knows little indeed about -his children, and possibly a few letters after the name, are considered -quite sufficient guarantee by most people that they are obtaining all -that they are paying for. - -A good preparatory school costs from 85_l._ to about 125_l._ a year; of -course less can be paid, and I dare say more can be paid also, but I -consider an excellent school can be had for 100_l._ a year. Of course -there are always extras beside, and these depend entirely on the means -of the parents, and in some measure on the schoolmaster himself, who -should undoubtedly be a man in whom we can trust, and to whom we can -give our confidence, telling him exactly what we can afford to spend, -and also what manner of child our special boy is, and also, most -important of all, what he is to be, and what particular talents, -weaknesses, or goodnesses he may be likely to inherit. We should also -give our child our confidence. We should tell him emphatically what we -can afford for him, what we wish him to do, and finally encourage him in -every way to get on by writing to or seeing him constantly, and by never -letting him imagine for one moment that ‘out of sight means out of -mind;’ he is more in our minds, just because he is absent from us, than -he would be were he constantly in our presence. - -As regards public schools, Harrow costs roughly about 200_l._ a year, -and the first term’s bills are as follows: - - £ _s._ _d._ - Board and washing 30 0 0 - Public tuition and school charges 11 11 0 - Entrance to school and house 16 0 0 - Private tuition 5 0 0 - ------------ - 62 11 0 - -Of course the 16_l._ entrance fees do not come in again, but this is -more than spent on extras. There are subscriptions to endless things and -payments for extra tuition, for which a long list of printed names on -the first account in some measure prepares the unhappy parent, who -somehow never is prepared, for the extraordinary amount of new clothes, -mending, hair-cutting, and other trifles, which go to sum up the -accounts in the ensuing terms. - -Eton seems to me to cost about 20_l._ a year more, and the bills of one -term are as follows: - - £ _s._ _d._ - Board and tuition 44 0 0 - Washing 2 0 7 - Head master, school instruction, &c. 8 8 0 - ------------ - 54 8 7 - -This is without entrance fee, and the extras seem to me to be rather -more frequent, while Rugby is considerably less than either, the bills -there being as under: - - £ _s._ _d._ - Tuition 13 6 8 - Boarding 24 0 0 - School stationery (this varies) 1 10 0 - Medical officer 0 10 6 - ------------ - 39 7 2 - -Both at Eton and Rugby the allowance given by the house master is 1_s._ -a week, at Harrow 2_s._, but besides this of course the boys take money -to school. The smaller boys at Harrow should not have more than 3_l._ -during the term, and out of this they must pay sundry subscriptions. At -Eton I think the pocket-money can be almost anything, while at Rugby -3_l._ does until the boy gets into the Sixth, when he should have more -money, and when the books, a heavy item in most school bills, are far -more expensive than they were in the lower forms. - -Individually I know most of Harrow, as I said before; but, as these -bills have been copied from actual accounts rendered to friends of my -own, I think I am justified in printing them, and they will also serve -as a guide to those parents who are hesitating where to put down their -boys’ names, a ceremony which should take place when the boys are about -six or seven; and if the parents have no ‘traditions,’ and are not -wedded to any special school by reason of the father having been there -before, or relations on either side having been in the special school, -the school should be chosen in some measure to suit the boy’s health, -and also in some measure his future occupation. I should not send a lad -who was going to work in any shape or form to Eton. That school should -be reserved for those useless individuals, who toil not neither do they -spin, nor should I send a boy to Harrow who intended to go in for trade -or anything save one of the learned professions. Those who have a big -business to go into might be sent to Rugby or Clifton, but I should -prefer to let them attend St. Paul’s or the London University School, or -else send them to Bedford or a similar establishment. - -When the boys are at school, the holidays should be in some measure -legislated for and all arrangements made for the boys’ welfare; and of -course no parent who cared for his or her children would possibly be -away from home or out of reach of the boys during that time: the -parents’ holidays, which are as important in some measure as the -children’s, should come off when school has begun again, but on no -account should they occur when the boys are at home; and if possible the -summer holidays should be spent by the sea, the beloved sea, which, as -fashion changes, is, I am sorry to say, becoming unpopular, and is left -alone by those who are fashion led, and in consequence impelled towards -the country or ‘foreign parts.’ - -But of the holidays more anon; I have not yet quite done with the boys, -and the holidays can have a chapter to themselves later on. - -I think the most important hint of all which I have to give is that on -no account should a boy leave school or college until we have something -to put him into, and which shall occupy his time. There is nothing more -fatal than idleness, and it should never be countenanced in any shape or -form, and I do hope some day to find that all boys who have to earn -their living may be given some sort of a trade--something they can do -with their fingers, outside and above any profession they may be going -in for. Given a trade they can never starve, and would be far more fit -for the colonies, where so many lads flit, looking forward to more -freedom and more outdoor life than they can possibly have here in -England, though I cannot imagine a more foolish thing than to allow a -youth to go out ‘on spec;’ unless he has something to go out to, he had -far better remain where he is; if not he will soon degenerate into -something far less like a gentleman than he would have been had he -remained at home and taken to some good and honest trade. I cannot help -thinking that these ‘decorative’ days of ours will open up the furniture -business to gentlemen, and that soon our houses will be provided for -entirely by men who are artists, and that those who cannot originate, -yet have artistic tastes and an eye for colour, will not despise work -which is far more interesting than desk-work for example, and far more -remunerative than the position of clerk, with which so many lads of the -present day have to satisfy themselves. The gentlemen of England can -bring back trade to England if they choose, they can replace the -slovenly workman and the shoddy work, and it remains to be proved if -they will do so; at present people’s eyes are open, and trade is no -longer a badge of disgrace, so I hope some day to see industrial -villages turning out good work, where at present are empty labourers’ -cottages and impecunious landlords with untilled farms; and in the -meantime I beg our boys not to remain idle but to work somehow, it does -not matter much at what, but at some work that will be good and must and -will find a market. - -If a lad is going into one of the learned professions it is necessary -that he go to college, where the expenses all told cannot be less than -300_l._ a year, but before he does so his father should seriously tell -him that whatever allowance he has is the extent of what he can give -him, and that under no circumstances whatever will he be responsible for -any debts of any sort or kind, and that doing what he is for him he is -doing his utmost, and that he would rather see him go through the -Bankruptcy Court than impoverish his sisters or his other brothers to -pay his extravagant liabilities. Let this be well talked over at home in -private, and I do not think the lad will place himself in the miserable -and anxious position of many a young man who ladens himself with debt -during his college life, which cripples all the best of his existence -and embitters his days in more ways than one; but the boy must have -parents on whom he can rely, and he must know that they mean absolutely -what they say. There can be nothing more unfair than for the girls to be -starved mentally and morally, and the younger lads badly educated, -because a parent has to pay debts which ought never to have been -contracted. - -Gambling debts should be utterly ignored by the parents, and gambling in -every shape and form should be absolutely forbidden, the reasons thereof -being plainly stated; and I think all parents should be more open about -their circumstances than they are to their children, who often get a -most erroneous impression about their people’s income, because of the -manner in which they live. Why! because they have a carriage and a big -house is the very reason why they can do no more, and why should the -parents give up all they have justly earned because their children are -extravagant? I see no reason myself, and I myself would certainly never -do so to pay extravagant liabilities, or liabilities incurred on the -gaming-table or on the racecourse. - -Give the boys a good education and a start in life, and provide the -girls with 150_l._ a year, either when they marry or at your own death, -and you have done your duty by your children. The girls cannot starve on -that income, and neither would they be the prey of any fortune-hunter; -but no one has a right to bring children into the world in the ranks of -the upper middle-class and do less; misery will come of it if he does, -be quite sure of that. - -Of course misfortunes may happen, and the parents’ early death may -prevent an actually safe future being secured for the children; but, as -a rule, an early death should be provided for by insurance, and -misfortunes, if undeserved, generally bring sympathy in their train, and -there are many mitigations, even for these, if parents are judicious and -have not flooded the world with an enormous family that they can have no -prospect whatever of providing for. As soon as the boys have finished -their education let them begin to work; a lawyer can begin; a doctor can -commence at once to wait for patients even if he cannot buy a practice, -which would be the best thing to do; a curacy can be procured for a -cleric, and if trades are chosen the sooner those trades are entered -into the better; but whatever is selected never allow idleness of any -shape or form. Idleness is the parent of all mischief. A man well and -healthily employed has neither time nor inclination to go very far -wrong. - -Let the boys be encouraged to have tastes, and above all let every lad -in England join some Volunteer Corps. I consider it a duty for every man -to be able, and to show himself willing, to protect his home, and if he -is encouraged at home he will volunteer, and will take an interest in -his work, which will be invaluable to him. The expeditions are pleasant; -all lads love a gun, and adore being able to shoot, and if the taste is -acquired in the school cadet corps it will continue afterwards; and -remember that all out-door sports and occupations are so many -safeguards--tennis, bicycling, volunteering, shooting, hunting, riding, -are all so many protections against temptations, to which all lads are -exposed, and on which of course it is impossible for me to speak here. - -To sum up the advice I would give about our boys, I would say that love -of home, love of sport (not racing, not battue, nor pigeon-shooting, nor -similar inanities, but _bonâ fide_ sport), and love of an out-door life, -are the great protection for the lads. Do not encourage theatre-going -and endless balls and society affectations, but do encourage in every -way you can those things of which I have been writing. I am sure then we -shall have a healthier and a better race than the ‘masher’ Gaiety -bar-lounger, for whom I have such a profound contempt, or than the -race-frequenting, betting, ‘lemon-squash’ consuming, nerveless, -brainless idiot that is so extremely prevalent in the present day. - -As soon as a lad is eighteen he ought to have some definite allowance -for all his small expenses and to enable him to clothe himself, and this -must depend entirely on his parents’ circumstances, and where he is and -what he is doing. Of course, if he should be placed in his father’s -business he must be paid for his services, and this pay must cover all -he spends; but as a rule 50_l._ is ample. A man can dress well and -decently on 30_l._, the other 20_l._ he can do what he likes with; and -he should be encouraged to save for a holiday in ‘foreign parts.’ He had -far better travel about than smoke his senses away, or waste his money -in going to theatres and in-door amusements of any kind. - -Boys are an endless anxiety, there is no doubt about that, and it is -greatly, no doubt, owing to that fact that the system of sending the -boys away to school has arisen; but although they are at school we -cannot get rid of our responsibilities, neither should we try to do so. -We are responsible for their existence, and we are bound to do the best -we can for them. We shall, I am sure, be rewarded for all they have cost -us, if we never relax our care until they are really grown up and are -capable of managing their own lives; then, if we have trained them to -love their home and to habits of work and occupation, we can do no more -but trust in Providence; we shall have our reward sooner or later, of -that I have not the smallest doubt. - -As soon as a man can keep a wife he should marry and begin to make a -home for himself. I am a great believer in early marriage, and I should -like all my boys to marry as soon as ever they can. There is nothing -teaches a man as the responsibility of marriage does, and nothing on -earth is happier than a happy marriage. It is the complement of life, -the perfect whole that all should strive to attain; about that subject I -am quite sure, and none of the stock arguments against marriage, nor the -stock jeers, will ever alter my opinion. Of course there are troubles, -if so they are borne better together; pleasures come, they are -brightened by having someone to share them; and above all, marriage -makes the home; the home gives an object in life and steadies at once, -therefore marriage should be encouraged in every way it can, and those -who are married should help on the marriage of others, and should show -by their own conduct and bearing that it is the best state on earth, if -undertaken out of pure love, not silly passion, and maintained in the -mutual respect, affection, and toleration for each other’s faults, which -are the very bonds of the home, and which last when every slighter bond -has given and fallen away. Once our boys are married we can breathe -again, at all events our active work for them is over; and the less we -interfere with them after that happy event the better chance will they -have of making a success of their lives. All we have to do is to win the -love and confidence of their wives, and that is not difficult if we -never offer advice on any subject, and give them as much affection as we -can. Above all must we resist the dear delight of talking over their -_ménage_ with other people. ‘A still tongue means a wise head,’ says -the proverb, and a tongue cannot possibly be too still, when once there -are sons and daughters-in-law in the family. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -SOME DOMESTIC DETAILS. - - -I think that I am more often consulted about how to manage servants, and -how to apportion an income, than on any other detail of domestic -management, and therefore I am of opinion that a few more words on these -subjects may not be out of place here, although, as I have repeatedly -stated elsewhere, no real help can be given by a stranger on either -matter, and that only a species of general rule can be laid down, either -about the management of the maids or how to set apart and divide the -income we may have to spend. To begin with the income: I have had two -scales drawn up by an accountant, and now present them here for what -they are worth. The first is the very smallest income that any two -people should marry upon, in my opinion; although I know many folks, -especially among the ranks of the clerics, who ought to know much -better, who continually do so, and as continually have numerous -families, for which they cannot provide in the least, and for which they -beg in the most shameless manner, and for whom I have neither sympathy -nor patience. As a rule these unfortunates live in the country and have -big gardens and houses found them rent free, but I have nothing to say -to them here, and, as I cannot conceive how ladies and gentlemen can -bring up, clothe, and feed their children, and manage their household -respectably on less than 800_l._ a year, I have no ideas on the subject, -and therefore cannot write on what I know nothing about. - -Let us therefore take the ordinary young lawyer or young man who is -‘something in the City,’ that unknown City, the occupations of which are -so mysterious in my eyes, and let us suppose he has 500_l._ to spend -every year, increasing, let us hope, should he indulge in the luxury of -a family; a luxury he has no more right to go in for on a tiny income -than he would have to set up a carriage and pair, without being able to -pay all the concomitant expenses; and this is how he should parcel out -his expenditure: - - £ _s.__d._ - House-rent in London 80 0 0 - Rates and taxes 20 0 0 - Repairs to house and furniture 30 0 0 - Two servants’ wages and keep 90 0 0 - Keep of self and wife, _at least_ 75 0 0 - Clothes for wife and pocket-money 50 0 0 - Clothes for husband, including his daily - luncheon and City journey 70 0 0 - Coals 6 0 0 - Life insurance 27 0 0 - Summer outing 12 10 0 - Washing 16 0 0 - ----------- - 476 10 0 - -Leaving: the magnificent sum of 24_l._ 10_s._ to cover doctors’ bills -and the thousand and one incidental expenses which are always cropping -up, to say nothing of amusement. One could hardly rise to the upper -boxes on 500_l._ a year if one must live in town and have appearances to -keep up as well. - -It is better at first, if the income is very small, to live in the -suburbs. There are not so many temptations to spend money, and there -would not be much going out. In London of course, the going out is -endless; there must be cabs, new gloves, flowers, and the hundred and -one extras that carry off one’s money, and two servants are a _sine quâ -non_. If the suburbs are selected, cabs and evening gloves, &c., need -not be legislated for; one servant could do the work; and the house-rent -and taxes would come to 50_l._ instead of 100_l._; but there would be -the husband’s season-ticket to consider, and furthermore the intense -dulness that is the wife’s portion, for suburban residents are not -hospitable; they are, most of them, not very well off, for of course all -rich people fly to London; they are mutually suspicious of each other’s -_bona fides_, and are, moreover, engrossed as a rule in their domestic -duties, and when the husband returns from town he is not only tired with -his work, but with the added railway journey; he usually hankers after -his garden in the summer and his arm-chair by the fire in the winter, -and does not care to go out, more especially as he judges from his own -feelings in the matter, and is quite sure his host wishes him at home in -bed quite as much as he wishes himself there. - -But, again, here I must show how impossible it is for another person to -really advise a friend on this subject of division of income -satisfactorily. There are plenty of suburban residents who are -absolutely satisfied with their fate, and are equal to the misfortune of -a small income. In that case I have told them precisely how they can -manage best on the sum of 500_l._ a year. I can assure them they will -have to be most economical and excellent managers to do that; and they -can furthermore understand that it costs about 50_l._ a year to add a -child to the establishment, and that 45_l._ a year is supposed to keep -and pay a servant. These two details will be of assistance, maybe, when -the income increases and the owners thereof contemplate a little -launching out. - -An income of 1,000_l._ a year should be apportioned as follows: - - £ _s._ _d._ - House 100 0 0 - Rates and taxes 33 0 0 - Repairs, renewals, &c. 50 0 0 - Two servants (rather better wages allowed) 100 0 0 - Keep of self and wife 100 0 0 - Wine, &c. 12 10 0 - Clothes and pocket-money for wife 75 0 0 - Clothes for husband 100 0 0 - Coals 10 0 0 - Insurance 50 0 0 - Summer outing 30 0 0 - Washing 26 0 0 - Balance for incidentals 313 10 0 - --------------- - 1,000 0 0 - -And this larger balance would be drawn, upon for the extra expenses, -such as entertaining and amusements, charities, and the thousand and one -pleasant ways of spending money that are open to the possessor of the -larger income, and are rigorously out of the reach of the owner of -500_l._ a year. - -Then, too, there are all sorts and conditions of things to consider -before laying down a law on the subject of apportioning the income; such -for example as the consideration if the income dies with the husband, -or if it may come from capital safely invested. In the former case the -insurance ought to be very largely increased, as that is the only -absolutely safe manner of saving one’s money. As a rule it costs about -27_l._ a year to insure the receipt of 1,000_l._ at death if the insurer -is a young man, and I ask all intending bridegrooms to consider what -this would mean if this be all the provision they can make for their -brides, supposing they were to die and leave them with two or three -little children and no other means. They could not live on 40_l._ a -year, which is about all they would receive, and I therefore do trust -all young men will seriously consider the matter before rushing into -matrimony. At present a great many folk are like the ostrich, they bury -their heads in the sands of present content and never consider the evil -days that are before them. If they remain two, no one can blame them, -but I do blame unendingly the selfish creatures who burden this -overcrowded world with more genteel paupers. If people on small incomes -insist on doing this, let them have the courage to bring up their -daughters as upper servants and their boys to good honest trades; it is -the genteel pauper, the girl who can paint a little, teach a little, and -embroider a little, and the boy who, come what may, must wear a black -coat or its equivalent in light tweeds, who have no right to be made to -exist, and for whom the world has absolutely nothing to offer save a -certain amount of snubs and a very large quantity of the unappetising -dish known as the cold shoulder. - -Therefore, if the income dies with the husband and there are children, a -certain amount of money must be put aside annually for insurance; it -ought to be enough to bring in 100_l._ a year to insure the wife from -starvation when she is too old, too worn with all she has had to do to -attempt to keep herself; and there should also be no false pride about -the manner in which the children are educated; they should go to Board -schools, where the teaching is excellent and far better than one can -procure at ordinary small schools, which may be much more ‘genteel’ but -will not be half as useful; for the Board schools are far and away -better than anything that could be obtained from the wretchedly -underpaid teachers who would be the girls’ portion. The necessary -companionship with wretchedly poor and dirty children, which is the -great drawback to a Board school education, could be mitigated if all -those who are really worthy of the Board school education were to share -it; and surely a good mother could tell her boys exactly what to avoid, -and the lads could come straight home and simply be taught in the -school. The girls would not need so much looking after, for they are far -more conservative naturally than boys: boys will play with and talk to -anyone; a girl very soon discriminates for herself, and will not play -with another if she suspects her to be in the very smallest degree below -her in the social scale. - -It will be observed that I do not in the least take a sentimental view -of life, for I feel that when one contemplates the terrible army of -martyrs, the girls who have been ‘genteelly’ brought up and are -‘genteelly’ starving or living on their most unwilling and hard-working -relations, one cannot say too much or write too much on this subject, -and I cannot also but think that when there is the cry in the land that -there undoubtedly is for more servants, more good and trustworthy -lassies to help us with our domestic duties, and that when ladies in -Australia are so pressed by their troubles and by the fact that they -cannot get ‘help’ for love or money that they are actually driven to -write to their papers to suggest that men may marry more wives than one, -because no one but a wife is found to do house work, and that one wife -is not sufficient for the purpose, it is quite time that the surplus -maidens should consider whether it is quite as impossible to become a -servant as it appears to be now. As decorators, governesses, and -spoilers of canvas, they are undoubtedly not wanted, but they are -required badly for simple domestic work, which is, none of it, half as -hard as unlimited tennis, dancing all night, or rowing: not any of it -half as unpleasant as is living on the begrudged charity of some -relation, who wants all his hard-earned savings for his own children, or -as degrading as is marrying the first man who asks them, and who can -give them some sort of a home, for whom they have not the smallest -respect--the very smallest amount of affection. - -Now, of course there are disagreeable details about house work, and -scrubbing cannot be pleasant, but surely the ‘scrubber’ could come in -daily and do up the worst of the ‘chores,’ as the Yankees say; and what -is the rest? Waiting at table, not half as unpleasant as selling at -fancy fairs; opening and answering the door, not half as hateful as -bringing one’s wretched little painted match-boxes and tambourines to an -overstocked guild, or a most unsympathising and equally overstocked -shopman, who is often far more impertinent than any caller ever could be -to the lowest maid in the establishment; and I personally should prefer -to make beds, wash china, dust rooms, and clean silver to hanging about -listlessly in a shabby frock, knowing quite well that I could never have -another unless some reluctant relation gave me one she would much rather -have given to her own children; and I cannot recollect any duties which -would be expected from the girls which I have not enumerated above, or -that they could not honestly undertake in a sheltered home and under -proper matronly care. - -And if all servants were ladies--and I see no reason why every servant -should not be a lady if she tries--think how much more our houses would -be our own than they are at present! Even with the best of maids there -are always places in it and corners where we feel we cannot go exactly -when and where we like, and where, try as we will, we cannot be -absolutely sure that thorough cleanliness prevails and where, moreover, -we cannot be ‘decorative’ because all our efforts are frustrated by -those who cannot shake off their early training and can no more refrain -from smashing china and scraping paper off the walls than they can learn -to trust us implicitly and in their turn allow us to trust them. - -Remember, I personally never can nor will join in the fearful outcry -against the maids which I hear on all sides of me. I have related my own -experiences in Vol. I. of this book, ‘From Kitchen to Garret’ and I have -not one word to add or take from what I have said there. I still -maintain, if you take your servants young and train them yourself, and -if you don’t expect perfection and show that you mean to be obeyed, you -will have no trouble; but you will never have perfect service until you -can have ladies in your house, whose ladyhood will ensure the perfect -trustworthiness, the honesty, the cleanliness that no cottage-bred girl -can ever give, because she can never be taught to really comprehend the -necessity of all these particulars. - -Mrs. Crawshay’s scheme of lady helps has, I believe, quite collapsed; at -all events, one hears nothing about it now; but I see no reason why an -earnest effort should not be made to try sending our superfluous girls -to Australia as lady helps, and then, if that succeeds, trying them in -England, where there seems to me to be a real and crying want of good -domestic servants. I am only judging from other people’s woes; for, -although I dare say I have mine before me, I have not experienced them -yet, and have always been able to find what I wanted without any undue -exertion on my part. Of course the house would have to be reorganised to -some extent. The bedrooms would have to be as fresh and pretty as one -could make them; and, above all, we must reform our kitchens, which are -at present the most unhealthy, disagreeable, and odious rooms in the -whole house, as they are undoubtedly the ugliest, and where, in ordinary -households, the unfortunate maids have winter and summer to sit while -the cooking is done, and in heat that I wonder allows them to live at -all, and that must exasperate their tempers as much as it must try their -constitutions. - -Now let us consider the ideal house and the ideal kitchen, and I cannot -see myself why both should not exist; let us build our washing-stands so -that hot and cold water are able to be turned into the basin which can -overtip and empty itself; smaller conveniences could be managed in the -same manner, and all the housemaid would have to do would be to wipe out -the basins daily, to sweep up the pieces with the ‘Ewbank’ -carpet-sweeper, which makes no dust and picks up every morsel off the -floor, to make the beds and dust, the very making of the beds being -simplified by the chain and hair mattresses now general. All that has to -be done is to turn the mattress daily, to spread the under blanket and -sheet absolutely smoothly over it and tuck them in, to replace the -bolster and pillows, and the over supply of blankets, &c., carefully -straightened and tucked in. Is that harder than tennis, more menial, -forsooth, than living on one’s relations, or husband-hunting genteelly -under the greatest of all difficulties, the difficulty of looking nice -and merry, and being good-tempered, on absolutely no means at all? - -Now let us take the ideal kitchen, the kitchen as made and designed by -Mr. G. Faulkner Armitage, of Stamford House, Altrincham, Cheshire, who -has most kindly drawn for me the different pieces of furniture with -which he decorates this charming room of his, and which, in the -Manchester Exhibition, were stained green and decorated with brass -hinges and locks, and see how we could adapt this to our present style -of house, the house with the tiny kitchen, the smaller laundry, pantry, -and scullery, and where there is not an atom of sitting-room apart from -where all the work is going forward. In that case is it worth while to -make a pretty room, and if we do can it be possibly kept so? I think it -can, even with our present maids, whose taste for the beautiful is not -largely developed; it most certainly could if we are given the maid of -the future, the real lady-maid, who may come forward to the rescue of -those unhappy beings who at present haunt the precincts of registry -offices and spend small fortunes on advertisements which can have only -the most barren results. - -But before I go on to speak of the ideal kitchen and the cook of the -future; who will hardly concern my readers, as she is not born at -present, or if she be is certainly not ready for engagement, I should -like to say a few words about the best manner to obtain servants, -repeating continually that if we require good ones we must take them -ourselves and train them ourselves. I am always met, when I state this -fact, by the unanswerable argument, ‘I have neither time nor patience to -teach my servants; I can pay good wages. I want to engage skilled -labour.’ Skilled labour may be had for money, there is no doubt, but the -person who engages her maids on these lines will never have good or -affectionate servants. She will be waited on, dressed, cooked for -admirably, no doubt, but she will obtain nothing beyond her mere -bargain. For better wages, a more aristocratic place, her cook will -leave her in the lurch, despite the fact that she may expect to be laid -up or to have most particular and important visitors at the very period -when the old maid departs and the new one comes in. Her nurse will -extract her pound of flesh in the shape of holidays and outings, whether -the baby is teething or not, or whether the children are all miserable -with colds, or she herself long to lie down with a bad headache. The -housemaid will go to her ‘church or chapel,’ to her promenade with her -ever-changing young man, whether she has unexpected guests or not; and -she will never know the extreme bliss and comfort of possessing friends -in the kitchen, who give up their own holidays because they are sure -their mistress is not fit to be left, who regard the children as if they -were as much theirs as they are the mistress’s, and who finally think of -her and hers, and her comfort, as she does herself. No mere hired help -will do all this. You must have maidens whom you have carefully trained; -you must take trouble--aye, and never-ending trouble--about them, unless -you wish to join the ranks of those who are always abusing their maids -and yet would not lift their fingers to assist themselves. And then, -again, you must undoubtedly train yourself at the same time not to -expect perfection. - -Think of our own girls. Are they always to be trusted at tennis and at -balls to maintain that serene and demure deportment which of course we -always did, and which we naturally expect from our daughters, especially -where young men are concerned? - -Do they never flirt? Are they never found missing at critical moments, -for example, when the carriage is at the door, and Paterfamilias is -divided between anxiety for his horses and wrath at being kept waiting? -Do foolish little notes never pass? Are flowers never given to the most -detrimental youths of one’s acquaintance? And finally, do our own -daughters always keep men at arm’s length? Are they always truthful, -always obliging, always careful about their own rooms and the things -which are committed to their charge? - -I leave each mother to answer for her own daughters. I should not like -to answer for all the girls I know, and I seem to remember episodes in -my own past (was it mine, or did it belong to some one I once knew very -well indeed, I wonder?) which I should rather not confide to my -daughter, and indeed which I should not care to hold up to her as an -example of what all girls should do, and which often make me very kind -to the maids when I meet them promenading with the youth who calls for -orders or the man whom I scarcely recognise out of his livery; and it is -far better to know such things will happen, and to keep a kindly eye -over these affairs, than to scold vigorously and declare that whatever -happens no followers of any sort or kind shall enter your chaste abode. -Neither should they until the engagement is a _bonâ-fide_ one, and one -that you know is allowed and smiled upon by the girl’s parents. This you -should ascertain for yourself--another reason for taking your maids -young and from a family of whose antecedents you know something from -your own observation. And I never think much harm can happen from these -promenades if great stress is laid upon the fact that all must be at -home after dark, and that in winter no one must stay out after 8.30. -Then the house door should be locked and the key brought upstairs, -either in town or country; there is always the front door to come to, -and there is no reason why everyone should not come to that. - -I am no advocate either of very hard and fast rules, and I maintain that -it is very difficult to make, and still more difficult to keep, set -regulations which circumstances may alter at any given moment. The only -thing that must be insisted on is punctuality; without punctuality no -household can go on, no establishment can be in the very least degree -managed or carried on. The servants become slovenly; and it is -impossible to get through the work, because no one knows when the meals -are to be, or when the beds can be made. Therefore, the first rule, and -indeed the only really important rule, is that which makes the meals -regular, and the attendance thereat compulsory on all members of the -family, children and temporary members, such as visitors, alike. After -that, and when we have demonstrated how the work is to be done, we -should stand aside and not interfere unless it is absolutely necessary; -then a few quiet words are enough. Whatever you do, do not ‘nag;’ a -servant that requires acrimonious scolding and continual ‘telling’ had -better go, and another should be had at once. - -The best way to find a servant (if your ‘place’ has a good name) is to -inquire among the tradesmen. If a good servant is leaving her place, she -always tells the butcher and baker; she never goes to a registry office. -If she is leaving to better herself, her mistress can soon find her a -place among her own friends; there would be no need for her to go -elsewhere, and I do not think a really first-rate maid ever goes -anywhere except to her mistress or to the tradespeople, who are all -delighted to help her to find what she wants. An advertisement in the -‘Guardian’ or ‘Morning Post’ is another excellent means of obtaining a -recommended servant, and I hope some day to find that the clergyman’s -wife in each country parish will turn herself into an amateur registry -office for all the young girls under her husband’s charge. She should -teach them in the kitchen and nursery and train them in nice ways, and -be always possessed of some maiden she can send out into a better place. -Of course the Girls’ Friendly Society does something of the kind, but -the good that it does is largely discounted by the evil ways of many of -the ‘associates,’ who cannot help interfering egregiously and stupidly, -and so bringing what ought to be an absolutely perfect organisation into -contempt. - -In London there is only one way of finding good servants, and that is by -advertising in either of the papers I have suggested, saying ‘Apply by -letter only,’ or else the advertiser will be inundated with a class of -persons who apply on the chance of picking up something in the hall, or -of getting their ‘expenses’ paid. No unknown person should ever be left -alone for a moment in the hall, and on no consideration should anyone -pay the ‘expenses,’ which often exist in the imagination only, and would -be amply recouped were twopence handed over to the applicant to cover -her omnibus fare; that even should be given with caution, for, absurd as -it may sound, there are people who exist on applying for situations, -which they accept and give excellent references to empty houses, and -promise to come in at once, to commence the duties required immediately. -The mistress, overjoyed at the idea of securing such a treasure, gladly -pays the fare to some country station, to be refunded, of course, out of -the first quarter’s salary, and goes off for the treasure’s character, -when she promptly discovers she has been done, and that if such a house -does exist at all it is either closed entirely or lived in by someone -who has never heard of the treasure, who naturally is also not to be -found at the home address, that was given so glibly and written down so -very carefully. - -A written character should also never be taken. The most exquisite -handwriting, the best of all note-paper, duly embellished with a crest, -address, and monogram complete, are no safeguard, for servants have been -known to steal note-paper, and in these days of universal education a -good hand is not to be trusted in the least. Even if the family with -whom the servant lived has gone abroad--and this is the favourite reason -always given when a written character is produced--there must be some -relation or friend of the last employer still left in England who would -not object to speak for a maid, who if worth anything at all must be -known to someone outside the mere inner circle of the house itself; and -this should be insisted on, especially in London, where an unknown -servant is often the friend of the gentle burglar, and can do an immense -amount of mischief. Indeed, when I thoroughly sift the numerous -complaints which reach me about servants, I invariably find them caused -by the fact that the maid has either been procured by a registry office -or taken with only a written character in the most careless way, and -with not half the precautions we should take before we engaged ourselves -to call on a new comer to our especial district. We demand very strict -credentials from anyone we admit to our house as a mere acquaintance; we -let anyone into the house to live as a servant who can produce any scrap -of writing, or procure any registry-office keeper to speak for her -capabilities and character. - -I am not speaking without due thought on the matter. Of course there are -absolutely trustworthy registry offices, and some written characters may -be genuine; but as a rule neither is to be trusted, and it is far better -to do one’s household work oneself than to engage someone of whom we -know no more than can be told us by an individual eager for the hiring -fee, or from a bit of paper probably written on by the applicant -herself. - -I actually know a case where the mistress had to go into the -neighbouring town to search for a cook who had been missing for -twenty-four hours, and who found her locked up in the police court for -drunkenness and riotous behaviour, and who discharging her on the spot -was surprised to find the woman a few weeks after in a friend’s house. -The registry-office people had answered for her character; although the -first mistress had taken the trouble to place the report of the case in -the local papers in the registrar’s hands, and the cook was in -possession, needless to remark that she broke out again and is no doubt -carrying on her practices in another confiding mistress’s house at this -very moment. - -A written character introduced a butler into a friend’s house, which he -promptly burned to the ground in a fit of blind drunkenness, while -another servant in another house was found in the act of carefully -concealing a burglarious parent in a convenient cupboard; and indeed I -do not think I am exaggerating when I say that every case of ‘bad -servant’ that is brought under my notice originates in either of these -two particulars, and that if due care, aye, and even what may appear as -_undue_ care, is taken about the manner in which a servant is engaged we -shall soon hear far fewer complaints than we do at present; while by -raising the tone of our maids and ensuring that only really -good-charactered servants will be employed, we shall get a better class -of girl to take to service, and we shall thin the ranks of unemployed -dressmakers, telegraph clerks, and shop-girls, and shall bring them back -to the sheltered, safe, untempted lives that are the portions of all -those who are in good places, under the care of conscientious and -thoughtful mistresses. - -I think many writers--Mr. Besant, for example--have done great harm by -the manner in which domestic service has been run down; and when I am -called on to pity and weep over the case of the ‘sweated’ sempstress, -the underpaid, unsettled governess, the miserable shop-girl, who cannot -sit down and to whom all sorts of unpleasant internal miseries happen -because of her hard work, I absolutely refuse to do so. There are plenty -of good sheltered homes waiting for these girls, either here or in -Australia, where they can be fed and well looked after, where they have -every comfort, and where they are as absolutely safe as if they were in -a palace, indeed, much safer, as maids in palaces are left much to their -own devices and can get into as much mischief as they please, and there -is therefore no reason for their unhappiness save and except the absurd -one of wishing to be their own mistresses. - -‘Freedom! I want my freedom. I would rather starve than be obliged to -brush my hair neatly, to give up my drowned ostrich feather, my screams -of unbridled laughter in the streets, the delicious joy of trailing up -and down a gas-lighted road, and, in fact, of being my own mistress.’ -That is the argument put into the mouth of the factory girl, only, of -course, in not quite such plain language, and much applauded. Now, if -so, don’t ask me to weep over the girl who talks like this, because I -shall not do it. Freedom is about the worst thing in the world for a -young girl. She requires a guiding hand, as, indeed, in my opinion, all -women require one, all through their lives; and, after all, who is freer -and less trammelled than a good servant in a good place? She has no -anxieties, no troubles. Whatever happens, her wages are paid to the day, -and her food is unfailing. Indeed, when troubles are disporting -themselves in the drawing-room the maids seem to think ‘more food and -oftener’ an excellent panacea. And she can have her holidays and her -walks too whenever they can be managed; while for the large class of -girl who becomes, or rather wants to become, a nursery governess, are -there not endless other situations crying out for them, where as upper -nurses, ladies’ maids, or good cooks they could be sure of occupation -and of ending their days in comfort, having been able to save, which -they could never have done on the 15_l._ a year of the ordinary nursery -governess, who does all the mending and bathing, and, indeed, in some -cases, much more of it than falls to the share of an upper nurse, who -yet ranks below the governess, because she is a servant. - -Now, I think that, if the young people who marry on about 300_l._ a -year, and can only afford one maid, would try this plan of engaging some -girl who cannot get a situation as nursery governess, and work together -with her, they would be far more comfortable than they otherwise would -be. All their things are new and pretty, the bedroom nice, the kitchen -fresh and comfortable. A young bride on a small income must help with -the cooking and bed-making. Surely this would be much more pleasantly -carried out if the maid were in some measure a friend. I can assure you -that old-fashioned servants I know have far better claims to be -considered of a good family than dozens of girls who pitchfork -themselves into the governess ranks, and consider themselves members of -the aristocracy from that date. - -To sum up, then, our case: if we require a comfortable house we must -take our servants young and train them ourselves, or we must be very -sure that the servant is what she claims to be, and that the character -she is provided with is a good one; and, finally, we must endeavour to -refill the ranks of upper and better-class servants from the -overstocked ones of nursery governesses and unoccupied girls, whose -parents have not provided for them, and who are unable to do a single -thing by which they can in any measure help themselves. - -There are stupid, careless, and even unkind mistresses in the world, but -as a rule servants are considered and very kindly dealt with, and there -can be no reason why a girl should refuse a sheltered home and work that -is not as hard as many other kinds of labour, and that should be amusing -and pleasant, in a small household, or even in a large one, where the -housekeeper is a lady and the upper servants are distinct and separate; -a nurse of course having her own rooms and being waited on far more than -is the governess, who after all in the eyes of the domestics is neither -one thing nor another, and has often enough to go without or see after -her own comforts. - -But until that halcyon day arrives we must, as I remarked just now, be -very particular about the maid’s references, and we ought then, if -possible, to make the acquaintance of her mother, and also, if we can -manage it, of the clergyman who prepared her for confirmation. Of course -this means trouble. Yes, it does, but not half as much trouble as is -caused in the endless procession of new servants which passes through so -many houses, leaving behind it traces of its progress in the shape of -ruined brooms and brushes, burned-out saucepans, smashed crockery, and -bladeless knives, all of which must be replaced as one goes out and -another comes in, in a manner which almost ruins the unfortunate master -and enrages the mistress proportionally. - -And now to turn to the question of how to make the kitchen a little -pleasanter than it is at present, especially in those houses where there -is no servants’ hall. The best of cooks only succeeds in making her room -look spotlessly clean and absolutely uninteresting; there is nothing -pretty about it, and there is, as a rule, nothing save the ordinary hard -Windsor chair on which to sit. This is quite right and what it should -be; but besides that there could be an easier chair for the tired -servant, who presumably can get quite as fatigued as we can, and for -whom we could provide a low-backed chair with cushions (easily taken out -and washed) once we have come to the conclusion that she is - -[Illustration: FIG. 17.--An Ideal Kitchen.] - -likely to stay with us and that she is to be trusted not to make hay -with it. - -Our artist has made a sketch of ‘an ideal kitchen’ from Mr. Faulkner -Armitage’s designs, which I hope will some day be the kitchen of the -future. Here the dresser and mantel-piece arrangement provide for all -the necessary pots and pans, while the furniture is as simple as it is -pretty, and in consequence has an artistic effect which is really -charming. - -This furniture is stained malachite green or russet brown, whichever is -preferred; with the green furniture, the tiled paper on the wall, which -is much nicer to live with than mere colour-wash and is quite as clean, -as it can be wiped over with a damp duster quite easily, should be red -and white, and the paint a dark shade of red; with the brown, the paper -should be blue and white, and the paint a good blue, and all along the -wall on the floor should be a two-inch band of wood; this keeps the -chairs away from the wall; but if the base of the wall becomes shabby a -dado of oilcloth can always be added with a real dado rail; this keeps a -wall tidy for years, and can always be washed, and finally painted over -should the pattern crack or become in any measure worn and untidy. The -ordinary boarded kitchen should be covered entirely with a good, -well-seasoned linoleum, and a square of carpet lined with a thin -American cloth should be given to the cook to place down on Sundays, or -after the worst of the work is over; this gives a finished and furnished -look to the room, and adds a great deal to the comfort of the maids. A -stone floor should be painted with Hoskyn’s Ben Trovato red, and some -rugs laid down at all times, as this is very bad to stand upon. I had -linoleum laid all over the only stone floor I ever possessed, and that -answered excellently; it was put down so that it adhered to the stone in -some manner, and lasted a very great many years in excellent condition; -but should anyone object to this I can also recommend a square of -Treloar’s cocoa-nut matting, bound all round with a wide binding; but -this should be rolled back for cooking, as grease adheres to it -dreadfully and soon makes it shabby. - -The kitchen windows are always rather a trouble to arrange, as generally -they are basement windows, and muslin so soon gets out of order with the -steam and general mess; but if the cook takes pride in her windows and -likes to wash her curtains herself there is no reason why she should not -have the same kind of white curtains that there are in the bedrooms; but -let all come from the top of the window, half-blinds being dreadful, and -looking worse, in my opinion, than no blinds at all. In windows on a -level with the garden or street one must have obscured glass, either -cathedral or ribbed glass. This, of course, is rather hard on the maids, -who are not thus able to look out, but it cannot be helped: it is -impossible for the kitchen to be so much in evidence as it otherwise -would be, and no muslin is as effective a screen as the obscured glass -is. - -There should always be inside bars and shutters to any basement or -ground-floor windows, and nothing should be kept downstairs which can -possibly or in any way tempt the prowling burglar. All silver should be -taken upstairs to the master’s room, and there should be a small dog -loose downstairs; a dog frightens a thief dreadfully, as he is quite as -much afraid of his bark as ever he is of his bite. - -The basement in a London house is often a dreadful possession, as there -are so many places where a thief could conceal himself in the daytime. -No doors, then, should ever be left unbolted; and the master should, -furthermore, make a practice of going round the very last thing at night -to see that all is safe, or else there can be no security at all. -Sometimes the servants may descend again and hold unholy revels; -sometimes an open or unguarded door leaves access to the place; and an -unexpected visit from a tramp may alarm us as much as would a -professional visit from a burglar. We cannot impress this on our -servants too often, and we impress it on them a thousand times more -forcibly than we otherwise should when they see our nightly patrol, and -know we have supplemented their bolts with a visit of inspection. Then -the door at the top of the stairs should be bolted, barred, and locked, -and the key removed. This should be given into the care of the butler if -there be one, or into the safe keeping of the cook; and we may retire to -rest feeling safe that even if the tramp comes, or the thief is in -hiding below, he will remain in the lower regions, and can do nothing -worse than have a feast in the larder or break a few panes of glass in -his efforts to escape. - -It will seem to my readers that one has to take endless trouble, to see -perpetually about endless trifles, as long as we are householders, and -have the management of a family on our hands. Yet once started on good -lines, and matters are not so difficult as they appear; still, of -course, no life of great responsibility--indeed, no life at all--can -ever be entirely happy and entirely easy. Those who have least to do -become bored and tired by mere inactivity; those who have most, wearing -out instead of rusting out. - -All comes to an end some day; there is no doubt about that. Strive as we -may, death waits for us all, and our carefully trained household falls -apart and drifts away; our furniture wears out, our carefully amassed -hoards are turned over and parted among our successors; some one else -takes our house, and obliterates with his personality the last traces of -ours; and if we have refused to do our work, or let things slide, we -shall speedily be forgotten; but if we have honestly done our work, what -of it? Our maids carry on our good lessons elsewhere; our hoards make -someone else happy, and the example we have set bears fruit a -hundredfold, and someone is always happier, some household better for -the work we have done. No matter, then, if we have fallen out of the -ranks, tired out; we have done our work, and so can retire gracefully, -being quite sure that none of our trouble is wasted, and that not one of -us has toiled in vain. - -And I maintain that we cannot ever take too much trouble about our -homes, that we cannot have them too pretty or too well managed, and -that, moreover, once they are started, they are easy to keep going, -always supposing that we have regular ways and rules, that we do not -muddle, and that we pass over nothing that requires attention, let it be -a braid off a chair, or the misdemeanour or disobedience of a servant or -child; the one should be mended, the other spoken to at once, then -things will go on like clockwork, and we shall be fairly astonished to -find how well things progress and how admirably they manage themselves. - -Start well, start carefully, and then all one has to do is to steer -straight; after all, steering is not very hard work, and that is all one -has to do once the ship is fairly loaded and under way. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE SICK ROOM. - - -In all large houses there ought undoubtedly to be some provision for -infectious illness. Of course I know that there are excellent fever -hospitals, where one can be despatched at almost a moment’s notice, -where an ambulance will deposit you, and where the best nursing and -doctoring can be had at a most moderate outlay; and I, for one, highly -applaud those courageous souls who telegraph for the proper conveyance, -and depart, cutting themselves off from their homes, and at the same -time from any chance of handing on their complaints elsewhere, with one -fell swoop. But, much as I admire and applaud, nothing would, I fear, -induce me to follow their laudable example. To know how to be ill is a -fine art, and this accomplishment is quite thrown away on those who -regard one merely as a ‘case,’ and talk about one as if one were a mere -chattel left with them to repair, and return with the utmost speed. -Moreover, I maintain always that one’s bodily health depends immensely -on one’s surroundings, and that it would take double the time to get -better in a hospital than one would in one’s own home, where one could -see one’s friends out of the window and catch even a far-off whisper of -what was happening, and see even from the greatest distance some of -one’s old, accustomed sights. In an ordinary house, as at present -arranged, it would be absolutely impossible to have even the smallest -amount of infectious disease without running the greatest risk of -handing it on to all the rest of the family; but there could be in most -houses such arrangements made, were the builder a man of sense, that we -could have a hospital room, a room sufficiently isolated to ensure -immunity from infection, and yet near enough to do away with the -hopeless feeling which seizes the ordinary mortal the moment he hears he -has ‘something catching,’ and which enables him to understand what were -the feelings of the lepers of old, who had to flee from the sight of -their fellow-creatures, calling out aloud as they ran, ‘Unclean! -unclean!’ Of course we ought not to feel angry with those who refuse to -come near us; indeed, had I my way no one should ever enter a house -where there was small-pox, scarlatina, or diphtheria; but we do resent -it somehow, despite our own common sense and the knowledge that we -should forbid the call our friends are so anxious not to make if they -attempted to come near us; and there is no more miserable feeling than -that which seizes us when we are told that we have a complaint in our -midst which may prevent us from being on the same footing as the rest of -mankind for several weary weeks, or may be months. But, before going -into the matter of what we should do when infection is in our house, let -me for a moment speak about the room we should all of us possess ready -for an emergency and into which we could retire were we ill at all, not -only ‘infectious’ but ill in such a way that we may require careful -nursing, many fires, and absolute quiet and rest. - -We should select a room at the top of the house unless we are building -our house; in that case we should have a couple of rooms added on at one -end, with a bathroom, lavatory, and tiny kitchen range in a third room. -This should make a sort of annexe to the house; it should be reached -from outside, and a passage, closed at one end with a plate-glass door, -should communicate with the rest of the house. I once knew such an -arrangement as this, and have always hankered after it, more especially -as it allowed one member of a family of eight children to have scarlet -fever at home without in the least endangering the lives of any others -of the family, while the mother could see the child daily through the -plate-glass door, although she could not nurse her herself. She ran -absolutely no risk; the plate-glass door was as safe as the solid wall, -and over it always hung a sheet steeped in carbolic acid. The child was -nursed among familiar surroundings; the doctor could visit it without -passing through the house; all the food could be placed so that the -nurse received it without the smallest risk, and, in fact, the -arrangement was so absolutely perfect that I cannot understand why -possessors of large houses and good means do not always keep some rooms -of the kind ready. No family can go through life without illness; it is -much easier to bear when all is prepared for it, and there is no -dreadful domestic upset to add to our natural anxiety and trouble when -illness comes upon us all. - -Now, given such houses as these, or even the single room quite at the -top of the house, which would be next best (and although these have -their disadvantages, they are generally quieter than any other), I -should proceed to decorate them prettily. I should paint the walls -first, and then I should paper them with the very cheapest blue paper I -could find. I think Maple’s 4½_d._ blue and white paper would be best, -and I should have ivory paint, the 4½_d._ a piece white and yellow -ceiling paper, and curtains of 1_s._ 6_d._ a yard serge in art blue -double. There is nothing here which cannot be replaced at a very small -cost; yet everything would look pretty and bright and fresh; and I -should have the floor parqueterie or else covered with matting and rugs. -The rugs could be removed in a moment if anything infectious were the -matter, while the matting could be disinfected or destroyed; but this -should remain. It smells fresh, it never accumulates the dust, and -always looks nice, in my opinion. In illness looks are everything, and -it is absolutely necessary for things to be neat and pretty; else the -patient will be worried to death without really understanding why he is -being worried. - -The bed should be a good wide one--a double one. This gives room for the -patient to move about in. It should have a wire mattress and a good hair -mattress at the top, four pillows, and a bolster, and it should have an -ample supply of venerable blankets for under use. Those for over use -should depend on what is the matter. New blankets and an eider-down are -lighter and warmer than anything, and if these are required they must be -had, even if afterwards they have to be destroyed. There should be no -washing or dressing apparatus visible (these can be kept in the -lavatory), but there should be two or three of the stained wooden chairs -sold by Pither, 38 Mortimer Street, W., which are comfortable enough for -the doctor and an occasional visitor or for the nurse on duty (too much -comfort often induces sleep), and which can be wiped over daily. There -should also be a wide, deep wicker armchair, nicely cushioned, and there -should be a long chair for the invalid, where he or she could rest while -the bed is made or remain when convalescence has begun, and the bed may -be left for some hours at least. The long deck chairs are not suitable -for this purpose, as, being made of wicker, they creak in the most awful -manner, and are not comfortable in the least; but there are some long -narrow beds used as camp beds, which can be put up at any angle, and -have an iron frame filled in with sacking, on which a cushion is placed. -This makes the most comfortable lounge of which I know, and should be in -every sick room or room set apart for the purpose of nursing. They can -be bought at almost any ironmonger’s, or at any place which caters for -Volunteers or those who do any luxurious camping out. There should be -pictures on the walls, and a bookcase, and above all there should be a -screen of some kind or other. The pictures should be of the cheapest; -some of those lately issued by the ‘Illustrated News’ people, which -resemble old Bartolozzi prints, would do admirably, as the frames could -be disinfected, the glass washed, and the pictures themselves destroyed. -The bookcase could be varnished or re-Aspinalled, and the books burned. -Books are fearful methods of conveying infection, and carelessness about -this cannot be too harshly condemned. It is far better to destroy -everything, no matter how precious it may be, than run the very smallest -risk of passing on even what may be considered a mild complaint, for -that which is mild in one patient often causes death or great suffering -in another whose constitution is unfitted to cope with that special -disease. - -Once the room is ready and looking pretty, the next care must be to see -that it is kept properly aired and that nothing gets out of order, and -that all the things for use are in their places; then we need not think -any more about the room, which should be under the charge of the -head-nurse of the establishment; but, especially where there are -children, it is absolutely necessary that we should be prepared for -emergencies, and know exactly what to do should there be any necessity -for prompt action. There are a series of rules printed by the National -Health Society, which should be hung up in every nursery, and there -should be, moreover, a box containing simple remedies for sprains -(arnica), cuts (calendula), and burns (oiled silk, oil, and cotton -wool), and the nurse should keep the key. But, whatever happens, her -remedies can only be temporary ones; all her instructions should end -like those to the ambulance experts, ‘Send for the doctor.’ - -Now, although I am certainly no advocate for constantly sending for the -doctor, and though I maintain that for small children a good nurse is -worth all the doctors under the sun, I do maintain that immense comfort -and safety are procured by an early visit from the doctor if we are -fearful that anything is wrong above the common. But I maintain equally -strongly that to be able to do this we must be very sure of our man; we -must be able to trust him, and we must be quite certain that he is an -honest man, who will not trespass on our credulity or fatten on our -fears, and who will have the necessary courage to tell us straight out -that we have nothing to fear and that we need not send for him again, or -at least that he will not come again until we do send for him. Above -all, let us, if possible, keep to the same doctor. Nothing is more -stupid than to change him, unless we are absolutely obliged to do so, -for he understands his patients’ constitutions if he has always had to -see after them. A new man cannot possibly do so at first, and much more -depends on a doctor understanding what he has to deal with, as far as -heredity is concerned, than one quite comprehends. People would not be -quite so ready to change their medical attendant as they very often seem -to me to be if they thoroughly believed in this. - -And now comes the great subject of nursing. I was much amused the other -day to see an indignant article from someone who abused the present -generation of mothers because they did not nurse their children -themselves in cases of infection, and because their first idea in an -emergency was to send for a nurse. Now I maintain that that is the very -wisest thing anyone can do. A mother, as a rule, is the worst person in -the world to nurse her own child; her fearful anxiety makes her nervous -and communicates itself to the patient, who ought never to know that -anyone is the least anxious about him. Her face betrays her, and her -shaking hands play her false, and on a thousand grounds it is far better -to have a trained nurse than to trust to unskilled though loving -nursing. A mother may never have had the smallest experience of nursing -until she is called upon to exercise any little talent she may have for -it on behalf of her nearest and dearest. She becomes frantically -miserable at symptoms a nurse understands, and are often enough symptoms -for good; she cannot raise a patient and give him food comfortably, as -does a woman trained to the work, and she cannot be the ‘half-doctor’ -all nurses ought undoubtedly to be, and indeed are nowadays, unless she -has had training; a course of training, by the way, which would be most -distasteful to many and absolutely impossible to the few. - -A nurse is born, not made; of that I am absolutely convinced from my own -experience. I do not think anything would make me personally fit to -nurse anyone, much as I should like to do it. Were I called upon to turn -nurse I could undoubtedly keep a room neat, smooth a pillow, and fold a -sheet over properly; but I stand by in amaze and watch a friend of mine -who has never been trained, but is a born nurse, who knows exactly how -to lift her patient, when and how to give beef-tea and medicine, and who -does easily and without effort what I cannot do at all, try as hard as I -may to follow her excellent example. She may be anxious, she never shows -it in the least; she may be tired to death, she does not look it; her -voice is always at the right pitch, and though she naturally is not -merry when there is danger, she maintains an even cheerfulness which is -delightful, and as restful to the patient as it is most undoubtedly -restful and reassuring to the patient’s friends. Now, sentiment -apart--and sentiment should never be considered in the very least degree -where real work has to be done--surely my friend is better able to -nurse, and a much safer nurse, than I should be; I, who have honestly -and seriously tried to overcome my stupidity and dread of sick people, -and who visited at a hospital regularly until I was utterly and -completely routed by seeing a man in a fit, since when I have avoided -hospitals and have quite come to the conclusion I should never be a -nurse. Therefore, is it not wiser for people in real cases of dangerous -illness to engage women who understand their work? I am convinced it is, -and strongly recommend anyone who is advised by the doctor to send for a -nurse to do so. He will always be able to tell them where to send; if -not, they can find any amount of addresses in that most useful and -excellent little book ‘Dickens’s Dictionary of London.’ But the doctor -should find the nurse in infectious cases, for, as a rule, he knows -someone with whom he has worked already, and of course these nurses have -to be sent for in a hurry; one does not make preparations for and look -out for fevers as one does when a small baby is expected; about that I -have said all I have to say in my other book, and shall not therefore -say anything here on that absorbing subject. - -Everybody should remember that illness, instead of deadening our -faculties, undoubtedly and at once heightens every one we possess. We -see more acutely most certainly; our smell and taste are exaggerated in -the most painful degree, and little annoyances and inferior cooking, -which we scarcely notice, or indeed notice not at all, when we are well, -try us most dreadfully. If we are to eat at all, all must be absolutely -clean and free from grease, and sent up spotlessly; there must not be a -suspicion of carelessness, or inevitably we shall turn against the food -and send it down untouched. Likewise, creaking shoes, rustling paper, -banging doors, crooked pictures, dusty tables and chairs must not exist -where there are invalids; and, above all, I am convinced that until a -person is actually and positively dead no one should talk about them -over their bodies, thinking they are insensible. I am certain that -insensible people, so called, are often far more sensitive than either -doctor or nurse will allow, and I know I myself have often heard things -which were never meant for me to hear when people have thought me -asleep, but when I have really simply been too tired to open my eyes; -and I shall never forget the expression that flitted across the face of -a dear old lady who was absolutely dying, who had not swallowed for two -days, or spoken for a great many more, when her daughter and maid spoke -of the mourning and funeral by her bedside heartlessly. She heard and -understood, although she undoubtedly had no power of letting us know -that she did so. And I, moreover, have been told by a cousin whose -recovery from a frightful attack of blood-poisoning was miraculous, and -who most certainly was merely saved from death by her doctor’s -unremitting care and the excellent nursing she received from him--he -never left her once for over forty-eight hours--that she knew absolutely -everything that went on, that she heard every single word and whisper, -and that she most certainly would never say a word in the presence of -any ‘insensible’ person that could pain or agitate him in the least, -for when she appeared most insensible to on-lookers she was really far -more sensitive than she had ever been in all her life: her hearing was -absolutely acute, and every sense seemed on end, a feeling I can -corroborate from my own experience, though I have had no really very -serious illness, but have been ill enough to comprehend this -supersensitiveness and to understand how absolutely quiet and restful -should be the conditions of any invalid. It sounds absurd to say that -noise can kill anyone, but noise can; a sudden shock can undoubtedly -snap the thread of life, while noise constantly wearing on the brain can -do endless harm, especially to those who are predisposed to notice and -resent continually unpleasant sounds. And now I want to give a hint to -many among us who are abjectly miserable because they fancy they have -some incurable complaint, and yet have not the sense or courage to -really go to a good doctor and learn what is the matter, or indeed -whether there is anything the matter at all. The tiny lump which appears -on the neck may be nothing but a little swelling of a gland, or it may -be cancer; the dreadful pain that seizes the chest may be heart or it -may be indigestion; anyhow, whatever it is, it is far better to know -what is the matter than to wear oneself to death in wondering if we have -or have not a fatal disease. - -If we have not, well and good; if we have, what, after all, does it -matter? We have all fatal diseases, if it comes to that, and we are all -absolutely sure, unpleasant as is the fact, that we must die, and it is -something to know a little about the means and time by which we shall -have to shuffle off this mortal coil; and, moreover, we can undoubtedly -save ourselves endless trouble, and stave off the last day of our lives, -if we learn early in the day what we have to avoid, and how best we can -manage our lives, many having lost them entirely because they literally -had not the courage to go to the doctor, or went to him so late that he -had sorrowfully to confess he could do nothing, albeit he could have -done much had the patient come to him when she or he first began to -suspect there was anything amiss. I could, I am sorry to say, quote -examples from my own dear and intimate friends of the evil done by this -cowardly dislike to face the worst, and I therefore feel very strongly -on the subject, and implore any of my readers who may suspect a lurking -disease to face it. It may be nothing but fancy; even so, the fancy -should be exorcised. It may be fatal; then the doctor will lay down -rules at once for guidance, and even if death is imminent it is just as -well to know this. There are things to do quietly, and one’s house to -set in order, albeit there is no need to make the lives of all one’s -relations burdens to them; neither need we make ourselves miserable -beforehand by everlasting contemplation of the inevitable parting. Be -quite sure, whether it comes at 100, at 20, at 40, we none of us realise -or relish the idea, but when a thing must be it is best to accept it -gracefully; people will remember us much more kindly if we go -cheerfully, and do not make them all wretched by kicking against the -pricks. - -And, above all, remember if you have a disease to keep the fact to -yourself and to your doctor; no one else wants to hear about it, and it -is interesting to no one else. If you become an invalid you can be both -cheerful and useful, although I know how hateful--how truly hateful--it -is to put up the once active feet, and cross the once busy hands, and -simply listen to what we once used to do. I know too that a good -listener is highly appreciated, and that many a happy home finds the -heart of the house round the invalid sofa, where can always be found -someone who is always at home, always disengaged, always willing to help -and anxious to hear, and who has a most profound interest in all that is -going on, despite the fact that she is out of the action, and can only -take a passive part in the life that seemed once as if it could never go -on without her. - -Moreover, an invalid should never become absorbed in herself, in her -treatment, her medicine, and the progress of her malady; having found -her doctor to be trustworthy, she should do as he tells her, and after -his visit she should utterly decline to speak of herself; she should -read, if possible work (how I do wish I could sew, or knit, or do -anything on earth save read and write!), and, above all she should be -absolutely nice and particular about her clothes, which should never -degenerate (unless it is absolutely necessary) into the dressing-gown -stage. Loose garments are untidy, and anything untidy or -‘dressing-gowny’ assists the invalid idea, which should be kept in the -background as much as possible. - -Then there is another thing I should like to mention, and that is that -invalids should always have their affairs settled, and their wishes as -regards the future of their children or their property entirely and -properly understood--that is to say, understood and settled as far as -anything can be settled that is so unknown as the future--and while a -man is an absolute criminal who neglects to make his will, a woman is -equally foolish who, having strong feelings on subjects which will -concern her children, or may be the place of her burial, does not write -such a letter on the subject to her husband, to be opened after her -death, as shall lay all her wishes before him, but only as wishes: the -dead hand should never fetter anyone; at best it should only indicate -the course which the owner would have followed. - -In but one case should a man or a woman who has property put an emphatic -embargo on the future proceedings of the husband or wife, and then only -if there are children, and that is in the case of the husband or wife -remarrying. Under these circumstances the property should go absolutely -into the hands of trustees, to be administered entirely for the use of -the children, who are often enough defrauded of their father’s or -mother’s money, which goes to keep some lazy man or extravagant woman -who in their time may produce children to share that which was only -meant for the owner’s own offspring. - -This rule should never be departed from under any circumstances: it -should be absolutely out of anyone’s power to defraud children of what -was intended for them alone by the one parent who had money. This does -not prevent a man or a woman marrying again; they had the same chances, -if they wanted them, as they had before; but it does prevent the -children being robbed, as I have known them robbed, in more than one -case, by their silly mothers, who, yearning for the love and protection -they have lost, cast themselves into the arms of number two, doubly -flattered at being wooed when their first bloom has vanished, and find -themselves saddled with men who neglect the business they were supposed -to keep together, or squander the money saved so hardly and set aside so -carefully for those who cannot help themselves or stay the marriage -that will inevitably spoil their home life if it do not wreck their -futures. - -Let the wife have all control until she marries again; then someone else -should step in, as undoubtedly if a woman does not care to remember her -husband she will not care to assure herself and protect his children -from an extravagant, improvident man; and of course a man should be -treated in the same way; all control as long as he remembers his wife, -none when he ceases to do so and would maintain a successor out of the -money she meant for her children’s welfare. - -Now all this can be managed, and, indeed, should be managed, on the -wife’s part by a letter written to her husband, and on a man’s by a calm -conversation with his wife, who of course will vow that nothing on this -earth would induce her to marry again; but, unfortunately for her -argument, example can be brought against her of people who have said -just the same, who have wept in the marketplace and wrung their hands in -high places, ‘so to speak,’ and yet have married generally ‘for the sake -of the dear children’ before they had worn out their mourning, and -therefore her protestations can be gently set on one side with the quiet -statement that in that case the money will be in her own power. This can -show no lack of confidence in the wife; it simply shows a lack of -confidence in any possible future husband, and a consummate knowledge of -human nature, which forgets disagreeables speedily, alas! and accepts -hurriedly any chance that may present itself of obliterating a mournful -memory and changing one’s trappings of woe for newer and far more -beaming garments. - -I never could understand the sensitiveness that prevents some wives and -husbands from ever speaking of the future that must come when they will -be separated. There need be no continual discussion of the mournful -subject, but it should be discussed thoroughly when the will is made; it -need never be spoken of again until circumstances arise that may cause -some alterations to be made, or codicils added; anything that may be too -painful to discuss can be written in the final letter of farewell. Then, -if one has no accumulations of other folks’ letters, if one’s drawers -are tidy, one’s bills paid, and one’s conscience clear, there will be -nothing to make anyone extra-miserable after we have departed; we shall -have done our work, left everything in order, and shall leave nothing -but a pleasant memory behind us. - -Death as a rule is either made unduly awful, or is a time of the most -extravagant expenditure. The immense quantities of florists’ wreaths -sent nowadays have brought into disrepute one of the most charming ideas -possible, and the money once devoted to black plumes and undertaker’s -millinery of all kinds, to extravagant mourning and absurd woe, is now -squandered equally extravagantly and absurdly on wreaths, which cost -from 15_s._ to 30_s._ each, and which are simply thrown into the earth -to perish there untimely. Not for one moment would I deprecate the use -of flowers entirely, but let them be arranged by people who loved me, -and really bound them together because they knew I loved them. I would -rather spend money, or have money spent, on some useful memorial than on -a perishable wreath; and were I to die to-morrow I should say, Give me -as simple, as cheap a funeral as you can, and give the money to my pet -charity. It could be done in my name, and would be a practical -remembrance of me, and a far more useful one than hundreds of wreaths. -Why, I once saw a funeral in mid-winter where there were over 300 -wreaths. This would have almost built a ward in the Hospital for Sick -Children; it would certainly have helped the good Sisters at Kilburn, -and have done great good to the children there, who had always been -loved by her whose funeral it was. And in the same way would I deprecate -a ‘handsome’ coffin and elaborate headstone; neither can do any good to -the dead, and the memory of those we have loved can be perpetuated a -thousand times longer should we content ourselves with the simplest oak -coffin we can get and the plain cross, which will last as long as anyone -could wish it to, while the money saved can be given elsewhere. Everyone -has some pet scheme that could be benefited by his or her death; no one -but the undertaker and florist is benefited now. - -Another reason why we should not encourage the sending of an immense -quantity of flowers from our friends is, that there is something almost -ghastly about the false air of festivity given by the constant receipt -and opening of the parcels and boxes in which they are sent; in the -list of names which, must be written out, in order that all who sent -may be thanked or their names mentioned in the local paper; and in the -smothered remarks of the servants and children as they look at the -beauties, and compare the present one with the last one laid on the -coffin in the room which is so familiar and yet has become so fearfully -and wonderfully strange. - -But if flowers need not be sent (and I wish I could think all would send -the money instead to some special fund), letters should always be -written. They may not be read at first--nay may never be really read at -all--but the name of the writer will always be remembered warmly, and as -that of one who knew that sympathy is the most precious gift we can any -of us receive when we are in the depths, and that dark curtain descends -which seems as if it would lie for ever between us and the outside -world. Ah me! no matter who has died, it will rise again, and life will -flow on just the same as if we had never lost those who were so near and -so dear to us. - -Undoubtedly, too, though we should none of us ever call at the house to -inquire after a scarlet fever, small-pox, or diphtheria case, we should -let our friends know through the post that we are thinking of them. If -their child is ill we can make up tiny parcels to send. A few flowers; a -paper doll; a few old books, which can be burned as soon as read; -‘scraps’ to paste into books; odds and ends which cost nothing and can -be destroyed without a pang, often making a small child’s day of tedious -weariness and slow convalescence, an entirely different thing to what it -might have otherwise been; and the idea of what to-morrow’s post may -bring has, to my knowledge, more than once soothed a tired little girl -to rest; for she would go to sleep easier when she remembered that the -sooner the night was over the sooner the familiar ring would be heard, -and the lovely parcel would arrive, which might contain nothing more -costly than glass beads for stringing, or some roses and a cheap little -vase to put them in, but which was a never-ending source of wonder and -delight, until the child was well and able to take her place again among -her brothers and sisters. - -In the sick room, which may be the death chamber, sympathy, always -precious, becomes an absolute necessity, and a tedious day of pain is -often borne more courageously than it otherwise would have been, and -passes quicker than it otherwise might have done, if we know that people -are thinking of us and wondering if there is anything they can do to -lighten our time of trouble and to help us bear the inevitable misery of -it all. A sick person, or an invalid, should never be forgotten. I -verily believe half our dread of death comes from the fact that we know -that soon we shall be as if we had never been, and that our place shall -be taken by another and shall know us no more. - -When we are quite sure that there is an infectious disease in our house, -we ought to be compelled by Act of Parliament to register the fact at -some convenient place, where a list of houses similarly infected should -undoubtedly be exposed in a prominent place. None should be exempt from -this law, and the doctor should be the person responsible for the -registration, a severe penalty, moreover, being inflicted in any case of -wilful misrepresentation or of the withholding of proper information of -the outbreak. - -That the penalty is necessary is proved by the fact that I once knew a -country doctor speak of a bad attack of scarlet fever as a mild case of -rose rash, because he was abjectly afraid of losing the patronage of the -dame whose child it was, and who objected to the isolation which would -have been her portion had the truth been known. Still the disease -spread, owing to her selfishness and the doctor’s supineness, and the -truth came out, but not before she had done endless mischief and caused -the death of a child of one of her relations, who was sent into the -house with his nurse to inquire after the ‘rose rash,’ and who would -never have been allowed to pass even the same side of the street had his -mother known the truth; and both the doctor and the patient’s mother -were in consequence ostracised and isolated from their fellow-creatures -far more completely and for a much longer period than they would have -been had they boldly and at once told the truth. - -Nowadays, with the slight exception of the law that we must not wilfully -expose anyone suffering from an infectious disease in a public -conveyance, we may do pretty much as we like.[A] We can send other -members of the family to church or the theatre; we can send our washing -to the public laundry, we may let our friends come and see us without -mentioning what is the matter, and, in fact, there is no law except the -moral law (which governs so few of us) to prevent us handing on the -complaint to as many people as we can comfortably manage to infect. The -registration would prevent this, as it would prevent us from stopping in -a fever-bed or (as happened to me not a month ago) from sending a cat to -be doctored in a house where there was a fatal case of scarlet fever; -and how that cat didn’t bring it back to us is more than I can -understand, but it did not. Albeit, any mother can understand what I -felt until I knew all chance of infection was over from that source at -all events. - - [A] Since the above was written a law has been passed to make the - notification of disease compulsory in London; so there is one step - already made in advance. - -It is the selfishness of other people that spreads so much disease, and -therefore the law should force people to be more considerate; then -disease will be stamped out undoubtedly, and we can exist without the -many qualms and dreads which harass us now, and certainly go far to make -life anything but worth living. - -Now, I think if I had an infectious complaint in the house my first idea -would be to keep people out of it. I should place a placard on the door, -and then leave folks to do as they chose in the matter. I should keep -the rest of the household to the grounds and garden, and I should--- -much as I should hate it--stay as much at home as I possibly could. Of -course the usual means of disinfection would be largely used; still no -one should run the risk of giving the complaint to any other soul. - -The doctor would be the person to say what is infectious and what is -not, but, despite the ‘Lancet,’ I am quite certain measles and mumps -cannot be carried and cannot be given to another, unless by the person -who actually has the complaint on him. About scarlet fever, small-pox, -and diphtheria there can be no doubt, but typhoid cannot be carried from -one to the other, although typhus most undoubtedly may be. But in any -case the doctor is the person to apply to, and if we have his consent we -can go about the world as usual; only we should always tell our friends -what is the matter, and if they object to us we must not be offended -with them. They are quite right to object, and we should not resent -their care for their own. We should not feel happy if we handed on the -complaint, and what should we experience if it had a fatal termination? -I, for one, cannot imagine. - -There is absolutely no place on earth which requires so much good -breeding to inhabit or arrange for properly as does the sick room; -therefore I trust I may be forgiven if I write rather fully on the -matter, more especially as this book is coming now to an end, and I -shall never write any more on the ever-fascinating subject of the home, -and I want to say a word to the patient. - -Remember, however bad it is for you to be ill, it is fifty times worse -for those who have to see you suffer, and that you must even at your -worst think about that and remember other people. Do not make their -anxiety greater by refusing food or medicine, or by disobeying your -doctor or nurse; for the time give yourself entirely into their hands, -and do not refuse or kick against their remedies, their rules and -regulations. Be absolutely calm, absolutely quiet, and, above all, if -you want to get well do not lose your hold on life if you can, and don’t -fret or become terrified. Fear and fretting are a doctor’s worst -foes--almost worse than disobedience. If you can recollect that whatever -is is best, and that you will recover if it is better that you should, -you will have a thousand chances that the irritable invalid can never -have, and, at all events, if you do die you will die courageously and -resignedly, and not screaming and kicking like a naughty child does -whose nurse fetches it away to bed before it thinks it is ready to -retire to rest. Its nurse knows best; and so does God, and if you are -fetched ten chances to one your work is done, and you can retire from -the scene gracefully even if you cannot feel you are quite glad to go. - -I am certain that the mind has a great deal to do with one’s body from a -small experience of my own when once I was saved from being very ill by -a mere exercise of will, rendered necessary by a sudden shock received -when one of my children was only two days old. My dear old nurse was in -my room at 12, and at 7 she was dead in the room next to mine, and I -knew all about it. There were the two eldest children--who were five and -three--running about calling for ‘Nan,’ from whom they had never been -separated five minutes since the hour they were born. I had a new -housemaid. I had seen in the looking-glass the monthly nurse drinking -brandy out of the bottle, and told Nan of this, and I was absolutely -alone as far as friends were concerned. Could any situation be worse? -And yet before I slept I had arranged for the children to go to London, -for the funeral to take place soon, and for the friends to be told. And -then began the struggle. My doctor was confined to the house with -bronchitis; circumstances made his partner impossible; the nearest -medical man on whom one could depend was fourteen miles away, and I knew -I must not be ill; and all that wretched night I kept saying this to -myself, repeating who I was, where I was, and what had happened, until I -felt I was master of the situation. Surely had I given in then I should -have had a fever; as it was, I occasionally felt my head was loose and -swimming round the room by itself, and it was only by repeating to -myself that this was impossible that I kept off the delusion, and after -a day or two I was nearly well, or at all events was not ill in the -accepted sense of the word, though my dear old doctor nearly wept when I -told him what I had endured, and never could understand to his dying day -why I had not had a serious illness, which I undoubtedly must have had -had I not staved it off in the manner I have just described. Therefore, -I am convinced those patients have the best chance of recovering who are -quiet, obedient, and who, furthermore, try their best to live, and -believe that there is something worth living for. - -And now a few words on that saddest of all subjects, a death, and I must -devote my last chapter to more cheerful subjects--namely, how best to -get strong and well again once we have emerged from the sick room, and -are pronounced fit and able to go for a change. - -When death has actually occurred I would strongly advocate that those -who have loved and nursed the dead may prepare the body for the last -resting-place. It can be gently washed and attired in the clean -night-dress, and the hands can be crossed on the breast. Someone who can -be trusted--not a mere hireling--should be present when the last -measurements are taken; then the room should be at once turned into a -mortuary chamber, the bed hung with white, candles lighted head and -foot, which should not go out until the funeral day, and fresh flowers -should be kept there; these should be changed every single day; and, -furthermore, the windows should be left a little open, and on no account -should the dead person be left unwatched for a moment until the coffin -is screwed down; this should never be done until there is no doubt that -death has ensued, and then the sooner the funeral is the better; though -I trust some day cremation may be universal, then there can be no dread -of the awful fate of one who is buried alive. That ought to be made -impossible in all cases by the doctor performing some simple surgical -operation--I think it is the dividing of some artery in the arm. - -If the dead person has been attached to any particular church in his or -her life-time the coffin should be placed in that church the night -before the funeral, so that the last night above ground the body may -rest in that hallowed spot. Of course it should be watched there, and -the candles and flowers should be arranged as in the mortuary chamber, -and the first part of the service should be read there; not by a -stranger, but by the family priest of whom I have spoken before; and -then when the ceremony is over no one but the clergyman should return to -the house with the mourners, who should separate and go to their own -rooms. There should be no general family meal that day at least; -certainly there should be no gathering even of relations and friends -round the dinner-table. I have experienced more than one of these awful -meals, and I can truthfully say that there is nothing more terrible on -earth; people must talk, they cannot remain silent, they must eat and -drink, and the _pseudo_-festivity and the endeavour to keep off and -avoid _the_ subject are so truly ghastly, that under no circumstances -can I understand such a thing can be in any way necessary in the least. -Surely as unnecessary is also the reading of the will. What concerns the -public can be told the public, the lawyers should manage the rest. Under -no circumstances should the display of evil passions and disappointments -be allowed that almost inevitably follows this institution. - -Let the burial-day be a day of meditation and quiet. In the evening the -bereaved family can gather alone and talk over what has to be done. Then -the next day let all the clothes be sent to the Kilburn Orphanage; and -the personal property distributed according to the wish of the dead. -Let the death room be entirely repapered and painted, and, if possible, -refurnished; and, above all, do not be afraid to speak of those who have -gone. I know how I should resent being forgotten; and perhaps those with -whom we have just parted may hunger to hear all about us still; at all -events, we cannot know they do not. _De mortuis_ may mean a great deal -more than we think; it is doubly evil, surely, to speak aught but good -of the dead if we remember not only the defencelessness which caused -that proverb, but the idea that all we may say about them we say in -their dumb presence, and before those who are silent, and cannot speak -in their own defence. - -Death is a dreadful thing because of its silence, its separation. Yet if -we meet it patiently--if we believe our dead are still within reach--we -can bear it, more especially if we do our best to carry out their -wishes, and do not, the moment they are gone, begin to reverse all their -ideas and plans, and to forget them as speedily as may be; while, when -our own time comes, we can face it bravely, feeling we are setting a -good example, and leaving behind us nothing to pain or embarrass anyone, -nothing but a bright remembrance, a good record, that may sooner or -later be of use to others after us. - -The sick room has more than once been the heart of the house; the death -chamber in its turn can become, if properly thought of, the very gate of -heaven itself. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -WHERE SHALL WE GO FOR A CHANGE? - - -I think there is nothing that tries an ordinary householder more than -answering the question with which I have headed this, my last chapter. - -In the first place, as a rule, few men consider that a change can -possibly be required. It seems only the other day that they returned -from the last uncomfortable sojourn at some unhappy seaside town, and -they are quite convinced that a second martyrdom cannot be necessary -just at present. In the second, when change is really wanted, no one -knows where to go; and in the third, if the place be selected, and the -rooms taken, the unfortunate creature is sure to meet someone who knows -all about it, and proceeds to make his friend profoundly miserable by -telling him that that especial town is only decent at the very time of -year when he cannot possibly go there; that he knows for certain an -epidemic is raging there; and that the rooms taken for ‘six weeks -certain’ are in the very worst part both for health and comfort, and -that he can but wish him well home again. And the unfortunate traveller -starts depressed and nervous; and having made up his mind to be -miserable, is so, and derives no benefit whatever from that which was to -do him and his soul an immense amount of good. - -Now I cannot help thinking that English people, as a rule, do not show -the smallest common sense in the manner they manage their holidays, more -especially, of course, among the middle classes; the upper portion of -which often enough have a tiny cottage somewhere, of which they speak -grandly as ‘my country house,’ and the address of which is inscribed on -their cards, and mentioned in the ‘blue book.’ And they fly to this the -moment the weather becomes in the least warm, remaining there until they -are driven back by the falling leaves and chilling fogs of an October in -the country; and then wonder they are so little benefited. Why, they -have not had any change; no more, at least, than those a shade lower in -the social scale, who go to the same watering-place year after year, -spend their mornings on the beach, their afternoons in slumber, or a -‘country walk,’ and their evenings on the pier or parade, and who see -the same people, say the same things, and do the same actions -mechanically as they do in town, only perhaps in a smaller space, and -under far more uncomfortable circumstances. - -The very stupidest thing on earth, to my mind, is the annual sojourn of -a large family of small children, accompanied by their parents, to the -orthodox seaside rooms or lodgings. In the first place, the parents, -children, and nurses are very much too much together; the annoyances of -the predatory habits of the landladies spoil Materfamilias’ temper; the -servants are disorganised, and imagine that because the family makes -holiday they are to be in some measure allowed to do just as they like, -and much resent being unable to make excursions and ramble at large, -whether it is convenient or not for their mistress to spare them. And, -indeed, I do not know a more hard-worked, driven creature than the -ordinary Materfamilias at the seaside, more especially if she has left -her own large airy house, with its nurseries and schoolrooms, and taken -lodgings at a fashionable spot, where every inch of space costs pounds, -and where she can never rid herself of her family for one moment. - -It is in her defence that I suggest that change of air should be -obtained in a far easier and more satisfactory manner than it can be -under the circumstances of which I have been speaking. As long as the -children are quite small, I most strongly advise any mother to send them -to the seaside in the end of May, and let them remain there until the -first or second week in July. She should send them to some -plainly-furnished cottage under the care of a lady who would be thankful -to superintend them for the mere fare, change, keep, &c., that would be -such a boon to her; and she should send their nurses with them. In this -early portion of the year lodgings are cheap and clean, and so are -provisions; the days are longer, the heat not so great as later on; and -the children would come back when London was thinning and the parks and -streets safe for them to be in; and at the end of July, having settled -the children in, the father and mother could go for the complete change -and rest they both need so greatly, and which it is impossible for them -to have, encumbered by their household duties and cares, which must be -taken with them if they move their servants and children _en masse_ to -some seaside place for August and September. - -Very young children, if proper nurses and superintendents are found for -them, do not require the companionship we shall not be able to give them -later on if we wear ourselves out in their service when they are very -small. By this I do not naturally mean that children should be neglected -or left entirely to the mercy of hirelings. Far be it from me to suggest -anything so dreadful; but I do maintain that for six weeks of the year -they would be quite as well at the seaside without their parents as -they would be with them, more especially if the cottage they are sent to -is well known and the people who keep it are acquaintances, while of -course both the lady superintendent and the nurses should not be new, -but should be thoroughly tested by some amount of service before they -are trusted. - -It is better, should we determine to send the children away as I have -suggested, to pay so much per head for all the board and lodging -expenses combined. No servant, and indeed very few governesses, can be -trusted to ‘housekeep.’ I cannot tell why, but the moment they are -allowed to order the food and make purchases for the household, they all -become most wildly extravagant, and have no more notion of managing than -they have of flying. They may, of course, have the truly British notion -that holiday-making and over-eating must go hand-in-hand, and proceed to -demonstrate this by the exorbitant demands made upon one’s purse. -Anyhow, whatever the reason, it is an axiom that housekeeping cannot be -trusted to either, and that we should make arrangements for board as -well as lodging unless we wish to be fairly appalled by the weekly -bills. As an illustration, I may mention that the only time I sent my -children to the sea with the governess, allowing her to cater for them -all, the bills she sent me home for herself, the German maid and three -children, were exactly treble what I paid for ourselves and the same -number of children and six servants, and that she did not consider it -improper to give 6_s._ for a chicken and 8_s._ for a pound of grapes. -From this my readers will perceive that I am warning them out of my own -experience. And this governess, moreover, was an elderly woman who had -lived with us a great many years, and really had in some measure our -interest at heart. Therefore I am convinced neither governess nor -servants can make good managers; they are always provided for as far as -food is concerned; they never have to provide, and therefore know -nothing about it. - -I think, once we have discovered a spot that really suits the children, -it is best to keep to that, as children simply require good sands and -good air, and do not trouble themselves about scenery. Deal is -absolutely delightful as regards air, but the beach is unsafe and -pebbly, and has no sand; Margate is quite perfect; so is Westgate; -while Swanage in spring leaves nothing to be desired except for -children who require bracing air; then Swanage is not for one moment to -be compared to either of the places I have named, which are also near -enough to town for the parents to run down and see the children should -they wish to do so, and, indeed, as they ought to do, to learn how they -are getting on. - -Personally I know nothing of the east coast, but I believe there are -plenty of little places about there where the children would be happy, -well, and safe; and I should recommend anyone before finally choosing -the summer home of the children to make an exhaustive survey of the -English coast, and, having found one place which will suit, then to -stick to that until the children are twelve years old. Then one would -have to begin to alter one’s plans a little, more especially if the boys -go to school and are only at home in the holidays; then the children and -parents must go out together, else they will never meet, and will grow -up like strangers to each other. - -During the minority, so to speak, of the children, the parents would be -wise to spend their holidays in learning which would be the nicest -places to take the children to when they are beginning to grow up; they -should make and keep notes of excursions, advantages, prices, and -houses, and should be able to refer to them in a moment, when they have -to decide on the place where they are to spend their holiday in; they -must not trust to their memory, the best of memories will not retain the -names of the house agents, the position of the different streets, and -the aspect of the different houses, while the notes would be always -there to refer to, and would be of immense service to them in more ways -than one. - -Now, having made up their minds to the change, it is absolutely -necessary that a house, not rooms, should be taken, if anyone is to -enjoy the holiday at all. - -There can be no freedom and very little enjoyment, and there is great -risk of infection at the seaside unless the house is shared by someone -we may happen to know, if we take only a part of a house. We may have a -fidgety mortal who sends up twenty times a day to ask our children to be -quiet, or we may have a screaming, badly managed baby near us, a piano -which plays just when we don’t want it to play, or we may meet on the -stairs a convalescent from some childish complaint, who may hand it on -to our children, and bring our holiday to an abrupt conclusion with -measles or whooping-cough. Then there are always the landlady, the -larder difficulties, and the horrors of being waited on by strange -servants, generally most inferior ones, and always those who cannot and -do not understand our ways. Therefore I maintain that a house is a _sine -quâ non_, and that if we cannot afford to take one and go away -comfortably we had better remain at home; if we leave we may get fresher -air, we shall have the necessary change, but the change will be for the -worse, and the good the fresher air may do will be more than outbalanced -by the continual rasping worry of arranging, and very likely battling -with the servants, who resent the landlady’s interference, and won’t do -any more work than they can help, under the mistaken idea that the -house-servants are to wait on them, and in the endless worries caused by -the disappearance of one’s food, and the disagreeable feeling that -everything one touches has probably been well ‘pawed over’ by the -lodging-house maid, if not by the mistress herself. - -If, therefore, as I remarked before, we cannot afford to go away -comfortably we had better remain at home, going away in detachments if -the doctor thinks that the weaker members must have sea air; in that -case visits can always be managed, for everyone almost has relations or -friends in the country, or knows of some nice family who will take in a -stray child or two and ‘do for them’ with their own; while if the boys -are away at school, they are quite satisfied to return to their own -haunts, while no end of excursions can be made from London and in and -round London, which is, it must be confessed, just a little hot in -August, and smells just a little of over-ripe fruit and dead cabbage -leaves, but is positively delightful in September with its soft skies -and its wonderful effects of cloud and sunshine, and which has always -something amusing to show those who really appreciate the most -delightful and picturesque city in the whole world. I love my London, -even in August, when the parks are empty of fashionable people, but full -of the most beautiful flowers and palms, which only those who remain in -town in that unfashionable month ever see at their prime; and despite -the heat and the odours in the streets, I would rather be in London -than in a cramped lodging at the sea, where I was inundated with -children, worried by bad service, and had none of my own belongings -about me; and, in fact, had not time to read or sit alone to enjoy -myself in the peace and quiet that are absolutely necessary to make a -holiday even endurable. - -I hope my readers will not think I am writing of what I do not know when -I say that London in August and September is quite as beautiful and -entrancing as it is in the heart of the season. I have been for the last -seven years constantly in the beloved city in those unfashionable -months, and I unreservedly advise anyone in want of a real change to go -up to town then. They will learn and see more then than at any other -time; they will not be hurried; they will be able to see everything -quietly, and will really see what they never can when the roads are -crammed with carriages and the streets with people--_i.e._ how beautiful -London is, and how many things she possesses we never dream of when we -are simply rushing from occupation to amusement, and are only thinking -of our work or pleasure. However, as I cannot expect all to believe me, -or to share my enthusiasm for the streets and chimney-pots that I adore, -I will simply now advise my readers how to proceed once they have made -up their minds to go away. If possible they should let their own house; -if not, they should endeavour always to keep to the same caretaker who -should, if possible, be married to a policeman and have a dog, but no -children; the furniture should be covered over, and ‘put to bed’ by the -upholsterer, who understands how to prepare for possible moth and damp, -and who will not make an exorbitant charge for what will, as a rule, -prevent most of the things from being spoiled. Fires should be ordered, -no matter what the weather may be, in rotation all through the house, -for one that is uninhabited, and in which very little gas, if any, will -be burned, always becomes damp in our climate; while it would be wise to -have the gas cut off at the meter entirely. We should save a great deal -of waste; and as caretakers are used to lamps in their own abodes, we -should run no risk of fire, not as much as we do when we leave the gas -for the use of those who often enough have never had any control over -it on their own account, and so have not learned how to save it or even -use it. - -No valuables should be left in the house; all should be sent to the -bank; and we should naturally take our plate with us for use. But, -having taken our house by the sea, we should in some measure know what -it wants, and we should invariably have ornaments, photographs, &c., to -take with us to brighten up the house and to make it home-like; while -the children must take their story-books, work, and playthings. We must, -in fact, prepare in every way we can for a rainy day; rain must fall, -and if the children have their books and toys, and their own rooms, they -will be as happy, and be no more of a nuisance by the sea than they are -at home; at least, if they are, it will be the fault of the parents and -not of the unfortunate children themselves. - -I have always had three very large wicker baskets set apart for using at -similar crises of our existence. One holds the household linen, another -the nursery and schoolroom toys and books, and the third is set apart -for loose cretonne covers, serge table-cloths, and any amount of -photographs and ornaments to render the temporary house home-like; for -even if I find my new domicile replete with ornaments, I always put them -all away at once. Ornaments are always priceless when the reckoning -comes to be taken; they can’t possibly be harmed if they retired into a -cupboard the moment we arrived, and only emerged from their seclusion -the day we leave. - -If the china and glass in a house are really expensive and good, I also -put them all away, and I purchase for our own use the very cheapest ware -I can find. China and glass are so very cheap nowadays, that it is far -better to do this than be made to pay fabulous sums for the owner’s -china, which seems to one so hideous, and is only costly because in -these artistic days of ours it is impossible to match it. - -The contents of my basket soon make even a hideous room much better; -while one feels that one need not always be on the look-out, as one must -be to protect another person’s property if one does not take these -precautions; but, as a rule, furnished houses are so absolutely -unfurnished and ugly, I am thankful to cover up what I find, and so in -some measure mitigate the horrors of my surroundings, by putting about -as many of my own belongings as I can take with me. We also, when we go -away, always put at the top of each separate person’s box that -individual’s own sheets, pillow-cases, and eider-down quilt; and I never -go away without some spare pillows, and any amount of cushions. This -sounds luxurious; but why should we be uncomfortable because we are not -at home? On the contrary, because we are not we ought to take more care -than ever that all shall be as nice as we can make it; while, the sheets -and pillow-cases being ready, the servants have no trouble in settling -in the first evening. They open the boxes and make the beds at once, -with sheets we know are aired; and therefore, even in the confusion that -is generally apparent at these times, we have no risk of spending our -first night between damp sheets. - -Another thing we should provide ourselves with is a hamper of groceries, -and, if we are to arrive late, with sufficient cooked food to supply the -establishment for the night and next morning. Each servant should be -told off to certain duties, and no hurry or confusion should be allowed. -All, except one box in which to put the last things, should be locked -and strapped the night before, and the luggage should be at the station -in good time; the tickets should all be procured; or at least ordered, -the day before; and if these simple precautions are taken the journey -need be hardly any trouble at all. It must be some, but nothing to speak -of, when the servants know their work, are ready in advance, and are not -allowed to forget anything, not even the harmless necessary cat. - -Now a few words about the animals: and let me beg anyone who has cats -and dogs to take these poor things with them. We always do; the dogs go -with the horses, the cats with the servants, and they never attempt to -stray. They are absolutely and abjectly miserable if we leave them at -home, even with a caretaker; while they cost nothing to take, and are -happy with us, just as, in fact, they are at home. I have nothing to say -about or to those people who are wicked enough to ‘stray’ their cats, or -leave them shut out in the garden, to forage for themselves. They must -be such cruel wretches, that I hope they may not even read this book; -but many people, possessed of the kindest hearts have no compunction in -leaving their cats to caretakers, little understanding how these poor -things pine for the human companionship to which they are accustomed, -and after which they long pitifully. Now a cat costs nothing, a dog very -little, to take; so I do hope all who can will consider if their holiday -cannot be shared by their dumb friends. I am sure they will never regret -it if they make up their minds to take them with them. - -When once settled in the temporary house, all should be found out that -there is to be found out about the points of interest in the -neighbourhood, and all these should be visited; as a rule, a local -guide-book is very little real use; but one should always be obtained -and studied in connection with the county history. One’s holiday is a -thousand times more profitable and pleasant if we see all there is to be -seen, and do not waste our time listening to an inferior band, or -hanging about on the pier, wearing smart clothes, which are entirely out -of place by the sea. - -Indeed, blue serge should be the only wear, as far as young people are -concerned, with flannels for boys. I remember how wretched we used to be -over our light print and muslin frocks; in consequence of which I have -always taken care our children should never have anything that they had -to think about on the shore. Half our pleasure used to be spoiled by the -idea that we should have to pay for it by being scolded by our governess -for the sandy, wet garments, inseparable from any real play by the -fascinating sea. Now, with the high india-rubber boots we buy at -Scarborough, and serge skirts, and under-drawers of serge, no girl can -possibly harm, paddle how she may; while the same high boots and serge -or flannel suits make the boys quite happy. The boots protect the feet -from possible cuts, and do away with any hygienic difficulties; many -people refusing to allow their children to paddle because feet should -not be wet if the heads cannot be wet too; the feet do not get wet in -these high boots, and therefore, provided with them, the last objection -to paddling is quite done away with; and without paddling, what is the -seashore? Very little to the children, who cannot have too much of this -most delightful amusement. The sea is the best holiday companion one can -have. I therefore most strongly advise all who are bent on a holiday -for the children to take them to the sea and not to the inland country; -where, if it be wet, mud keeps them prisoners, whereas by the sea rain -dries up at once, and there is always something to look at; for, of -course, the ideal holiday house faces the sea, and has a good view of -whatever is going on. - -And now, having said all I can about the children’s holiday, let me add -just a few words about sharing the holiday, if in any way possible, with -some child or someone who cannot afford to go away at all, unless a -friendly invitation manages this for them. - -I have written very little about charities in this book, but I could -have set down much on the subject, and I may say that the truest of all -charities is that which quietly and unostentatiously helps that most -unfortunate, most deserving of all classes--the poor lady or gentleman, -who is too well-born to be assisted with money, but who requires help a -thousand times more than the very, very poor to whom one can give a few -shillings. No one ever thinks of the over-worked, underpaid curate or -the orphan child. We could, when we take our house for the holidays, -surely reserve a corner for them. They are pleasant visitors, and we -shall have the delightful feeling that while our children have been -gaining strength we have helped others to do the same. Most people -contrive to have visitors while they are away; let them be those who -would not have gone away at all had we not asked them to come to us -while we are at the sea. They can generally manage the railway fare, -while of course we can judiciously contrive that they are not forced -into any expense for excursions if we take them; we can easily manage -this if we have the smallest tact, while of course we must not affront -them by boldly offering to pay their fare, but if we are accustomed to -go first-class, and yet know third-class would suit our friend’s pocket -better, we can all go third boldly; it will not hurt us one bit, and it -will save them from the unpleasantness of spending more than they can -afford, or of being paid for by us, which would be terrible for them. - -There is still another holiday of which I wish to speak, and then I -shall lay down my pen and close my book, and that is the yearly -honeymoon-holiday all husbands and wives should try and manage to take -together. - -Nothing so keeps up the bond of affection between them as this, -particularly when both are busy people and see nothing at all of each -other during the day, and are often too tired in the evening to speak at -all except on the most necessary subjects; and even if they are not -tired there are always the boys and girls about, once they have begun to -grow up, and there is no time they can call their own--none in which -they can talk as they used to do--none in which they can discuss the -children’s future or talk about their own plans and hopes and wishes. Of -course I am told many husbands and wives are only too thankful to be -spared the chance of a _tête-à-tête_ that must be nothing save a bore. I -maintain that this is not in the least degree true; that those who have -been married many years have far more in common, far more to say to each -other, than the young folks just starting on life’s journey can possibly -have to say, and that the yearly holiday taken together does more to -make the domestic car move along gracefully and lightly than anything -else I know. The wife is relieved from the unceasing ordering of the -dinner and planning of everything, while the husband once more finds -himself responsible for all the little details, and delights once again -to have his wife to himself and to look after and wait upon as in the -days of old; while the children are safe at their lessons or looking -after the house in their absence; and once more there is a real holiday -feeling in the air, and they can fancy themselves young and starting on -life’s journey hand-in-hand over again. There is nothing so amusing to -me as the discovery that grown-up daughters and sons have no idea that -their father and mother can really want to be alone together, or that -they can possibly prefer each other’s society to that of their friends -or their own children. But, my dear young people, it is the case; and -though of course your parents are always delighted to have you with -them, they do occasionally wish to be alone together. The yearly holiday -allows for that, as does an occasional holiday together during the year; -and these holidays should never be forgotten or omitted. They should be -kept up vigorously, and no blandishments from our children should be -allowed to break in upon the _solitude à deux_--the honeymoon-holiday -should be taken together or not at all. - -And now, reluctantly and regretfully, I must say farewell to those with -whom I have conversed so long in these pages. I feel this book has not -the light-hearted gaiety with which Angelina and Edwin plan out their -newly-married life, and with which they start out to furnish their -little home, in ‘From Kitchen to Garret;’ but if I am more serious here -it is because life grows more serious as one grows older, as one -realises how much there is to do and how difficult it is to steer the -bark freighted with one’s growing-up children, and with more money to be -spent judiciously, a larger house to be managed, so that we may do as -much good as we possibly can, so that it may give as much happiness to -as many as can be managed, and in some measure so exist as to leave the -world immediately within its influence just a little bit better than we -found it. - -We must realise, wherever we are, that we influence someone, perhaps -very many people, either for good or for evil. It is no use to bury our -heads in the sand, and pretend that no one need be influenced by us -unless they like, and that it is not our fault if they are. It is our -fault, and we cannot get rid of our responsibility in this way; while if -we boldly accept our fate, and do our duty manfully, we shall have our -reward, more especially if we endeavour not to know the ‘best’ people -because we crave for social exaltation, and to mix with those who resent -our intrusion and laugh at our pretensions, but to associate with those -whose noble minds and good thoughts and bright intellects will help our -own, and assist us on our mental progress through the world; and to have -as friends, not those who can give us dinner for dinner, ball for ball, -but those to whom we can give pleasure they would never have did we -refuse to open our doors to them, and to those whose large hearts and -brilliant minds influence ours for good, and lead us insensibly along a -path of peace and safety. - -The truest socialism should begin in the perfect home; the socialism -which shares or administers but does not disperse or destroy; the -socialism which opens the park gates to the poor, or the -picture-galleries to those who could never see anything were it not for -the action of the owner, that never receives a benefit without in some -measure sharing it with a poorer brother, and that finally has a noble -end in life; nay, the noblest of all, that of leaving the world a little -better for one’s having lived and loved and worked and suffered in it. - -By these rules should the home be formed; in these paths should the -children be led, who should never be allowed for one moment to despise -those they may consider below them in the social scale; who should -always be taught to share their flowers, their shells, their holidays -and pleasures with others; and who should one and all be brought up to -do something in life, something to assist the toiling millions around -us, something to do good to someone besides themselves. Of course this -is hard and anxious work; work, could we have realised it was before us -when we so lightly accepted our fate, and laid together the foundations -of a new home, we might never have found courage to take up; but it is -the work set before every married man and woman in the world. They can -either accept it or reject it; but if they do leave it alone, the undone -work will bring its own punishment in the unhappy wicked children, and -the wrecked and miserable home that will take the place of that which -might have been the home which is the rule, not the exception, in -England, and that we can all have if we have powers of endless work in -us, and realise from others’ experience what is before us all. Then, -when the curtain falls, when the hands part which have held each other -so fondly, so faithfully, all through the journey, the worst parts of -which have been gilded by the unfailing love which is God’s best gift, -the one who goes can go boldly into the darkness, content to leave all -to that Higher Power who has helped them so gallantly all through the -struggle, while the one who stays knows that the link still binds them -together, and will draw them some day back to each other again. When -love can do this, when love can build, maintain, and keep our homes -together, as love does, and as only love can, who shall dare to sneer -and laugh at it, and looking at such homes dare ask sarcastically if -marriage be a failure? - -Marriage never is, never can be, a failure, if the home is a true home, -not an abode of vanity, an entertaining house, for gaiety and waste; and -it is to help others just a little more from my own experience of the -happiest of all homes--my own--that I have written this other book -about the household and all that appertains to it, which I now leave to -my good friends and readers, content to feel that they will read me -kindly, knowing of old how kind they can be to one who has said as much -to them on this all-fascinating subject as I have. - - PRINTED BY - SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE - LONDON. - - - - -ADDRESSES - - Messrs. SMEE & COBAY, Finsbury Pavement, E.C. - - Messrs. WALLACE & CO., 151 Curtain Road, E.C. - - Messrs. E. E. PITHER & CO., 38 Mortimer Street, E.C. - - Messrs. KAY & SONS, Burnley Mills, Burnley, Lancashire. - - Messrs. JACKSON & SONS, 199 High Street, Borough, S.E. - - Messrs. HAINES & CO., 83 Queen Victoria Street, E.C. - - Messrs. LAND & CO., 92 Cannon Street, E.C. - - Messrs. ESSEX & CO., Albert Mansions, Victoria Street, S.W. - - Messrs. OETZMANN & CO., Hampstead Road, N.W. - - MAISON HELBRONNER, 300 Oxford Street, W. - - Messrs. GRAHAM & BIDDLE, Graham House, Oxford Street, W. - - Messrs. COLBOURNE & CO., 82 Regent Street, W. - - Messrs. B. BURNET & CO., King Street, Covent Garden, W.C. - - Messrs. BURR & ELLIOTT, Oxford Street, W. - - G. FAULKNER ARMITAGE, Esq., Stamford House, Altrincham, Cheshire. - - THE EDINBURGH LIFE ASSURANCE COMPANY, 11 King William Street, E.C. - - Messrs. GILES & CO., 19 Old Cavendish Street, W. - - Messrs. HOSKYNS & CO., Ben Trovato Red Works, Darlington, Durham. - - Mrs. M’CLELLAND, 33 Warwick Road, Maida Hill, W. - - Mr. THOMAS, Decorator, Bowdon, Cheshire. - - -Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: - -hundreds of unformed units=> hundreds of uniformed units {pg 114} - -and, as they as generally shrink in the was=> and, as they generally -shrink in the was {pg 147} - -allowing great familarity=> allowing great familiarity {pg 167} - -they are fourteen and and not a day before=> they are fourteen and not a -day before {pg 179} - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Nooks and Corners, by J. (Jane) E. 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(Jane) E. (Ellen) Panton - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Nooks and Corners - being the companion volume to From Kitchen to Garret - -Author: J. (Jane) E. (Ellen) Panton - -Release Date: June 12, 2016 [EBook #52314] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOOKS AND CORNERS *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="307" height="500" alt="cover" title="[Image -of the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto 2em auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td> - -<p class="c"><a href="#CONTENTS"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>.</a></p> -<p class="c">Some typographical errors have been corrected; -<a href="#transcrib">a list follows the text</a>.</p> - -<p class="c"><a href="#ILLUSTRATIONS"><span class="smcap">List of Illustrations</span></a><br /> <span class="nonvis">(In certain versions of this etext [in certain browsers] -clicking directly on the image, -will bring up a larger version.)</span></p> - -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="cb">NOOKS AND CORNERS<br /> </p> - -<p class="c"><small>PRINTED BY<br /> -SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br /> -LONDON</small></p> - -<p><a name="front" id="front"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/front_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/front_sml.jpg" width="299" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: A French Window" /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">A French Window</span> -</div> - -<h1>NOOKS AND CORNERS</h1> - -<p class="c"><small>BEING THE COMPANION VOLUME TO</small><br /> -<br /> -‘FROM KITCHEN TO GARRET’<br /> -<br /><br /> -BY<br /> -<br /> -J. E. P A N T O N<br /> -<small>AUTHOR OF<br /> -‘BY-PATHS AND CROSS-ROADS’ ‘THE CURATE’S WIFE’ ‘A TANGLED CHAIN’<br /> -‘COUNTRY SKETCHES IN BLACK AND WHITE’<br /> -ETC.</small><br /> -<br /> -<i>ILLUSTRATED</i><br /> -<br /> -<span class="eng">London</span><br /> -WARD & DOWNEY<br /> -12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN<br /> -1889 -<br /> -[<i>All rights reserved</i>]<br /> -</p> - -<h2 class="courr"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td> </td> -<td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td><span class="smcap">Moving House</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Halls and Passages</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Nooks and Corners</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_48">48</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">The Billiard-room and Library</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Shall we do away with the Nursery?</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">The Girls’ Room</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_113">113</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Coming-out and Dress</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_133">133</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Christenings and Weddings</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_153">153</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">About the Boys</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_172">172</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Some Domestic Details</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_190">190</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">The Sick Room</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_209">209</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td> <span class="smcap">Where shall we go for a Change?</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_227">227</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2 class="courr"><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td> </td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">A French Window</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><small>FIGS.</small></td><td> </td> -<td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_1">1.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Hall Arrangement</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_2">2.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Oak Buffet</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_3">3.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Staircase Window</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_4">4.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">A London Landing</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_5">5,</a> -<a href="#ill_6">6.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Hall Wardrobes</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a>, <a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_7">7.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">A Summer Corner</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_8">8.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">A Winter Corner</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_9">9.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Arches for a Double Room</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_10">10.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Simple Mantel Draping</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_11">11.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">A Recess</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_12">12.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">A Draped Piano</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_72">72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_13">13.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Conservatory Door</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_74">74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_14">14.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Frilled Chairs and Sofa</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_15">15.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">An Empty Nursery</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_16">16.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">Boudoir-Bedroom</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_121">121</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="rt" valign="top"><a href="#ill_17">17.</a></td><td valign="top"><span class="smcap">An Ideal Kitchen</span></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_205">205</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1"></a>{1}</span></p> - -<h1>NOOKS AND CORNERS.</h1> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /><br /> -<small>MOVING HOUSE.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">I have</span> been asked by a great many readers of ‘From Kitchen to Garret’ to -produce another book on the ever fascinating subject of household -management and house decoration; and I have been furthermore requested -to consider Edwin and Angelina from another standpoint, and to regard -them as having increased their borders in more ways than one, and, -having become richer and at the same time more numerous, as now -beginning to move from their small house, furnished so joyfully and -hopefully in the early flush of their married happiness, to one larger -in every way, and more suited to their present income and growing -family.</p> - -<p>I confess that I begin my task with just a little diffidence, and a -little misgiving, too, and feel just a wee bit as sad over the beginning -of this little volume as I know my young couples must feel when, no -longer quite as young as they were, they turn their backs on that dear -little first home, and take up their abode in the newer, far more -convenient habitation, welcomed so joyfully by the children, who declare -that now, and now only, they will have room in which to breathe!</p> - -<p>For, successful as ‘From Kitchen to Garret’ is, and many as are the -friends I have made through its pages, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2"></a>{2}</span> am rather doubtful about -another book on the same lines; still, I can but do my best, and so, -without any more forewords on the matter, I will at once plunge into my -subject, and will trust that all those who have made their little houses -pretty by either following or improving on the hints given in my first -book will not disdain to follow me once more into those Nooks and -Corners of house-furnishing and house-keeping, which were deemed too -ambitious for my young couple, or were forgotten in the first essay on -the subject.</p> - -<p>Besides which, as life goes on, I am thankful to say that decoration -becomes more and more a fine art.</p> - -<p>Formerly people rather scorned the idea of being ‘house-proud’ in the -same manner in which all are nowadays. Their house-pride was merely -expressed in the amount of gilding compressed into a single room; in the -thickness of their carpets, the heaviness of their draperies, and the -general costliness of the plenishing, and the amount of money these -things had cost was far more often spoken of than anything else; while -the name of the upholsterer was mentioned, not as a guarantee that taste -and skill had been called into action, but as a proof that money in this -case had not been an object. Formerly, did I say? Alas! cases still -exist of this heavy and depressing style of thing! Money is poured out -like water on carpets that are nightmares, and on papers that are as -absolutely meaningless as they are ugly, and the despair of anyone who -is called in, as I am constantly, to mitigate the horrors of some -gigantic monument of bad taste and lavish expenditure.</p> - -<p>And then, too, people are still, as a rule, far too timid, and act far -too much in a hurry; they believe far too much in the upholsterer, and -far too little in themselves; and above all they cannot get out of the -terrible English habit, carried through every single department in life, -of buying a thing because they admire it, and not because it suits what -they already possess, thus marring at every step their chances of having -a home which is always a pleasure to inhabit, and a restful refuge from -the cares and toils of life.</p> - -<p>But it is to assist the timid and those who lack confidence in their own -tastes, and furthermore who may live in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3"></a>{3}</span> distant country places, where -nothing new penetrates even in these days of parcel-posts and -illustrated newspapers, that I am writing this book, and wrote ‘From -Kitchen to Garret,’ and therefore I must not scold but rather encourage -those who would add to the beauty of their surroundings, but do not -quite know how to set about it: and I am most anxious that there may -soon be no house anywhere in England that may not have some claim to be -considered beautiful or interesting or pretty; for indeed there is no -reason why the humblest among us may not have a charming home, as -certainly, if he or she have taste, money nowadays is not a barrier -between beauty and the public at large. Therefore when any among my -readers makes up her mind that it is absolutely necessary that a move -should be made, the first piece of advice I would give her is that she -should determine on her future locality, if not on the abode itself, -before she is driven from her first house by the lapsing of a lease or -the necessity of deciding immediately because a tenant is forthcoming -for house number one; for if not, she may find herself forced into an -uncongenial neighbourhood or into a house that has every unpleasant -quality under the sun. Above all she must be prepared for a certain -amount of acute misery, mental, at any rate, if not physical, for there -is something about one’s first married home that one can never really -replace, and that renders our fitting into our new locality only a -little less torturing than inhabiting a new skin would be, were we -suddenly forced into one.</p> - -<p>Personally I am not one bit sentimental; I never cried over a faded -flower, or lay awake weeping bitter tears over an unhappy love-affair: I -never had one, I am thankful to say. Neither have I hoarded first shoes, -snippings of baby curls, nor indeed anything save my wedding-dress, -which is a most valuable ‘property’ for characters and private -theatricals of all kinds; and therefore I am considered absolutely -lacking in ‘fine feelings,’ and unhampered by ‘nonsense’; but I have -never yet become reconciled to the moves we have had to make after our -first twelve years of married life, and I much doubt now if I ever -shall; I certainly shall not until I make move number three, and what is -perhaps the most curious point in the whole business is that I did not -like the house, nor the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4"></a>{4}</span> town, nor indeed anything much about it, and -yet I can never see certain looks in the sky, scent certain odours, -without being transported to dear dull Dorsetshire, and without longing -in a curious home-sick way for the marvellously lovely range of the -Purbeck hills, which haunts me like a dream, and for which I am -convinced I should positively pine, had I the smallest touch of -sentiment in my composition.</p> - -<p>The house itself was most wretchedly inconvenient, the furniture of over -twenty years ago—aye, and some of it over fifty years ago—does not -bear thinking about in these æsthetic days. I endured dullness such as -only a London girl, plunged suddenly into an atmosphere she could not -comprehend, much less assimilate, could experience: we had three years -of unspeakable worries; and yet, with it all—with its hideous rooms and -its cold and ugly passages, its out-of-the-worldness, and its unpleasant -associations—there is something about it that no other house can ever -hold, and that causes me often and often to dream I am there again, or -that makes me hear sometimes on a quiet night the old sound of the -sudden clash of the china closet door, the opening of the door at the -top of the kitchen stairs—which, I believe, has been taken away now by -desecrating hands, and which had a sound all its own—or that causes me -to wake suddenly from sleep to wonder at the late return of phantom -waggons and ghostly horses over stones that are hundreds of miles away -from our present uncongenial abode, and which caused sounds inseparable -from thoughts of those dear dead days—days I would have back this -moment if I could, if only to live them over once more in a manner a -thousand times better than an inexperienced girl could ever do, and use -then the experience one buys at such an enormous cost because one will -not listen to words of wisdom from those who have lived so very much -longer in the world than we had then, and which is useless now, because -one sees all too late what one might have done for others.</p> - -<p>These experiences and reminiscences of mine may seem out of place here, -but they really are not. I shall in this book, as in my last, speak only -of what I have experienced; and I am so convinced that when house-moving -is done heartbreak must ensue that I dwell upon this aspect of the case<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5"></a>{5}</span> -in order that the first house may not be left capriciously, but only -because it is absolutely necessary to go elsewhere.</p> - -<p>I have always felt myself, unsentimental creature though I am, that a -house absorbs some of one’s own personality: that the very walls we warm -with our breathing, living selves, and among which we spend our lives, -and allow ourselves to be ourselves without any company veneer, must in -some measure become impregnated by our vitality. You may, for example, -re-paper and re-furnish your room, but in a very short time that room -looks exactly like you once more, and becomes again in a week or two—a -month, at most—part and parcel of your own individuality. But leave -your house, and, if you can muster sufficient courage to do so, go and -call on the next inhabitant, and you will see in one moment what I mean. -The very room is altered. Your successors may have kept your -decorations, taken off your ‘fixtures,’ and gone on the very same lines -as regards furnishing and arrangement as you did, but it will not look -in the very least like you, and you will not believe you are in the same -room in which you have spent so many happy and unhappy hours. At first, -therefore, in any new house you have not only to adapt yourself and your -furniture to it, but you have by your individuality to imprint yourself -on the very fabric itself.</p> - -<p>The last owner’s individuality fades at once; I have seen few empty -houses that do not look precisely like something dead: the body is -there, but the spirit is absent. And there is a blank awful chill about -such a house that penetrates one’s very soul and depresses one in an -extraordinary way; but it takes some time to reanimate the body, and, -indeed, in an unloved atmosphere I question if it is ever done. Some -folk the house won’t have at any price, and there are one or two places -I wot of that are blank still, because uncongenial people have them and -are incapable of living up to them properly; they put just the wrong -draperies in the windows, wrench the doors round into the wrong places, -and finally have hung the very worst colours on the walls, and, indeed, -have treated it in such an inconsiderate way that it never responds, and -remains silent, angular, unsatisfied, dead, as long as those people -remain within its shelter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6"></a>{6}</span></p> - -<p>Angelina, when she really must move therefore, must remember to think -over all these details.</p> - -<p>I envy everyone myself who has a really inherited house—a house which -has absorbed the family atmosphere for centuries, that has never been -passed from hand to hand and from family to family until it has no -recollection of who built it or what it was built for; a house for which -it is an intense and real pleasure to plan improvements, to deck as one -would deck a child of one’s own, knowing that what we spent on it or did -for it would benefit and please not only ourselves but those who are to -come after us. Yes; hopeless Radical as I am in everything else, I am -Conservative indeed in the house I would have if I could; but in these -days of progress, when most people grow rich, and many only use their -dwelling-place as a shelter, and don’t think of it as a home, I am -constantly being pained to see retired city men and lawyers—the two -classes which become really wealthy, taking over the delightful places -which once owned ‘county families,’ and ruining the society round with -their ostentation and the ridiculous airs only found in suburban places -where ‘society’ so-called consists of ‘twopence three-farthings looking -down on twopence,’ while the poor houses themselves are ruined too by -utterly inappropriate furnishing and by decorations suitable only for an -ordinary ‘mansion,’ furnished by giving <i>carte blanche</i> to some -enterprising and advertising tradesman.</p> - -<p>Should Angelina have made her first home in the family dwelling-place, -she will never have to learn what moving house really means. She can -allow her roots to sink as deeply as she likes into the kindly soil, and -she can make it all as charming as she will, because she will know that -all she does will only benefit her own; but as there are indeed few -nowadays who can contemplate this (for even the absorbers of the old -places round London never think of the generation behind them, and often -and often cut up the land for eligible building sites, with as little -compunction as one cuts up a cake at a school-feast: only taking care it -shall go as far as it can), we need not dwell on this aspect of the -case, but on the one that should be the motive of this chapter, namely, -moving house.</p> - -<p>If you are tolerably happy in the neighbourhood you know, pray take my -advice and remain there; there are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7"></a>{7}</span> sure to be discomforts of some kind -or other in any locality. I have never yet come across anyone who was -perfectly satisfied with his or her belongings; certainly I have never -met anyone who had not bitter complaint to make about the special -locality he or she inhabited, and yet who did not ruffle up their -feathers the moment any stranger found fault with it. But a -neighbourhood is like a house, and requires locally knowing; and if we -are for ever changing our neighbourhood, we can never feel at home -anywhere.</p> - -<p>No doubt it is an unfashionable idea nowadays, this clinging to one -place; but I think, if more consideration were given to the subject, -life would be much better than it is at present, for far more good can -be done by those who are able to help their poorer neighbours, should -they remain year after year in the same place; for they are thus enabled -to know them thoroughly, to sift the deserving from the hopeless, and -finally to interest themselves in such a way in the real life around -them that the place in which fate has placed them is in some measure -better for their having made their home there. And this cannot be done -satisfactorily by mere birds of passage, who have no ‘vested interests’ -in the place, and are ready to be off at a minute’s notice, just because -they think a change would be nice.</p> - -<p>And once having made up your minds that a change of house is imperative, -I advise you to ponder seriously and at great length over the pros and -cons of a residence in the same neighbourhood, before finally -determining to plant your roots elsewhere. I think what makes a -residence in the suburbs almost unendurable is this mania for change, -for we no sooner begin to know people there and like them than we find -they are becoming uneasy; they fancy the place is unhealthy, someone has -been rude, the nicest people have not called—as if the nicest people -ever did rush to call without introductions of some sort or other—and -they are off impatiently before they have entered into the life of a -place they condemn ruthlessly because they do not really know what it is -like.</p> - -<p>How long does it take to know a place? Well, if you are lucky enough to -go there with really good introductions, I should think six months; if -you know no one, and are dependent on chance, or the vicar of the -parish, you may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8"></a>{8}</span> never know it at all; but, in ordinary cases, and where -people have had their edges clipped by really good society, you ought to -know quite as many people as you wish to in about three years.</p> - -<p>Therefore, if you have begun your residence in the suburbs, and have a -nice church, a nice doctor, and nice friends, stay there; you don’t know -how deeply your roots are planted until you begin to drag them up. If -you are a Londoner, on no account be persuaded by artistic accounts of -country delights to leave your beloved pavements and the exquisite -freedom of a town life and surroundings: and if you are born and have -lived among cabbages and roses—if you love the country, and can -interest yourself mildly in the continual changes that are going on -around you in your neighbours’ houses and the cottages round -about—remain there; and be thankful for tastes which are innocent if -they are circumscribed, and often result in a far nobler life than that -made up mostly from excitement and dissipation; because anyone who can -and will live cheerfully in the country, making work for the labourer, -and employing folk in pure air, and in decent habitations, does much -more for the human race than he wots of, and should be encouraged to do -so in any manner that one possibly can.</p> - -<p>I am often being told that the country is a far cheaper place to live in -than London; but I have tried both, and I know better. In the first -place, in London you can do precisely what you like, and, provided your -likes are not openly eccentric, no one will interfere with you. You can -have ten friends or ten thousand acquaintances. You may wear one dress -as long as it will hold together, and no one will doubt your -capabilities of being respectable because of your shabby attire. You may -get up when you like, go to bed when you like, need not give to any -charity if you are not charitably disposed, need not keep a carriage, -because you can at any moment hail any vehicle, and go anywhere you -like; and, above all, can be so easily amused, and at so cheap a rate, -that one need hardly put down ‘amusements’ in our schedule at all.</p> - -<p>Now in the country we must have some sort of a carriage if we wish to -get outside our own immediate neighbourhood and mix with our -fellow-creatures; from<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9"></a>{9}</span> the humble ‘four-wheel’ of the farmer’s wife, -and the curate’s donkey-cart, to the landau, waggonette, or smart little -victoria of the other richer folk: all must have some other means of -progression than would be afforded by one’s own legs. Our incomes are -common property, and, should we have two new dresses in the course of -the year, are a prey for all those dear creatures who spend their time -in being charitable on other folk’s money. We must have a garden, and we -obtain a scant supply of worm-eaten fruit, inferior flowers, and -out-of-season vegetables, at a price for which we could have obtained -the very best stores of Covent Garden—for by out-of-season I don’t mean -that our pears and asparagus come before their time, but considerably -after the period when they have become cheap in the market in London; -and, finally, we cannot be amused without half ruining ourselves by -constant rushes to town, by subscribing largely to Mudie, and by taking -in every newspaper we can lay our hands on if we are readers, and if we -are fond of finery, by sending for constant new garments, not because we -want them, but because we really want to see what is being worn. Of -course rates, rents, and taxes are much less in the country; but rent in -London is less than it used to be, and in unfashionable neighbourhoods -is not too exorbitant; but even with the rent considered, I still -maintain one can live more cheaply in London than elsewhere, and can -most certainly live longer there and far more pleasantly.</p> - -<p>So I do most strongly advise country mice to remain country mice, unless -they make the change very young; and I implore town mice to cling to -their pavements, for nothing short of a residence for generations in the -country can teach one how to live under the microscope which is put over -one the moment a stranger goes into the country to live, and nothing -save being born to it could ever reconcile one to having one’s most -intimate personal concerns discussed at the bar of every public house, -over every shop counter, in every parlour, as they are discussed in an -ordinary rural place, or to having one’s most innocent speeches repeated -until one would certainly not recognise them, did they return to us -after their last repetition.</p> - -<p>I declare that twenty years of residence in and about the country have -never reconciled me to all this, or caused me<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10"></a>{10}</span> to take the profound -interest in my turn in my neighbours, in the way that aborigines do to -reconcile and repay themselves for their own sojourn under the -microscope, and which a country born and bred individual takes as -naturally as he does his absence from the theatres, and his utter lack -of interest on any other topic than the ever-absorbing one of ‘who is -going to marry whom,’ or who is not, and what the curate’s last baby was -called, and why that special name was selected; and, therefore, I never -lose an opportunity of warning the ducks to remain in the pond, and the -hens in the farmyard where they were hatched, for I am quite sure my -experience is not a solitary one by any means, and has often been the -fate of those who went into the country because no one warned them that -the delights thereof were mere snares and delusions, and who would give -anything to return, only they cannot afford another move.</p> - -<p>And I have no doubt that the country mice are as miserable in the town -in their turn: they miss the intimate conversations, the familiarity of -their friendships; they pine for fresh air, and weep over ‘smuts;’ the -noise and bustle we love so dearly bewilders and distresses them; they -object to putting on gloves and a bonnet whenever they go out, resent -being unable to ‘run in’ at any moment to their acquaintances, dread the -streets, see disease lurking at every corner, in every glass of milk, in -each vestment fresh from the laundress, and, pining away, become pale, -ill, and wretched, and put it down to London, when really the misery -lies entirely in themselves.</p> - -<p>Have I said enough to show my readers that when they are contemplating a -move they should do their utmost to remain in the same neighbourhood, or -at all events in one with the main workings of which they are in a -measure familiar? I think so; and if at the same time I tell them to -remember the church where their children were christened, the doctor who -helped them over so many hours of pain and trouble, and finally the -friends they made—and old friends should never be given up on any -account whatever—I believe they will see that a change even for the -better has always its trials, and that a great many things should be -considered before up-rooting takes place, and a family is landed in an -entirely new locality, that, be it as nice<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11"></a>{11}</span> as it may be, has its own -interests, in which the new-comer has neither part nor parcel, and its -unwritten laws and small rules of etiquette, which are as rigid as they -are incomprehensible to an outsider.</p> - -<p>I think in every neighbourhood there should be also some agent to send -out lists of all the pros and cons, the ins and outs of a neighbourhood, -which should show you at once the number and styles of the different -churches, the state of society (it could be ‘young,’ ‘army,’ ‘lawyers,’ -or anything almost), the schools, the advantages and disadvantages, and, -in fact, all the particulars one wants to know. They should truthfully -and in confidence give one all the required information, and then one -would not run the risk of making mistakes. But as this seems impossible, -a residence for a short time in a furnished house (one’s own house could -in turn be let to some one who wants to investigate our neighbourhood) -should be indulged in. A very few weeks would inform us of all we want -to know; for even if we did not become acquainted with one soul -personally, we should have looked at the people and taken stock of their -windows, from which I think one can always learn so much, and can -quietly make our own inquiries about schools, churches, and the rest of -the vital points of interest about a new residence, and come as quietly -to the conclusion as to whether the neighbourhood will suit us or not, -before going to the expense of moving and decorating to suit ourselves -and our belongings—an expense which once incurred often binds us hard -and fast to a place from which we would give our ears to remove.</p> - -<p>Then comes the question of the house. This should be large enough to -take all the family and allow for any possible additions; but at the -same time Angelina will have to remember that when the boys are at -school there will always be a room for a friend, and therefore the -question of spare rooms is not such a vital one as it was. She will also -have to legislate for the girls’ own room—probably a room for a -governess, though a resident governess should be avoided unless the -house is a good size, and unless she is an absolute necessity. There is -the schoolroom to think of, and she must contemplate—perhaps -ruefully—the nurseries, with an eye to adapting them to another -purpose, when that saddest of all days comes when we cannot deceive -ourselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12"></a>{12}</span> into believing a nursery is any longer necessary, and we have -to turn our backs on our youth and the dear small child-inhabitants at -the same time. A house without a nursery is never as joyous or lively as -one that possesses such a room, and it’s no use trying to believe this -to be the case. Still it is equally of no use to set apart the best room -in the house for that most pleasant of all chambers, if there is no -chance of nursery children, and if all are merged into the young -gentlemen and ladies, who are fast growing up and eagerly longing to -launch their boats on the sea of life for a cruise of their own.</p> - -<p>When the house is positively and actually selected and the move -imminent, when the lease is signed and the decorations are in train, the -first step to take is to get several estimates from firms who are -accustomed to do nothing else save move furniture. In nothing does price -fluctuate so much as it does in these estimates, and when we moved from -Dorsetshire to Shortlands there was actually and positively a difference -of 100<i>l.</i> in the highest and lowest of the many estimates we had, the -person selected being just 100<i>l.</i> lower in his price than the man who -made us our first offer.</p> - -<p>To move luxuriously we should have taken house number two for a quarter -before we are obliged to leave our own. Of course if we could persuade -the landlord to let us have it for six weeks it would be better; but not -many landlords are as accommodating as this, and unfortunately many of -us cannot afford a double rent even for such a short space of time. -Still an effort should be made, as undoubtedly much is wasted in a -hurried move—in an enforced turning out on quarter day into another -house on the same date.</p> - -<p>It is only people in very straitened circumstances who accept in these -artistic days of ours the landlord’s scheme of decoration. Formerly -there were no ideas in the head of an ordinary paterfamilias on the -subject of paint and paper, and as long as all was clean and in good -condition he did not agitate himself in the least about his surroundings -as far as mere colour and ‘decoration’ were concerned, and he cheerfully -spread his Turkey carpet and placed his heavy sideboard and mahogany -table and chairs in position, regardless of the fact that the ‘good’ -flock paper and vulgar<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13"></a>{13}</span> graining made up a <i>tout ensemble</i> as utterly -depressing as it was tasteless and absolutely without character.</p> - -<p>But now, I am glad to think, what is already in one’s possession governs -in some measure what alterations are to be made, and as fate never yet -was so propitious as to put one down straight from one house into -another which was exactly decorated to our taste, we may be quite sure -that there are many things to do to any place to which we may -contemplate moving; therefore I say if possible let the two leases, -<i>i.e.</i> of your present and your future house, run side by side for six -weeks at least: so shall you move comfortably, and be able to make those -alterations that are perfectly sure to be necessary.</p> - -<p>A new house should never by any chance be entered in the September -quarter; it is astonishing what an amount of coal and reckless -expenditure of gas is required to obtain even moderate warmth in a new -house; and furthermore most appalling discoveries are apt to be made, as -soon as the fires are lighted, of the manner in which floors, doors, and -window-frames are capable of shrinking the moment warmth penetrates the -place; these we can circumvent in summer, but the winter is not a time -to run any risks of discovering that the more we try to warm the house -the wider open gape the cracks in all the woodwork, and that nothing we -can do will really warm a place, more and more exposed as days go by to -the four winds of heaven. Therefore, if the future house has never been -lived in, enter it in June, or even in March; there will then be ample -time to find out all faults in the structure before the winter arrives -with all its concomitant miseries.</p> - -<p>Delightful Mr. Aspinall, for whose existence I can never be sufficiently -thankful, has made house decoration mere child’s play compared to what -it used to be; and, armed with his paints and a written description of -what each room is to be like when done, the foreman can be left to his -own devices, and the old house can be returned to with a safe -conscience; for if careful selection has been made of each paper and its -own particular paint, no risks are run of finding, as I found when I -made my last move, that owing to the peculiar freaks of the painter -there were seven shades of blue in my hall, and another separate shade -of the same colour in a bed-room that was designed for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14"></a>{14}</span> gem, and was -becoming under the wretch’s brush the exact shade of a butcher’s apron, -which was his own idea of a complete match to the ‘Berry’ paper—really -a good hedge-sparrow egg blue-green! If only he had had Aspinall’s neat -little tins, I should not have had to stand over him all the time he -mixed his paint, and most of the time he was applying it, and could not -see at the last that he was wrong and I was absolutely right. So if -those about to move will leave their decorators instructions to use -Aspinall and nothing else, they can be absolutely sure that their paint -will be right, and not a perpetual eyesore, as it almost invariably is -when left to the tender mercies of the ordinary decorator, who considers -he has an eye for colour, and is as obstinate as half-educated people -invariably are.</p> - -<p>Briefly, then, the first thing we have to do when we contemplate moving -is to really make up our minds that such a step is absolutely necessary, -because no one who has never moved can understand the mental misery -caused by tearing up one’s roots even from an uncongenial soil; -secondly, to carefully select a house likely to be our home for the rest -of our lives; thirdly, to still more carefully choose and put in train a -scheme of decoration that will harmonise in some measure with our -cherished possessions; and fourthly, to endeavour not to be forced at -the last to move hurriedly or into a new house in the winter. Once these -details are remembered and enforced, the real process of moving may -begin, and be got over as soon as the new house is ready for the -inmates.</p> - -<p>The mere move itself should be left entirely in the hands of the people -employed. Personally, I recommend for any one in the suburbs Bachelar, -of Croydon, who moved our furniture most successfully in the south of -England. Peace, of Bridgewater and Bournemouth, is equally to be -commended. Unfortunately, I know no one in the north, but I have no -doubt there are many firms there; but in any case all should be written -to, and estimates should be carefully considered before definitely -selecting any one from among their number; but all one’s belongings -should be in covered furniture vans: open vans or railway trucks are -ruination, and should never for one moment be used; and no estimate -which includes moving any of the ‘goods and chattels’ in open trucks -should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15"></a>{15}</span> considered seriously, as even the roughest furniture suffers -considerably by being carted about in this primitive manner, and is -spoiled to a far greater extent than the mere difference between the two -kinds of conveyances would pay for.</p> - -<p>The books and pictures should be packed first, and unpacked last; the -carpets should be rolled up, after a good shaking, with camphor-bags -inside, even for the shortest transit; the straw, &c., used in packing -them in the most carefully supervised vans having been proved a most -comfortable home for small and teasing animals, which, discovering that -carpets, pillows, and beds are warmer and more comfortable on the whole -than straw, forsake their habitations for eligible residences among our -properties if we have not made them unbearable with camphor and a good -sprinkling of Keating’s insect powder before they leave our hands. Each -room-full of furniture should be placed ready to be again put down in -the special room for which it is intended. The carpets should remain -rolled until the last of the movers is departed; then after the floors -have been most thoroughly scrubbed with carbolic soap, the carpets -should be well beaten, and should be relaid if possible by the hands of -some ‘professional,’ for on the proper laying of a carpet depends far -more of the wear than we quite realise. The best furniture mover cannot -resist—please remember this!—the exquisite temptation to which he is -exposed to stuff up odd corners, and to prevent shaking by making -‘buffers’ out of our pillows, cushions, and odds and ends generally; and -as he furthermore has most excellent wrapping material in blankets, -small rugs, and other similar trifles, the amateur must come to the -rescue of her goods, or the professional packer will be much too strong -for her.</p> - -<p>In really well-organised and well-managed households each bed pillow and -mattress should have its loose and washable cover sewn tightly over it -of whitey-brown crash; these covers should be washed every year—if -possible, every six months, and if these are arranged for they will in a -great measure protect our property from the dirt and certain amount of -almost indispensable damage, which would accrue to them were they left -to the tender mercies of the remover, who would at once use them as -mentioned above, and would not disdain to walk upon them cheerfully,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16"></a>{16}</span> -did they seem to require more pressing down than a mere arrangement with -the hands would effect; but if they are not so defended before the move -is actually in progress, these covers should be made, or else great -sheets of coarse crash, such as is used for packing purposes, should be -strongly sewn round them, or inevitably we shall have to send all the -bedding to the upholsterers to be ‘re-done’—<i>i.e.</i> picked over and -readjusted, and the ticks washed also. The blankets must be even more -carefully protected. I have seen them wrapped round iron bedsteads, and -large mirrors, and with boots and even knives inside their folds, and in -any case they are ruthlessly annexed for packing purposes. Now to -circumvent this I strongly advise that space should be left at the top -of the box of each person inhabiting each separate room, and into this -space the folded blankets should go, to be ready for use at once, and to -be out of the way of the ‘ravagers.’ The clothes that should have -occupied the space in the box can be most safely left in the chests of -drawers and wardrobes, for ‘personal property’ of all kinds is -invariably respected, and not the most ruthless of packers would dream -of enfolding grimy objects in body linen or even among the folds of -heavy winter dresses. These are invariably left exactly as one last -placed them, and are emphatically respected, while even new blankets -appear to have an irresistible attraction for them, and are annexed at -once, while venerable ones suffer in the most appalling way conceivable.</p> - -<p>It is absolutely impossible to move in anything like comfort or peace -unless the juvenile members of the family and their nurses are ‘boarded -out.’</p> - -<p>It is astonishing how very kind people are to each other when this -trying work is proceeding, and there are few among us, if indeed there -are any, who are not possessed of relatives, or at least dear friends, -who will stretch their houses to the extent of taking in some of the -children for the inside of a week; but if there are none on whom we can -rely, the children should be sent to an hotel, or lodgings should be -taken for them for a week; for if this is not done we should be quite -sure to be driven mad by them, by the utter helplessness of their -nurses, and by the certainty that we should have them all ill from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17"></a>{17}</span> -draughts, the scrappy meals, the uncertain hours, and the thousand and -one absolutely unpreventable events that are familiar to every mother, -and therefore need not be detailed here.</p> - -<p>Let us suppose, therefore, that our move is to commence on a Tuesday, an -excellent day, which leaves Monday for our private packings, for the men -to pack the books, china, and ornaments (the number of my possessions in -these several ways always eliciting most amusing comments), and for us -to clear out the children and nurses; these latter, by the way, should -have carefully packed all the children’s things the week before in boxes -marked ‘Nursery’ in large chalk letters, and should take with them to -their lodgings only what is absolutely necessary. We will then proceed -up-stairs, put all the blankets away as suggested just now, see our -garments are so bestowed that they are safe, the silver and jewellery in -the charge of the man-servant if there be one, in the charge of the -parlour-maid if there be none, and then we should see placards are up in -each room, inscribed with the name of the room into which the things are -to go; and our task at the other end will be much simplified if we also -attach labels to each very heavy piece of furniture, taking care similar -labels are already placed in a prominent position in the rooms they are -intended for.</p> - -<p>The packing of a big house takes about two days, and on the evening of -the first day two of the servants and one of the household, the eldest -daughter if possible, should go on to the new house; if, however, there -is a long journey before them they should start almost as soon as the -vans come, as the first will arrive Wednesday morning at the new abode, -and someone should be there to receive it. The mistress and master -should remain until Wednesday night, when they too should go on to the -new abode, travelling by night if necessary, and the oldest and -trustworthiest servant should be left to see the house is cleaned down -by a couple of charwomen, and to hand the keys to a representative of -the landlord, who should go over the house with an agent on the side of -the remover to see all was left properly and undamaged by the out-going -tenant; then the maid or man could rest at a friend’s house or at the -local inn, and join the rest of the party on Thursday morning.</p> - -<p>It is absolutely necessary that a separate hamper of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18"></a>{18}</span> food ready cooked -and sufficient to supply the household for three days should be sent on -with the first batch of domestics, and the hamper should contain kettle, -cups and saucers, plates, and knives and forks, besides the actual food. -The cook will not be able to be spared from putting her belongings in -order to cook eatables, but an ample supply is necessary; for, as all -will be working hard, all will require sustenance. This hamper should be -at once put into the larder in the new house, the door locked, and the -key kept by the servant herself.</p> - -<p>The contents of the servants’ bedrooms, the kitchen, and one -sitting-room, and, if possible, one bedroom besides, should be -despatched first, and as each article is brought in someone should seat -herself on a camp-stool in the hall and should call out ‘Dining-room,’ -‘Servants’ bedroom,’ ‘Blue room,’ or otherwise name its destination; so -will the movers avoid the pleasing sight, that met my eyes when I moved -last, of the complete contents of three rooms placed higgledy-piggledy -in the centre of one chamber, heaped up like ‘leaves in Vallombrosa,’ -where the wretched painters were dawdling over their work still; the -painters who had caused this chaos by insisting that none of the other -rooms were ready, though none were as absolutely unfinished as that in -which they had arranged this pleasing reception for me.</p> - -<p>Thank goodness, my rage was so extreme that I turned them out neck and -crop, else, verily, I believe they would be here at this very moment; -but I always determined to use my own sufferings as a warning to others, -and I relate this experience in the hope that no one will attempt a move -until the painters are out, and unless they will manage it on the lines -here laid down for them.</p> - -<p>The men who move are always supposed to lay carpets, hang pictures and -curtains, and replace the books in cases. Whenever money is a very great -object—and, in that case, no move should be contemplated unless it were -a matter of health or the bread-winner’s change of employment—I -strongly advise that they should do nothing of the kind.</p> - -<p>In the first place, the carpets should not be placed until the last man -has departed; and in the second, it is infinitely better to have not -only a regular carpet-layer, but a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19"></a>{19}</span> man accustomed to hang pictures and -arrange brackets, mirrors, &c. I personally have a great many pictures -and odds and ends, and I have twice had a most excellent man from -Shoolbred’s on these occasions, who came properly provided with nails, -copper-wire, and all necessary tools, and who, for a little under 3<i>l.</i>, -quietly, swiftly, and skilfully placed the pictures, &c., in their -places, with just a very little supervision from me; for, like all those -who have no regular art education, he had the usual mania for hanging -everything ever so much higher than it ought to be—a mania I most -successfully and promptly combated! But beyond this, and giving him a -few directions as to the placing of the pictures in due order, I left -matters to him; and in three days—for, like an angel, he remained his -Saturday half-holiday at my urgent request—all the walls were decorated -and finished properly, which they could not have been in double the time -had I been forced to rely on the help of those in the house.</p> - -<p>The china and books should be the last things arranged, and this cannot -be completed, I fear, in the week; but, thanks to my plan of short -curtains and no blinds, any window can be arranged in exactly ten -minutes. For, of course, the slight brass rods should be in place before -the move begins; and the carpets being square are laid in about half an -hour each, the carpet-layer going swiftly from room to room, and the -maids replacing the furniture, with the help of a man, as he leaves the -room; and as once curtains are up and carpets down the worst of the -battle is over, we may, perhaps, even arrange the china and books before -Sunday, and so spend in truth a real day of rest.</p> - -<p>I have all the decorative china arranged on a tiny folding-table we call -a choir-table, because it is brought into use for choir teas and other -similar festivities, and from this are picked out quickly and easily the -distinctive pieces devoted to each room: the book-shelves are up, and -then the books, being packed in something like order, are arranged, and, -in consequence, carefully done. A move need never take more than ten -days; and it would be simply indefensible were not the house absolutely -and completely straight in a fortnight; and, above all, let the -servants’ apartments and the nurseries be put in order first. Servants, -as a rule, are far less able, both by temperament<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20"></a>{20}</span> and education, than -we are, to bear being ‘put out of their ways,’ and being over-worked and -over-tired resent, as no really trained and well-disciplined nature -resents, the small discomforts that we know will soon be entirely -forgotten, but that are apt at the time to cause friction, and, if not -properly legislated for, may even lose us a good and valuable servant.</p> - -<p>And, inasmuch as we have had an education and advantages, and inherit in -some cases the disciplined nature of forefathers and mothers equally -disciplined and educated, we must show that we have profited by these -said advantages at such times as these; and whereas we know that our -maids have had none, we should consider them, and look after them much -as we should after children, being quite sure we shall be rewarded after -our struggles by cheerful faces and willing arms, that are twice as -cheerful and willing as they would be did we not remember to tell them -how tired they must be, and to see they have extra food, and a small -amount of coddling even, to carry them over the present stress of work.</p> - -<p>The children should not return until one sees their rooms are dry and -warm and straight. This, like all the rest of the move, must be done by -organisation, and the rooms could be properly ready by Saturday night; -but each maid must be told off to the different rooms, and the mistress -and her daughter (and I do hope, for her sake, she may have that most -invaluable of all possessions—a grown-up daughter) must never relax -their supervision, else sundry gigglings and rompings about will hinder -work, and denote that, like most young feminine creatures, the maids are -disorganised by the presence of the opposite sex, and are endeavouring -to combine amusement and work in a most unsatisfactory and impossible -manner.</p> - -<p>The master of the house, poor creature! will confine his energies in -most cases to paying for the move, or, if he be very exemplary, after -arranging the wine-cellar he will see to the books and help with the -pictures. I have even heard rumours of men who are most useful and -helpful at similar crises; but as I have never yet found any male rise -above the discomfort sufficiently to be of real use in the matter, I -must put down this as a mere rumour, only hoping that it may be true. He -is, however, invaluable<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21"></a>{21}</span> when it comes to managing the men who come to -move, and should be considered angelic if he does not grumble over his -scrappy dinner, or resent the fact that, unless he can go to an hotel, -he is not likely to have any decent meals for at least three days—a -fact a woman rather enjoys than deplores, as she recognises that for -those three days at least there are no orders to give and no regular -planning of food to be done.</p> - -<p>The first few days in a new house are replete with misery. On the -commencement of our tenancy we are literally besieged by the tradesmen -coming to endeavour to secure our custom; but we should be wise if from -some friend we were to obtain a list of those who are really reliable, -until we are able to send round to the butchers, and obtain lists of -prices from all for comparison, and have time to discover which of the -local grocers will serve us at co-operative prices for ready money. But -under no circumstances do I advise allowing a grocer’s man to call for -orders: a grocer’s bill being the one of all others that is liable to -swell to gigantic proportions. The moment a daily visit is permitted, -the maids appear to rack their brains to see what they can order, and I -have saved myself at least five shillings a week since I put a veto on -the daily call, which seemed a signal for them to discover that -hearthstones, vinegar, treacle, and similar ‘intangible’ objects were -required; and by ‘intangible’ I mean articles that might be wanted, as -it is impossible to regulate the supplies of these as one can other -goods; and as I have had far less of all since I send a written order to -either Shoolbred or Whiteley—whose men are not naturally in the least -likely to press for orders, and whose sole duties consist in bringing -the things, and receiving payment for the same—I strongly recommend all -housewives either to deal with them, or to go to the local grocers -themselves, and at once impress on them that no orders given in the -kitchen are to be attended to under any pretext whatever.</p> - -<p>The tradesman difficulty is the first misery, and then come the miseries -of making acquaintance really with our house and surroundings. We are -sure to discover a thousand small vexatious omissions in the house -itself, and above all—‘<i>miserere mei!</i>’—will we see with dismay that -the furniture which looked quite beautiful in our old home has -suddenly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22"></a>{22}</span> and in the most unprovoked manner, become absolutely shabby -and miserable.</p> - -<p>This is an unanswerable problem, but it is a fact, and I can only -account for it by suggesting that the new paper and paint are to blame, -and that the sooner we get our furniture done up and rejuvenated the -sooner shall we become reconciled to our new house; but, of course, this -costs money—at a time, too, when money has been flowing away a little -too freely to be pleasant—and, no doubt, we may have to wait: another -reason why a move is trying, and why, like marriage, it should never be -undertaken lightly or unadvisedly; and at first we must make the best of -our surroundings, being duly thankful for the square carpets and the -light short curtains that save us so much piecing and planning, and -looking forward to new cretonne and tapestry as soon as we can afford -it.</p> - -<p>Then comes the misery of making new friends; and here I would say a word -of warning to those who go to an entirely unknown place, and have -absolutely no introductions. The best and nicest folk do not rush to -call on new people unless they have some knowledge of them; therefore -wait a little and ‘gang warily’ before accepting as your <i>fidus Achates</i> -the first lady who enters your doors, for doubtless her call is caused -by curiosity, and because she has but few acquaintances and wishes -ardently to have more.</p> - -<p>Of course, if you have an immense house and heaps of money, everyone -calls on the house and on your income, and you can soon discriminate for -yourselves who is likely to be desirable and who is not; but the -ordinary householder should be very cautious about the acquaintances she -makes until she feels her feet, and can find out somehow—it is from the -clergyman and his wife generally—who is who, taking care in her turn to -tell enough of herself and her forbears to show that she is respectable -at any rate, and obtaining in due course the same sort of information -about those with whom she is surrounded.</p> - -<p>In London—dear, lovely, unsnobbish London—one can do absolutely as one -likes about everything, and nowhere is society as good as it is there. -In the country the very best society is dull. In London one can meet -with the only society worth having, in my opinion: the society of those -who either in art, literature, science, or politics have ‘done<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23"></a>{23}</span> -something,’ and are making the history of the world. From this country -folk are absolutely debarred: another reason, dear readers, why I say -live in London, if you can in any way contrive to do so, and do not -leave it on any pretext whatever. But as man must associate with his -kind or perish, no doubt there are compensating elements in country -society that are evident to those who have lived among it all their -lives. At any rate, we can live more unselfishly in the country, and do -more good to those of our poorer brethren than we can in these crowded -streets, where they are nothing to us save a probable source of -infection, and a certain source of annoyance and dread.</p> - -<p>To sum up this chapter briefly, then: let no move be made, unless such a -course is absolutely imperative; let it be done in order and with -regularity; and make no rushes into friendship in your new neighbourhood -until you have discovered who is who, and made due inquiries on this -subject; and, above all, under all circumstances, if fate has absolutely -obliged you to make that particular move, make the best of it, and don’t -always either mentally or openly contrast your present abode -unfavourably and bad-temperedly with your last location. You have to -live where you have pitched your tent: therefore, bad as the place may -appear to you, try and smother your feelings until use has made you -reconciled to your new surroundings, even if ‘home’ has not asserted its -charm and caused you to become fond of the place, because your best and -dearest are there with you. It will be an effort, I can assure you, to -do so, but if you are strong-minded enough to suffer in silence, you -will be repaid for so doing a thousand-fold.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> -<small>HALLS AND PASSAGES.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">The</span> first part of the new house that should be attacked by the -decorator’s art is undoubtedly the hall: and as undoubtedly it is here -that the ordinary speculative builder surpasses himself; for, as a rule, -the moment one opens the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24"></a>{24}</span> front door one falls up the staircase, or else -one is confronted by a long, hopeless passage, which strikes a chill -into the stoutest heart, especially if the owner of that heart has not -had much experience in the art of ‘how to make the best’ of a very bad -state of affairs.</p> - -<p>But in these days of ours nothing in the way of amelioration is -impossible; and, indeed, were I given <i>carte blanche</i> I would undertake -to make the most hideous, square, ‘impossible’ house a bower of beauty. -That sounds very egotistical, but I really do not mean it to be so; I -only should like to impress upon my readers that never before has so -much attention been given to decoration of houses as is given now, and -that by the aid of carefully planned woodwork and by using arches on the -plan of the Moorish fretwork first introduced by Liberty, a square room -can be made picturesque, and a long narrow passage pleasant to -contemplate, by simply putting up a series of slight arches, or else by -curtaining off portions of it by aid of simple wooden partitions, such -as are illustrated on page 25. I am very proud indeed of this sketch, as -it was made from a brilliant inspiration of mine for a house where the -instant one opened the door leading into the street, one was confronted -by the stairs on one hand, and a long uninteresting straight passage on -the other; and I was indeed pleased when I suddenly saw that a couple of -arches could be cut out from what might have been a partition placed -along the foot of the stairs from one side of the hall to the other, and -that the arch at the stair foot could be curtained by a double curtain -or pair of curtains, which would fall together when anyone raised it to -go upstairs; while the other arch could be draped either to the left or -right with a heavy piece of material according to the position of the -wall, or whether there is anything in the way of a cupboard or door to -be concealed.</p> - -<p>Treated in this way, the ordinary tiresome little hall of a London house -is metamorphosed, at once, and, as the wooden framework can be so -arranged that it can be screwed into the wall and so be made removable -at will, I am quite sure this notion of mine will ‘catch on,’ as the -Yankees say, more especially as Messrs. Wallace & Co., of Curtain Road, -E.C., are willing to erect it ready painted and varnished at about 1<i>l.</i> -a foot; that is to say, if the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25"></a>{25}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_1" id="ill_1"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-025_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-025_sml.jpg" width="311" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 1.—Hall Arrangement." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 1.—Hall Arrangement.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26"></a>{26}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">passage were six feet wide the arches would cost about 6<i>l.</i>, if twelve -12<i>l.</i>, and so on. The arches could be enamelled to match the hall -decorations, and the curtains could be of some heavy material like the -‘Elvira’ tapestry, or the beautiful jute velvet or Bokhara plush, which -is undoubtedly <i>the</i> material for draping, while even the humbler serge -is not to be despised; but in this case the curtain in the stair arch -should be made double and very full, a great deal of the appearance of -this ‘notion’ depending on full graceful curtains and proper draperies.</p> - -<p>It would even be possible in a hall arranged like this to have one of -the hideous hat and coat rails which die so hard; but even here I again -repeat my warning against these monstrosities; they can never look like -anything save Bluebeard’s wives hanging up against the wall, and are -always a temptation to the gentle burglar or the common area sneak who -delights to make off with coats and hats even if he can find nothing -else; but if the master of the house declines to allow himself to be -educated up to keeping his garments out of sight, he may be humoured by -allowing him a place behind the hall curtain, which should be then -properly draped in such a manner that the coats and hats would be -completely hidden; a china or brass receptacle for umbrellas could be -put on the other side of the convenient curtain also, and so all these -most undecorative items will be put out of sight, thus causing the -arches to be as useful as they are undoubtedly ornamental.</p> - -<p>In many houses the staircase goes up at the side and does not face the -front door, and here, too, the arches come in with great effect. I mean -in those houses where there is a straight passage from the front door to -a room opposite which faces the door and so ends the house; in the -passage there are usually two doors, one on either side, belonging to -the dining and morning rooms, the end room being often enough a small -back room, or, as was the case in our house at Shortlands, even the -drawing-room itself; there the passage opens out on the right hand and -discloses the staircase close by the door and a passage leading to the -lavatory; here the arches conceal the staircase at once and also the -latter arrangement, and make a decoration out of what is always to me a -great eyesore. In one case where the arches have been erected the -passage led to the servants’<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27"></a>{27}</span> pantry, the door of which always stood -invitingly open, disclosing sink and washings-up generally to the eyes -of the critical caller; the curtain conceals all that now splendidly, -and the whole arrangement gives an idea of space and ‘veiled -possibilities’ which is really marvellous.</p> - -<p>When we came to our present abode the hall here struck me with dismay, -and it was some time before I could understand in the least what could -be done with it; it was exactly like a telescope, with a hideous window -at one end, opening out on to several dead trees, and what looked like -the family washing, with doors appearing just where such doors should be -concealed, and, of course, it had beautiful marble papers and graining -and a brand-new dado of a dark and hideous design in varnished paper -too; the ‘decorations,’ however, I did not consider; but I racked my -brains about the long, narrow, awful passage called by courtesy ‘the -hall,’ and at last I had an inspiration. I ran a wooden partition -across, about ten feet from the end of the place, and behind that put in -a hot and cold water arrangement, and made it into a regular cloak-room; -opening out another door into that, which previously opened out into a -tiny passage leading into the fourth sitting-room, which would have been -absolutely unusable had not this been done; and then, by the aid of bent -laths and a little plaster, two arches were made in the passage, draped, -one to the right, the other to the left, with a ‘khelim,’ looped with -cords and tassels; and so I obtained what old Astley used to call a -‘wister’—<i>i.e.</i> a vista—and made a really decorated spot out of a most -commonplace passage. Of course all the coats and hats are in the -cloak-room, and there is nothing in the hall itself save the buffet -illustrated on next page, which is in old oak, and which always looks -nice, and forms a place where the cards of visitors can be placed, or -the letters from the post, or other trifles; a couple of chairs for -emergencies, the gong, and one of Mr. Pither’s beautiful red pots on a -bamboo stand holding one of the long-suffering Aspidistras, which will -live in draughts, and successfully bear uncomplainingly what would -certainly kill at once any other plant, completing the furniture of this -so-called hall.</p> - -<p>My readers will be amused to hear that since I wrote ‘From Kitchen to -Garret’ I have learned a very great<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28"></a>{28}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_2" id="ill_2"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-028_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-028_sml.jpg" width="435" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 2.—Oak Buffet." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 2.—Oak Buffet.</span> -</div> - -<p class="nind">many things; indeed, if I had not, I should most certainly not be -writing a second instalment of ‘furniture literature.’ However, as one -of these items is undoubtedly about the hall, I am now going to mention -it here at once. Reluctantly, but emphatically, have I come to the -conclusion that where hard wear is expected it is absolutely necessary -to have linoleum of some kind or the other on the floor. Of course a -great many well-regulated households are provided with nice tiles, which -I can never look at without envy; but as the majority of folks are not -so highly favoured, and as most households possess boys, and many<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29"></a>{29}</span> have -dogs too, I have regretfully discovered that, if a house is to be kept -clean and tidy, the hall must have some material to cover it that can be -washed daily, and so can be perpetually and properly kept in order. -There is a particularly pretty linoleum made by the Staines Linoleum -Company in Queen Victoria Street, E.C., which resembles tiny squares of -black and white marble, which looks very well down. Of course it is a -sham, and as such is to be deprecated, but I cannot help recommending -it, as it looks so clean and nice and bright, and would do admirably in -some halls; while for those who will not allow any shams anywhere in -their houses, nothing looks so nice as the darkest brown self-coloured -linoleum put down all over the passages and halls, with some six-foot -and even larger rugs about. The rugs must be as large as possible, as -little rugs are apt to slip and move under the servants’ feet. They also -have a most aggravating manner of turning up at the edges, and becoming -shabby; while the large rugs will wear for years, and stand really very -hard wear too. These are about 28<i>s.</i> at either Maple’s or Treloar’s, -and measure about three yards long by about one and a half yards wide. I -say about, as none of these rugs seem to me to be exactly the same size; -but this is near enough to give my readers some idea of how many they -would require if they elect to put them down in their halls. The smaller -rugs are about six feet long, and about four wide. These should have a -wide binding sown on at the back, top and bottom, with a few shots, or -else those round leaden weights used in ladies’ jackets, underneath the -binding to keep the ends down, and prevent the curling which is so -unsightly and tiresome in these small rugs, and on damp hall-floors -should be lined at the back with American leather.</p> - -<p>Linoleum should never be scrubbed with soap and water, for this removes -the pattern; but should be rubbed with a wet house-flannel to remove the -dirt, and then polished with sour milk and water; plain brown linoleum -should be kept in order with linseed oil (boiled) and turpentine mixed. -This is specially required at first; for, like all materials which have -no pattern on, it shows every footmark, and at first appears as if it -were going to wear villainously; but the oil and turpentine soon restore -it, and the rugs prevent the usual miserable effect of a plain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30"></a>{30}</span> -material, which—I cannot think why—always wears badly if left to -itself, and invariably looks untidy and shabby almost before it is down; -therefore we may consider it an axiom that, if we are not provided with -a good tiled floor, we cannot do better than have either the Staines -linoleum to simulate marble, or the plain linoleum and rugs—this for -preference. The linoleum should be washed daily with a damp duster, and -the rugs shaken, and once a week all should be cleaned with the linseed -oil and turpentine; this will double the wear, and insure all marks -being quite removed.</p> - -<p>Another thing which I have most certainly learned is, that, delightful -as felt looks and feels, and that beautiful as are the colours in which -it is made, it is absolutely worthless for real wear. I had it laid down -in the Watford house, when we went there, all over the halls and -passages, and on the stairs too, and was quite delighted with the soft, -warm feel thereof, and the appearance was equally pleasing; but we had -not been there six months before that wretched stuff became the curse of -the household; every single drop of water, every thread, or morsel of -dust, every footmark showed; and from morning until night something had -to be done in the shape of brushing and dusting, and, even then, we were -never clean and never tidy. And then, in addition to its other sins, if -the abominable material did not begin to go into holes; all along the -edges of the stairs tiny white spots showed where the under felt was -working through, and before a year was out all the wretched stuff had to -be removed, and replaced in the hall with dark brown linoleum and rugs; -and on the stairs by Pither’s beautiful dark-blue blossom-patterned -Brussels carpet, which after a year’s hard wear looks really better than -it did the first day it was put down; and I can never understand how -anyone can ever recommend felt, as I am convinced it is absolutely -worthless as a floor-covering, and that nothing can make it at all -satisfactory; and as I still see it in shops, and notice it pressed on -the attention of those about to furnish, I consider it my duty to warn -my readers against it, for if they succumb to its fascinating -appearance, they will inevitably suffer from its possession in the same -way that I did.</p> - -<p>Another thing I most strongly advise my readers to possess themselves -of, if in any way they can, is a really<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31"></a>{31}</span> good stair-carpet. There should -be no fidgety border or differently coloured pattern on them to attract -the eye and tease the brain, but there should be merely a simple pattern -in the lighter shade on a darker ground; this always looks well, and at -the same time does not tire one as an accentuated pattern invariably -does. I therefore recommend Pither’s excellent Brussels and Wilton pile -carpets, 27 inches wide, the one at 4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, the other at 7<i>s.</i> -<i>3d.</i> the yard, for they are absolutely faultless, both in design and -colour, and can be as absolutely relied on both for wear and appearance. -Wallace & Co.’s ‘Stella’ Brussels at 3<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> would be nice, if -expense is a very great object, and their Burmese carpet with a design -on is also to be recommended, and no one can go wrong about their -stair-carpets if they make a judicious selection from these four -qualities and designs. I am perpetually asked for a really good artistic -and satisfactory carpet at a very low price, but I as often reply, You -might as well ask me to supply you with a really good diamond necklace -for a few shillings, for such a thing does not exist. You can get very -artistic-looking carpets for a little money; the Burmese carpet is -ridiculously cheap and very satisfactory, but for real hard wear -Brussels or pile must be chosen, and for a really good thing one must -always pay; and it is far cheaper in the long run to buy what is really -good than to be perpetually vexed at the wear and tear which invariably -surprises and annoys us, come when it may. I therefore very strongly -advise all who can to invest in really good stair-carpets, even if they -content themselves with something far less expensive for the other -rooms.</p> - -<p>Then, too, I should much like to impress on my readers that the hideous -glass one usually finds ready for one, either each side of the front -door, or else as elaborate fanlights over the doors in the passage, -should be removed and replaced by cathedral glass in leaded squares, or -by bottle-ends. If, however, this is impossible, though the expense is -not great, and the effect thereof is admirable, let the grained and -patterned glass be covered by a really excellent imitation of the -cathedral glass. This is to be obtained from Graham & Biddle, Graham -House, Oxford Street, W., and is floated on glass in the same manner in -which the ancient and much despised <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32"></a>{32}</span>‘decalcomanie’ used to be managed, -and really has quite a surprising effect; a third way would be to remove -the glass and replace it with quite plain, clear glass, covered inside -by a fluted curtain of good Madras muslin, in really artistic colours. -No one who has not risen in rebellion against the builder’s arrangement -of starred or patterned glass can imagine how immensely any place is -improved by removing it altogether and replacing it with something else; -and though this may appear a trifle to write about, I can assure you -that it is only by strict attention to such trifles that one can produce -an artistic whole, which shall be entirely and absolutely satisfactory -in every way. And, after all, these small matters cost far less than the -elaborately draped curtains, the fitted carpets, the giant sideboards, -and the other expensive monstrosities against which I am always waging -war.</p> - -<p>To be really perfect, the hall should be a square space in the centre of -the house, where a big fire could blaze in winter, and masses of flowers -could greet the incoming guest when dear, delightful summer makes fires -unnecessary; and naturally such a hall would require very different -treatment to the ordinary long and narrow passage; but if the staircase -sweeps out of the hall I should still suggest my arches here. They would -hide the stairs—never very lovely objects at the best of times—and -obscure the glimpses of ascending and descending legs, which, especially -in the long-dead days of crinolines, made going up or down stairs a -penance indeed to any one who had to perform the ascent and descent in -the face of a numerous company gathered in the hall, besides which a -sense of snugness would be given to the whole place, which it could -never have were that open space left unprotected, stretching up into the -air!</p> - -<p>As a rule, the square hall should be treated, as far as mere -wall-decoration goes, in the same manner as the passages which lead out -of it are treated, but here it would be quite in character, were fresh -colours introduced, or the style of decoration reversed: that is to say, -if the dado, which is imperative in a narrow passage, were replaced by -the same decoration used as a frieze, taking care only that the colours -should harmonise: for example, supposing the passages themselves were -decorated in brown and gold, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33"></a>{33}</span> brown being the ‘Kenesaw’ design -printed on real brown paper by Essex & Co., Albert Mansions, Victoria -Street, S.W., at five shillings and sixpence the piece, the dados being -of a really good and strong gold Japanese leather paper, the inner or -square hall could be papered in the same manner, using, however, the -Japanese gold paper as a frieze; the frieze-rail could be Giles’ picture -and china rail, holding big jugs and blue and white china of all kinds, -and thus a charming effect would be obtained suitable for the squareness -of the hall, and yet harmonising absolutely with the passages which lead -out of it.</p> - -<p>In such a hall as this the ceiling should be divided into squares; this -can be done quite easily nowadays by a series of laths or mouldings made -on purpose; this is nailed into the laths above the ceiling with long -thin nails. A very good moulding made on purpose is sold by Messrs. -Haines & Co., 83 Queen Victoria Street, E.C., at about one penny a foot, -and the squares thus made are filled either with a good ceiling paper or -else by an admirably decorative material, exactly like moulded plaster, -also sold by Haines, and called anaglypta; this costs about 2<i>l.</i> for a -good-sized ceiling, and when up all should have a coat of ivory silicate -paint, or else of the invaluable and admirable Aspinall enamel, also in -ivory, for though builders may argue, and decorators implore, for a -heavier and more ornate system of treating the ceiling and cornice, I -cannot too emphatically condemn any colouring being introduced into the -ceiling and surrounding plaster work in lines, and distracting contrasts -of colour, thus bringing the ceiling down on our heads, depressing one -dreadfully, and all too often bringing into notice much which would be -better left to obscurity.</p> - -<p>But my readers must not imagine from the above that I am recommending -for one moment the ordinary ugly white-wash, the mere appearance of -which ruins any room, or that I am ceasing to love the much-recommended -papered ceiling—indeed I am not. Colour of some kind is necessary there -as well as anywhere else, but the colour must be ivory, or faint -terra-cotta, green, blue, or yellow, and must not be daubed on by the -heavy hand of the decorator revelling in golds, and reds, and blues in -bewildering confusion, and even introducing dreadful real or imitation -oak beams, all well enough in houses where they are part<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34"></a>{34}</span> of the fabric, -and have the sentiment and beauty of age to defend their existence, but -absolutely indefensible in an ordinary London house or small suburban -villa, as indefensible as is old oak furbished up in Tottenham Court -Road and made ghastly with sticky, varnished paint or stain, when placed -in a house that has the nineteenth century and speculative builder -written large all over it, in the bulging walls, its vilely drawn lines, -and its rawness and newness and vulgarity of style.</p> - -<p>For it is no use attempting to have a pretty house unless we are -absolutely strong-minded, and begin by forbidding the decorator to do -anything but what he is told to do; and it is much wiser to write down -exactly at the commencement of our decorations ‘precept on precept,’ -‘line upon line,’ ‘word by word,’ for each room, exactly what we wish -the room to be arranged like, putting on paper the name and number of -the wall paper, the colour of the paint, and in fact every single thing, -so that at the end there can be no mistake; and above all we must not be -persuaded out of our own ideas by the builder or by the upholsterer, or -by anyone at all, once we have made up our minds what we intend to have, -for we may be quite sure that if we are we shall repent it for ever -after. I am often much disappointed to find, after I have taken real and -elaborate pains to tell people exactly how their houses should be -decorated, that they have allowed themselves to be talked over by the -builder or the decorator, and that in consequence I am again sent for -(at double the expense of course), to tell them how to get over, or in -some measure mitigate the horrors that have been perpetrated. ‘It is -such a nuisance to run from shop to shop getting all the different -papers,’ says one, ‘and the builder had almost the same sort of design -in his book, and said his hung much better than those you recommend.’ -‘Oh! we hadn’t time,’ says another, ‘and so we left it to the builder, -and now, please, dear Mrs. Panton, do help us again, for the house does -look horrid, and we cannot think why,’ and of course I go, and could -weep, really weep, over the waste of money, time, and material which -would all have been saved had they handed the builder my written plan of -decorations and told him that that, and that only, was to be the order -for the work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35"></a>{35}</span></p> - -<p>And decoration is really so easy nowadays, that, like moving, it need -only be done slowly and in order to be an absolute success. All that is -required from the builder is the plan of each room, you then write to -the paper manufacturer for as many pieces of paper at so much, so many -yards for the dados or frieze; this is ascertained by simply measuring -round the room with a tape; to Aspinall for so much paint (a gallon at -25<i>s.</i> does quite a large room), and then having collected your -materials set to work. The painter has not to exercise his genius (?) or -discretion (?) at all, he has simply to do as he is told; and, this -being understood, one is spared the endless discussions with the -builder, who wants to sell you some of the reams of hideous paper he has -bought wholesale, and for a mere song, at a clearing-out sale of the -‘Chamber of Horrors’ of some paper-manufacturer, and who makes a great -parade of the printed prices at the back of the sheets, trusting that -you are innocent of the knowledge that on all papers the regular -discount is 33 per cent., and that his own particular stock has been -purchased at almost waste-paper prices, because the manufacturer was -only too pleased to get rid of what ordinary upholsterers and decorators -had absolutely refused to take up; and who is persuasive and pleading, -and finally impertinent, when he discovers he has an adept to deal with, -and not one of the numerous victims erstwhile so easily bullied or -fatigued into putting up almost anything he shows them in order to get -rid of and see the last of him.</p> - -<p>I think the hall and passage are good spots in which to once more -enforce the above details, for all should be done at the beginning, at -the entrance as it were, or else the worry and disappointments will be -endless; therefore I cannot consider the disquisition in which I have -indulged out of place, and I feel I cannot too much or too often impress -on my readers the absolute necessity of being sure what they want -themselves before sending for the decorator; he must only be the hands -to execute the work; and he must be absolutely silent about colours and -patterns of paper if the house is to be a success at all. There are -several other schemes of decoration that are absolutely successful in a -hall, which were not spoken of in ‘From Kitchen to Garret,’ and which -can be mentioned here before passing away from the hall altogether, -although there are several<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36"></a>{36}</span> things still to be said about it; and, -indeed, as in all that regards decoration, it is an absolutely -inexhaustible subject, as new and pretty things appear daily, and good -combinations of colour are constantly suggesting themselves to the -decorative mind. For the ordinary long dark passage, I would suggest -that yellow and white should be used, nut-brown taking the place of -white should there be very much traffic in the place, or should there be -necessity for a certain amount of economy; very small halls look nice -with Pither’s ‘special’ yellow and white berry paper, at 2<i>s.</i> a piece; -a matting dado in plain white with all ivory paint, and Maple’s yellow -and white ceiling paper, at 4<i>d.</i> a piece; the matting dado being -replaced by Liberty’s nut-brown arras cloth, at 9¾<i>d.</i> a yard, and all -‘nut-brown’ paint, where it is considered desirable to have a darker -arrangement than would be obtained by the ivory and white. The arras is -very wide, 54 inches, and would in consequence cover a much larger -wall-space than the matting does, neither is it so difficult to manage -as is matting, but both should be secured at the bottom by upholsterer’s -tacks, and at the top by a light wooden rail, sold by Haines, of 83 -Queen Victoria Street, E.C., at something under 1<i>d.</i> a foot. This -should be screwed to the wall, and could be removed, arras, or matting -and all at any time, which it could not be were ordinary nails employed, -and a simple (and hideous) paper dado could replace the more expensive -‘properties,’ were the owner to remove and wish to take the dado with -him, a plain paper-dado and a tidy wall being all that could be demanded -of him by his landlord; beauty and æstheticism are not in the bond that -exists between him and his tenant.</p> - -<p>Another arrangement would be Pither’s beautiful ‘Buttercup, C,’ at 3<i>s.</i> -a piece, and yellow matting dado, and all ‘Mandarin’ paint, and a -ceiling paper in red and cream; the ‘berry,’ at 1<i>s.</i>, would do quite -well with either of these schemes. Pither’s dull red pile carpet would -be best for the stairs; and a good many Oriental rugs should be about -the hall. Any draperies over the doors should be the dull red ‘Elvira’ -tapestry, sold by Wallace, or of Mandarin yellow serge, this, of course, -being much cheaper than the ‘Elvira’ brocade, which is 9<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, as -against the 1<i>s.</i> 11½<i>d.</i> of the ever useful serge.</p> - -<p>If yellow should be objected to—and nothing is so useful<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37"></a>{37}</span> or so -successful in a dark passage—blue should be the next colour to be -thought about, and Liberty’s blue tulip damasque is a most valuable -paper for a blue hall. This is only 2<i>s.</i> a piece, and ‘hangs’ -splendidly, and a very original effect would be produced by this paper, -a high dado of red and gold leather paper, and all dull red paint; the -red of the paint to match the curious dull-lacquered appearance of the -red in the Japanese leather paper; the stair carpet should be red, and -the ceiling paper yellow and white; as a rule Maple’s ceiling paper, at -4<i>d.</i> a piece, is quite good enough for anything; but if people do not -mind spending a little more money, Haines has a charming ceiling paper -at 3<i>s.</i>, in yellow and white, which, being of a more geometrical and -better design in every way, would be perfect for ceilings, although, as -I said before, where money is an object, the yellow and white ceiling -paper is all that is absolutely necessary, and really answers remarkably -well.</p> - -<p>Should a red hall be desired, Pither’s ‘Buttercup, B,’ at 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, -cannot be improved upon. Cream or else ‘Scindered’ paint should be used; -a red and white matting for the dado, not a check matting, but one which -has a red line in it, and dark blue art carpet on the floor, blue and -white ceiling paper—Maple, 4<i>d.</i> a piece. Any draperies should be -either blue or red, and the ever-useful Khelims would show off admirably -in a house arranged and decorated in this way, for their Eastern -colourings would appear to advantage against the red and cream walls. -This is a bold decoration, but one that looks extremely well, as does -even a bolder arrangement, consisting of the ‘Buttercup, B,’ all -malachite-green stained woodwork, a dull green matting dado, Burr & -Elliott’s (Oxford Street, W.) dull green cocoa-nut matting on the hall -and stairs, dull green and white ceiling paper, and draperies of -malachite-green serge. All the furniture should be Armitage’s stained -green wooden furniture, his high-backed little settle being particularly -adapted for use in a hall, where no more furniture should be allowed -than is absolutely necessary, unless the hall can, by reason of its size -and design, be used as a room, and treated and furnished like one.</p> - -<p>I cannot and never do recommend either a terra-cotta or real green wall; -the latter is such a nondescript and uncertain colour that the use of it -in the entrance appears to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38"></a>{38}</span> me to strike the keynote to the character of -the inhabitants, who are thus pronounced uncertain in their ideas, and -not particularly satisfactory, and there are so many ‘builder’s horrors’ -in the shape of dull, gloomy terra-cotta papers that inexperienced folks -are apt to buy simply because the pure word ‘terra-cotta’ implies to a -certain class of mind that the paper is artistic and high art, that I am -impelled to taboo terra-cotta altogether at once; but if Liberty’s -‘tulip’ and ‘marigold’ damasque papers are bought a terra-cotta wall may -be indulged in, though I can never pronounce this as totally -satisfactory as are the red, blue, and yellow and brown walls. If the -terra-cotta is selected, I advise ivory paint; if that cannot be -indulged in, a shade of dull green should be chosen to harmonise with -the terra-cotta, and the dado should be either green matting or else of -green and gold (<i>dull</i> green and gold, please!) Japanese leather paper; -the stair carpet should be green, and so should the draperies and -ceiling paper.</p> - -<p>A green wall could be arranged by using Liberty’s green and silver -‘tulip’ damasque, at 2<i>s.</i>, and dull green paint, and a pale green -matting dado, Pither’s dark red carpet, and dark red draperies, the red -and cream ‘berry’ for ceiling, or else terra-cotta draperies, and the -‘Stella’ stair carpet from Wallace. This hall would be artistic; but a -cooler effect, and one that would be specially adapted for a hot hall, -one into which much sun pours, would be obtained by using the green and -silver paper, sea-green paint, and all pale green draperies, and a green -carpet, using white and green muslin on the windows, and any white and -green china to hold flowers and plants that one can find.</p> - -<p>Once the papering and painting are done and the stair-carpets are down -and the draperies are up, serious attention must be given to the trifles -which appear scarcely worth seeing to, but on which depend so much, and -which I have spoken about in the beginning of this chapter; for it is of -no use to put charming papers on our walls if we leave hideous glass in -the doors, or allow our staircase windows to glare at us with strips of -yellow, blue, and red glass for edges round a starred centre, in a -manner found even in these artistic days in houses where people should -presumably know better; and I therefore repeat my advice to my readers -to look out for the trifles, and never to rest until all they possess -has some beauty to excuse its existence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39"></a>{39}</span></p> - -<p>Perhaps the most tiresome thing in the orthodox hall is the ordinary -long staircase window; but this can be improved at very small cost if a -little artistic talent is brought to bear upon it. If it can be afforded -in any way the window can be made beautiful by filling it in with -cathedral glass in leaded squares, and about three or four really good -medallions in stained glass could be hung about. These can be procured -from Mr. Pither, 38 Mortimer Street, Regent Street, W. A wide shelf -should be placed at the bottom of the window, and china could be -arranged there. On the landing could be placed a tall grandfather clock, -in such a way that the face faces the hall, and, if there is room, a big -palm in a stand adds much to the effect. This would obviate any -necessity for draperies, always rather difficult to keep clean in this -exalted situation. If this arrangement is too expensive, a wooden arch -should be placed round the top of the window, and the woodwork should -taper down each side to the bottom of the window (illustrated in Fig. -3), and a soft silk drapery should be caught up on one side. This is -confined by a cord, passed over a nail, which can be loosened by -releasing the cord; the curtain then falls over the windows, and either -obscures the sunshine or the darkness, according to whether it is -lowered at night or day, although I should personally prefer to leave it -draped and to hang a lamp up in the arch, which could be lighted at -night. Plants or china could be arranged along the ledge, and make a -charming picture out of what is usually an intensely ugly spot.</p> - -<p>Another great difficulty is the usual London landing half-way up-stairs, -where sometimes a couple of chairs are put, on which no one ever sits, -flanked by a table no one ever dusts or by a couple of palms everyone -forgets to water. Here a really clear brain is required to cope with the -difficulties; and I have had a sketch done by a friend of mine, who has -made a perfectly charming corner out of this generally hideous spot, -which I hope will speak for itself, and shows what can be made out of a -similar landing with trouble and a good deal of really artistic feeling. -In this same house the second door to the drawing-room, which is never -used and only looks frightful to those who come up the stairs and see -this door first of all, is turned into a cabinet, where various -old-fashioned fans and curiosities<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40"></a>{40}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_3" id="ill_3"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-040_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-040_sml.jpg" width="275" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 3.—Staircase Window." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 3.—Staircase Window.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41"></a>{41}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_4" id="ill_4"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-041_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-041_sml.jpg" width="292" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 4.—A London Landing." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 4.—A London Landing.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42"></a>{42}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">generally are kept, the sunken space between the wall and the door -itself being amply deep enough for this purpose; and as all doors can be -made to open into a room, the deep space can always be on the passage -side, the flat side being in the room itself and hidden by a straight -curtain, or, by a still simpler process, by taking off all the -mouldings, handles, &c., and papering straight over the door, just as if -it were a portion of the wall itself.</p> - -<p>The simple over-doors, sold by so many furniture houses nowadays, should -be placed over the doors, in most houses, in the hall, or else pictures -should be hung there; and, indeed, one cannot have too many good -pictures anywhere. If real paintings and excellent proof engravings are -not to be afforded, do let me beg of my readers to indulge themselves in -autotypes or photographs from really good pictures. These look specially -well in a hall, and naturally do not serve as dust traps, as do far too -many of the Japanese ornaments, fans, skins, and trophies of the chase, -which are usually considered appropriate to this remarkably dusty and -trying situation. Pictures can be dusted daily; other ornaments require -more time and attention, though naturally one would rather have these -than nothing, if one cannot afford pictures, in this spot, while the -over-doors finish off the hall, and can have the five or six china -ornaments, which look well and can be regularly dusted with a long -feather brush and duly washed once a week when the hall is entirely -turned out.</p> - -<p>I most strongly advise the hall to be warmed in some way if it can -possibly be managed, and I must own that I never can understand why -houses are built year after year without this simple but most important -convenience. One need not use a stove because one has it, but it should -never be out of one’s power to thoroughly warm the house should one wish -to do so, and I look forward to a day I have often spoken of, when women -shall qualify as architects, and shall turn their hands entirely to -domestic architecture. Until then I suppose we must go on grumbling and -putting up with grateless halls, cupboardless houses, and rooms where no -provision at all has been made for placing a bed or arranging furniture -with common sense, to say nothing of artistic grouping, that of course -is absolutely impossible in the ordinary square recessless house with -which we are now so very liberally provided by the male architect!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43"></a>{43}</span></p> - -<p>But if in any way possible have a grate put into the hall, or else some -kind of stove; of course a grate means a chimney, and this is not always -forthcoming when wanted, but a grate is much to be preferred; in the -first place it can mean a pretty mantel and over-mantel, and cheerful -blazes in winter, and pretty flowers in summer; and in the second, the -warmth it gives is separable from the fumes and stuffy feeling that one -always finds with a stove, no matter how good it is. Then, too, a stove -is hideous, it can’t help being so, and it is frankly frightful; still, -if warmth cannot be got into a hall in any other way, a stove must be -used, and I think the one sold by Mr. Pither in Mortimer Street, the -‘Eclipse,’ is as good as any; it burns a long time without any -attention, and costs very little indeed—I think something like twopence -for the twelve hours.</p> - -<p>The reason why I impress upon my readers the necessity of a stove is -that I cannot believe but that we should be saved an immense amount of -illness were we yet more particular about an equal temperature than we -are. As a rule our rooms are fairly warm, but in the winter our passages -are like ice, they cannot help being so; windows must be opened and the -outer doors cannot be kept hermetically sealed, and the moment we leave -our fireside or the rooms where we have fires, we get a sudden chill -which cannot fail to try us terribly, even if it results in nothing -worse; besides which a fearful cold draught comes into our sitting-room -the moment the doors are open, and we shiver and throw on more -coal—coal that we should not require were the hall warmed as it ought -to have been, and which would allow us to even leave our sitting-room -door open should we desire to do so. Now our first exclamation to an -incoming friend is: ‘Oh, please shut the door!’ and we dismiss him or -her with the same pleasing but necessary injunction.</p> - -<p>I was delighted to see in one of the papers the other day that there had -been a most remarkable diminution in that fatal scourge of our -ancestresses—consumption; for I am certain this is entirely due to the -fact that we are far more sensible about our clothing, and much more -lavish about firing, than our fathers used to be; and I feel convinced, -were we to have still more fires, and were we to taboo low<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44"></a>{44}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_5" id="ill_5"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-044_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-044_sml.jpg" width="289" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 5.—Hall Wardrobe (No. 1)." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 5.—Hall Wardrobe (No. 1).</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45"></a>{45}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_6" id="ill_6"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-045_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-045_sml.jpg" width="246" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 6.—Hall Wardrobe (No. 2)." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 6.—Hall Wardrobe (No. 2).</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46"></a>{46}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">dresses entirely, consumption would soon be a thing of the past. -Therefore I cannot, I feel, say too much about the necessity for a stove -or fire in the hall, which is certainly neither complete nor sensible -without this most necessary piece of furniture; but I suppose we must -await our lady architect before these are universal, or before we get a -really perfect house, from a woman’s point of view at least. The -furniture of the hall must depend entirely on its length and breadth, -but once more I beg my readers not to allow of anything approaching the -appearance of the ordinary ugly hat stand there; if Edwin will not -remove his hideous hats and very ugly coats upstairs, Angelina must -conciliate him by having one of the hall wardrobes illustrated here. The -first one could go into a corner behind the door, and could be painted -to match the decorations, or else could be of either American walnut or -oak; the curtains could be of serge worked over in a decorative design -in coarse crewels, or else of some pretty tapestry. Complete in art -colours with serge curtains it costs 3<i>l.</i> 3<i>s.</i>, in walnut 4<i>l.</i> 18<i>s.</i> -6<i>d.</i>; the straight one costs 5<i>l.</i> 15<i>s.</i> in art colours, and 6<i>l.</i> -6<i>s.</i> in walnut; but for the impecunious, and, alas! there are many -among us, a V-shaped piece of wood could be put into the corner and -screwed there with a straight piece to make a front, from which the -curtain should hang down straight; behind this a V-shaped shelf could be -placed for hats, and some hooks could be screwed on the wall for coats; -but if in any way possible the real thing should be bought—it could be -moved to any other house and would last a life-time. These designs are -made by Wallace of the Curtain Road, where these capital hall wardrobes -are to be had, and which will, I trust, strike a death-blow to the -old-fashioned stands, which were as ugly as they were temptations to the -ordinary area-sneak to come in and help himself to any coat or hat he -takes a fancy to. Instead of the ordinary hall table I again suggest the -buffet, illustrated on page 28; nothing looks better, and if a carriage -is kept the oak chest, which can be opened like a cupboard, could hold -the rugs, while the top could be ornamented with china and hold a big -Imari bowl for cards, and a smaller one for the cards left during the -afternoon or letters sent by post; a couple of chairs and the -high-backed settle spoken of before would be ample for any ordinary -hall,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47"></a>{47}</span> where there should be, furthermore, a good mat at the front door, -but no small mats in each doorway or dreadful woolly mats about, things -which are quite unnecessary and are as ugly as they are tiresome.</p> - -<p>It is absolutely necessary that, whether artistic or not, the hall -should be scrupulously tidy and as scrupulously clean; and I do not know -a more difficult thing than to insist on the former of these two axioms, -and to see one’s orders are carried out, especially when there are boys -and dogs—those two fatal elements to tidiness and cleanliness, but -which are absolutely necessary to the making of a complete house. One -may go out leaving a spotless place, with no <i>débris</i> to offend the eye, -but one returns to find it scattered over with hats and caps, tennis -rackets, bats and stumps, paw and footmarks, and a general air of -distracting dirt all over, that is absolutely trying to the eye, that -fondly hopes to see what it left; and the only way to cope with the -human element is to make a species of pound, into which all is put, and -from whence nothing can be extracted without the payment of some small -fine. I have known a week’s pocket money go in one morning, but, as a -rule, very few lessons are required; the unfailing exactment of a fine -teaching even a boy that there is a place for everything and that -everything must be put in that place. The dogs and footmarks have to be -put up with, and I have known an unhappy kitchenmaid wash the front -doorsteps five single times in one day, when the boys have been at home, -and rain has, as is usual in Watford, been falling dismally. A back -staircase is another thing no house should be built without. This spares -the hall immensely, and saves the best stair-carpet, and prevents one -meeting the servants as one goes up and down—a thing I personally very -much object to. I don’t know why, but I resent hearing them go up to bed -past the drawing-room door, and owe our present house yet another -grudge, because, for the first time in our lives, we have here no second -staircase. If there should be one, I again advise the oilcloth dado -spoken of in my former book; nothing is so absolutely indestructible, or -so clean, and with this dado a wall would remain tidy and spotless for -an entire lifetime. A strong cocoanut matting should be put down on the -stairs themselves, but the edges of the stairs should be carefully<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48"></a>{48}</span> -inspected, as back stairs, especially, are apt to be very roughly -finished off; if this is the case, a carpenter should be called in, -either to plane them smoothly, or mend them, or a wide, broad piece of -brass should bind the edges; these, again, should have a pad of flock in -a thin lining laid along them, finally covered with the cocoanut -matting. These small precautions will not cost very much, but will -certainly add immensely to the chances of the longevity of the carpets. -It would be a good thing to have the ‘treads’ of the back stairs grained -and varnished; but those in the principal staircase should always be -painted white with Aspinall’s water-paint. This gives an indescribably -clean and fresh look to the stairs, and the paint is so easily applied -that the housemaid could do it herself yearly, or whenever an -opportunity offers to re-paint the treads. Housekeepers should, in my -opinion, raise a statue to Aspinall, for he certainly has removed the -difficulties that lay in wait for the would-be artistic mistress of the -household; for now she is rendered quite independent of the British -workman, and can either paint her house herself, or give it to a man who -can be trusted to apply the paint, albeit no amount of instruction will -teach him to match a colour or produce anything save a hideous -caricature of the paper we give him, and whose ‘heye’ is absolutely -incapable of seeing what a ridiculous muddle he is making; and I, -therefore, cannot too often impress upon my readers, especially on those -who live far from really artistic workpeople, that if they want their -houses to be really nice, they must indulge in Aspinall, and must insist -on the unbroken, unpicked-out surface of paint that use of this most -invaluable enamel produces most satisfactorily.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> -<small>NOOKS AND CORNERS.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">I think</span> so very much of the appearance of our rooms depends on how we -arrange our corners that I have had two large drawings made from corners -in my present house,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49"></a>{49}</span> which, at the risk of appearing egotistical, I am -going to write about; not because I consider them perfect—no house can -really be perfect unless far more money is spent upon it than I am able -to spend—but because I consider they will in some measure assist those -who, like myself, are very fond of pretty and comfortable things, but -are not prepared to ruin themselves in order to obtain this most -desirable combination. I wrote so fully in my former book on the -arrangement of sitting-rooms that I am only going to touch lightly on -the orthodox papering and painting of dining-, drawing-, and -morning-rooms, reserving all my new ideas for the billiard-room and -library, neither of which rooms were considered likely to be required -for the modest young couple starting in life, for whom I more -particularly designed that special volume.</p> - -<p>As I said before, this book is intended for older folks, or for those -who have more of this world’s goods than Edwin and Angelina were -supposed to possess; and, therefore, it really supplements—it does not -in any measure do away with—‘From Kitchen to Garret;’ and as I am most -anxious to impress this upon my readers by not repeating any of the -information I gave there, I intend especially in the present chapter to -denote how, with a little care, the modest house can be expanded into a -more artistic abode, or how a bigger house can be furnished, the while -we do not set on one side the furniture with which we began life, and -which we possessed ourselves of with so much gladness and with such a -sense of importance—at least, I hope all my readers did, for the -culture of home and of all that makes a home cannot, in my opinion, be -too much developed. Therefore, from their earliest days children should -be encouraged to think about their own special rooms, and should be -taught to notice and have a voice in the arrangement of all the house. -If the house is thoroughly appreciated and cultivated, if, above all, it -is the prettiest and happiest place our children know of, we shall not -have much difficulty with them when they cease to be children and begin -to feel they have a separate existence to ours. They have this separate -existence, and we should endeavour that, without in any measure relaxing -the ties of duty and politeness, they should be able to feel they are -themselves and not our bond-slaves; and this can only be done by -consulting and talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50"></a>{50}</span> with them freely about all we have and do, -letting them, if they will, develop their own tastes gradually, but not -in a manner that will oust us from our proper place or jar with any of -our own pet ideas on the subject of home and its decoration and -embellishment; for it is better to endure the ugliest place in the world -cheerfully than to live in artistic completeness, if this same artistic -completeness means sweeping away all the landmarks of our elders and -betters, and leaving them stranded in an unfamiliar world of new tables -and chairs, which are nothing to them, and but ill replace the furniture -which reminds them of so much that we never knew about or have entirely -forgotten. I have known a girl in her zeal for beauty make her mother so -abjectly miserable by removing a round table, once the centre of the -scattered houseful of boys and girls, and by ruthlessly disposing of -clumsy and hideous furniture, made precious by memories of those who -have gone into the land of shadows, that I am compelled at times to -allow sentiment to sway me and to say, Consider first whether a thing -has associations before, in one’s anxiety for beauty, one does away with -it. If it have, let it remain, for nothing can ever replace it; but if -it have not (and I sternly myself refuse to become sentimental over a -chair or footstool), by all means get rid of it, and replace it with -something lighter and more modern. As a rule, this will not last long -enough for us to cling round it mentally or to deck it with any of the -finer sentiment that is inseparable from much of the heavy mahogany and -walnut under which so many of my disciples still groan, and which has -been handed down from one generation to another, each generation -becoming more and more discontented with it, until the present are in -open revolt against that which gave our grandmothers and -great-grandmothers the greatest possible gratification to possess.</p> - -<p>The pretty corners in which we all delight, and the lightness and -brightness that now characterise our houses, would have been the source -of endless woe and trouble to the dear ladies of old. The corners would -have meant dust and ‘gimcracks,’ and as the light colours in which we -revel would and do soon become soiled, they, too, would have been -deprecated because they showed the dirt, which was present equally in -the darker rooms, but not being visible was not taken any notice of -until the annual clean,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51"></a>{51}</span> when all was made aggressively shining and -absolutely spotless, remaining so for about a week, when dust began to -gather again, but it was unnoticed because the dark materials did not -show the dirt, which, however, could be felt, did our finger come in -contact with the rough moreen or dismal repps in which their souls -delighted, and of which specimens still haunt us in the houses of those -who are possessors of similar heirlooms with which they dare not part.</p> - -<p>Then, too, the dear ladies were so fond of stuffing up their windows and -darkening their rooms still more by the drawing down of blinds and the -eliminating of every morsel of sunshine, for fear their precious carpets -would become faded; and I am sorry to say that this affection for -half-dark rooms yet lingers among many who ought to know better. But -when I stumble into one of these rooms, where one cannonades against the -furniture and falls over footstools in the half-light, I always feel -convinced that the blinds are drawn to prevent the sun beating too -warmly on the faded complexion of the owner of that house, or to hide -the ravages of time, that the liberally applied pearl-powder and rouge -and the sticky harsh dye are powerless to remove entirely, but that -almost disappear in the rose-tinted chambers I so abhor and despise; and -I therefore know what to expect when I am ushered into one of these -stuffy, dismal rooms, and am thankful when I get out of it; for the mind -that can delight in defying age with paint and dye is not likely to find -me of the smallest use. I should say at once, Do away with the blinds -and shorten the curtains, and let in some air; and as the owner of that -house would sooner dye—I mean die—than accede to my request, I have -nothing to say to her, and get away as soon as I can. Any amount of -decoration for the house I like and appreciate, but I cannot appreciate -or understand the ambition that makes one Aspinall one’s face and -pretend to be five-and-twenty when one knows one will never see forty -again.</p> - -<p>Corners are especially appreciated, unfortunately, by the ladies who -draw their blinds down and never face the eye of day save in a carriage, -with a spotted veil over their features and a shading parasol, and no -doubt some of these individuals will look at the pictures in this book -and may see these words of wisdom; if they do, I hope they will consider -them, wash<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52"></a>{52}</span> their faces, and pull up their blinds. I can assure them -they will be far happier and healthier, more especially if they realise -that the time they spend in tiring their heads and painting their faces -is absolutely wasted—it neither makes them younger nor more -ornamental—and that it would be far better employed in working for -others, or in making their homes as cheerful as unfailing sunshine and -fresh air invariably do. Therefore, down with the curtains and up with -the blinds, and let us have as much cheerful sunshine as this rather -disappointing climate will allow us to possess, and the first corner I -would make is the summer corner, for, that once made, dismal darkness -and stuffiness would be an impossibility.</p> - -<p>The special corner illustrated here is one of the windows in my present -morning-room, which is at the end of the room, in a curious species of -square nook to itself; there is an enormous species of bow-window -beside, where I have my desk and other belongings, and beyond that again -is a third window, below which I have a long book-case full of books; -but though this window is to some extent unique, the seat illustrated -here, which is an adaptation or rather an enlargement of Giles’ ‘Cosy -Corner,’ could be put under any window and of course enlarged immensely; -if desired, it could go across one side of the room, and the arm with a -curtain could come out straight from the wall of the room, thus making a -sheltered place in which to sit and read; and breaking up admirably the -long straight look of the wall, which all too often makes an ordinary -room the most uninteresting place in the world, and the most difficult -to render artistic and pleasant. The right-hand side of the seat should -be at least two feet longer than the left-hand side, or else the seat -will look too much like a family pew, which cognomen one of my friends -is rude enough to give to my present seat, but arranged with the ends of -an uneven length, the seat looks like nothing save what it is—a -remarkably comfortable lounge, where one can either sit and read or -talk, and it forms an extremely pretty addition to any room.</p> - -<p>The special seat illustrated here is enamelled Aspinall’s electric -turquoise, and is upholstered in Colbourne’s yellow and white Louis XVI. -damask, at 2<i>s.</i> 11½<i>d.</i> a yard, but I intend soon to replace this -covering by dark yellow stamped<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53"></a>{53}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_7" id="ill_7"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-053_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-053_sml.jpg" width="314" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 7.—A Summer Corner." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 7.—A Summer Corner.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54"></a>{54}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">corduroy velveteen, for, pretty as the Louis XVI. damask is, and -admirable as it is for curtains and table-cloths, it does not answer for -hard wear, and soon becomes soiled and rubbed, a fact Giles warned me -about; but I was anxious to experiment myself on the subject; and having -done so, and found it does not answer, here solemnly warn my readers -from using this charming material for tight coverings or where real hard -wear is expected of it. Tightly upholstered furniture should be always -covered in something that will really wear, not only because of the -expense, but because of the worry of having workmen always in the house -replacing the furniture which has become soiled and worn.</p> - -<p>But whatever the seat is upholstered in, the fringe round the seat -should not be forgotten, and it should almost touch the ground; mine -does not, and in consequence the seat always has the appearance of -having grown out of its frocks; and the material should be in some -measure a contrast to the colour used for enamelling the ends and -woodwork; indeed, I much prefer the ends, &c., to be of some polished -wood, while the straight piece above the seat and below the shelf could -be either plainly painted or polished wood, or else it could be made of -brocade or Japanese leather paper. Mr. Giles puts Lincrusta in those he -sells to fit into recesses, but I cannot endure this stiff and very ugly -material, and always ask him to replace it for me with something -preferable, the excellent Japanese leather looking better, in my -opinion, than anything else. The straight piece above the seat, if -covered in brocade and furnished with tiny hooks, would make an -admirable place to display the miniatures and odds and ends of silver -that are so fashionable; really old and valuable fans could also be -displayed here to advantage, and a thin sheet of talc could be stretched -over all. Glass would be too heavy, and the talc would protect the fans, -&c., from dust, and yet be sufficiently transparent.</p> - -<p>The shelf for china is part of the seat: this is of wood, either -enamelled or polished, and should be carefully arranged; the tall jar -containing grasses at the end of the shelf in the sketch is really in -the corner in my room, and fills up the space between the curtain and -the wall, and in the opposite corner from the frieze-rail hangs one of -Benson’s admirable copper lamps with a copper shade; this throws the -light down on the seat, and enables one to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55"></a>{55}</span> read there, should one wish -to do so, the cushioned corner below the lamp being perhaps the most -comfortable spot in the whole seat. Just on the other side of the arms, -and below the top of them, I had small tea-cup shelves put; they shut -down completely, and when not in use are scarcely visible, but they make -a great deal of difference to one’s comfort; for one can rest one’s cup -there easily, and in consequence this corner makes a favourite spot -during the ceremony of afternoon tea, which we always hold in the -morning-room, our present drawing-room being only used when lighted up, -as it is dark and depressing, because of the numerous trees by which we -are surrounded, and that make it unbearable until the lamps are lighted -and the yellow and white decoration stands out in the admirable manner -in which these two colours always do when once artificial light falls -upon them.</p> - -<p>The big pillows are in yellow, deep-red, and electric turquoise, and -were bought at Maple’s for 16<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> each; but those who really -possess numerous pillows, soft and comfortable enough to lean against, -but hideous to contemplate, will be glad to hear that Maple sells these -frilled silk covers ready to slip on, which would transform in a moment -the most frightful pillow ever presented to an unfortunate bride, who -yet dare not do away with the kind gift of a relative who may be has not -gone with the times or holds the stern opinion that a gift one makes -oneself is worth any amount of presents bought in a shop: so it is, if -the work be present day work, and really artistic; but the beaded -cushion or (the worst development of all) that covered with crazy -patchwork, still exists unfortunately, and may exist, blamelessly and -usefully, if slipped into one of these covers, which can be whipped off -in a moment, should the donor appear unexpectedly, or be even pointed -out as our pious endeavour to preserve the ‘beautiful’ work by a cover -one does not mind if one spoils: an excellently plausible excuse that -spares the feelings of the maker and our own sensitive optics at the -same time.</p> - -<p>The curtain on my seat is hanging on a brass rod, and is made from a -remarkably beautiful pattern of yellow and brown stamped velveteen known -as the Graham velveteen, and sold by Graham & Biddle; both sides of the -curtain are alike, as I have doubled the material, and I am very<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56"></a>{56}</span> fond -of this special bit of colour and design; but if the velveteen is -objected to, the curtain can be made from the soft artistic silk -Shoolbred sells at 2<i>s.</i> a yard; this must be double too, and put on -very full, or else it will soon become skimpy and flabby. The table at -the end of the seat has a loose cover of dark-red Bokhara plush, a -capital species of ribbed plush edged with ball fringe; this costs 6<i>s.</i> -11½<i>d.</i> a yard from Colbourne, and it takes a yard and a quarter to make -the square, which is necessary for one of these cloths; a big yellow pot -holding a palm stands on the table, the palm giving place whenever -possible to a flowering plant, a great white azalea, and a big white -rose tree, and also an orange tree with flowers and fruit, and a -flowering daphne having all appeared there to the greatest possible -advantage. Beyond the curtain, at the extreme end of the seat, I hang a -long Japanese bamboo, and have flowers here whenever possible. These -bamboos are most decorative, and look nice with comparatively few -flowers in them.</p> - -<p>On the other side of the seat, at the end, a palm stands on the low, -square, velvet-covered stools I prefer to anything else for pot stands; -and at the extreme end I always have one of Mrs. M‘Clelland’s admirable -newspaper and magazine stands; these are the right height for use and -stand on two crossed legs; one side takes papers and the other -magazines; a paper-knife is slipped into a bracket at the side, and -altogether the stand is a wonderful comfort, and above all makes an -excellent present for a man—that most difficult of all creatures to -give a present to, unless one half ruin oneself in order to make him an -offering.</p> - -<p>The walls of this special room are covered with Mr. Smee’s admirable -blue paper at 4<i>s.</i> the piece, all the paint is Aspinall’s -electric-turquoise enamel, the frieze is plain gold Japanese leather -paper, and the ceiling is in squares; the moulding that forms each -square is coloured cream, and the squares themselves are filled in with -a well-designed yellow and white ceiling paper from Mr. Smee’s at 3<i>s.</i> -a piece; the floor is covered with yellow and white matting, and has -several rugs lying about, and the curtains are Louis XVI. tapestry, in -yellow and white, edged with the usual ball fringe—the smaller windows -having this only, the larger one having ‘guipure vitrage’ on it as well. -The frieze has been embellished most successfully in three or four<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57"></a>{57}</span> -places with great branches of Japanese-looking japonica in the natural -colours; and this is an immense improvement, as one requires touches of -red undoubtedly about the room. The branches do not go all round the -room in the orthodox manner, but are scattered in three or four places, -and are the work of an artist. A good effect can be obtained by merely -outlining with a careful brush the patterns that are on all Japanese -leather papers with a little ‘Scinde red.’ Of course this must not be -done all over the frieze, but simply here and there, and should be -executed with taste, and a great amount of common sense as well.</p> - -<p>Before I say any more about this room, or about the other corner which -has been arranged for winter use, I want to draw the attention of my -readers especially to the windows. My plan of doing away with blinds was -illustrated as regards a bow window, and the tiny squares of the manor -house windows before, but no one has ever seemed able to grasp the -manner in which an ordinary flat window or a French window can be -managed. This window is the ordinary flat window; and can anything be -simpler than the white curtains of ‘guipure vitrage’ stretched on two -slight rods fastened on the window <i>frame, not on the sash</i>? These -curtains remain in place, whether the window is open or shut, and, in -consequence, were they used in a bedroom, one could dress comfortably -with the window open, the curtains remaining in place and serving as a -blind. With the ordinary short blind, which vulgarises any house, and to -which English house-mothers cling with a devotion worthy of a better -cause, one must keep the windows closed during the process of dressing, -as the blind goes up with the window, and leaves the room exposed to the -glances of anyone who may be passing by. The thicker curtains hang from -a separate brass rod, which is rather larger than those used for the -muslin. These curtains are attached to rings which allow them to be -drawn easily along the rods at night, and when the sun shines too warmly -and brightly, and, therefore, no hideously ugly blinds are required; for -even ladies whose dubious complexions forbid the free entrance of the -blessed sun can make their rooms as dark as they like by drawing these -curtains, which can be lined with a thick sateen, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58"></a>{58}</span> should be edged -with a ball fringe, to break the hard line which always spoils the look -of any curtain when left untrimmed. ‘Guipure vitrage,’ which is to be -had from Wallace, from 10¾<i>d.</i> a yard, makes admirable under curtains. -Of course it is much dearer than Kay’s butter muslin, or his -easily-draped Indian muslin at 2¾<i>d.</i> a yard. But then these muslins -require making up, and must be edged with softly falling frills, which -should be from 3 to 5 inches in width, according to the size of the -window. These frills are put on without any heading, and fall in a sort -of cascade. The frilled muslins sold now by the yard at any big shop are -not nearly so satisfactory, as the frills are goffered, and are very -stiff. Making the frilled curtains is a serious consideration: they must -be done by hand, as the muslin will not stand the machine, and the -hemming required is rather hard work, and therefore ‘guipure vitrage,’ -despite its price, should recommend itself to those who are not given to -sewing. It merely requires hemming top and bottom, and the rods pass -through these hems, which should be loose enough to allow of the curtain -being moved to cover the window entirely, should this be necessary, or -to part in the centre, so that any view there may be need not be -obscured.</p> - -<p>In the ordinary London house, where all sorts of endeavours are made to -completely hide the doings of the inhabitants of the rooms from the -passers-by, these curtains, especially in the Indian muslin from Kay’s, -are invaluable. No one can see in, and all can see out, while further -protection could be obtained by flower boxes along the window-ledges in -the summer, and put inside the rooms in the winter, if desired. A couple -of iron brackets could be put out, one each side of the window, -Aspinalled to match the rest of the paint, and on this the box could -rest, full of flowering plants, when the weather outside would be too -cold for them to live and flourish. The whole of the house should be -done alike with the curtains, of which a double set should be made. The -‘guipure vitrage’ must not be very much starched, and it must be -carefully pulled out and stretched before it is quite dry, or else it -will seem to have shrunk; but with care and proper washing these -curtains would last three or four years, and, as there is no real -trouble in making, should soon be the favourite material<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59"></a>{59}</span> for these -short curtains. The cost would be about 4<i>s.</i> a window, so that it would -be easy for anyone to see what their house would cost them. Naturally -the other muslin would come only to about 1<i>s.</i> a window; in this case -the sewing must be done by the owner of the house or her maids.</p> - -<p>I think from this sketch anyone can see how the ordinary blindless -window is managed; while the way to arrange a French window is shown in -the frontispiece so plainly that no further description can possibly be -needed.</p> - -<p>And now we come to the winter corner, the sketch of which requires very -little comment from me, as I think it speaks for itself; but my readers -may be interested to know that the sofa illustrated here began life as a -wretched stiff sofa with a scroll end, and no side whatever, and was -bought very cheaply of a country tradesman. When I wanted to make a -comfortable seat by the fire, I got another local genius to put the -scroll end upright, and to put on the side. This transformed the seat at -once, and made a most comfortable lounge, more especially as I had the -legs cut down, until it is only fourteen inches high, the seat being -about twenty-four inches wide. This is a seat <i>pur et simple</i>; but by -putting a couple of pillows on the end of the sofa nearest the wall and -stuffing them comfortably down there, one makes an excellent rest for -one’s head, and can lie there in warmth and peace. This corner, by the -way, is a special favourite of Max, the tabby cat, who much resents -being moved therefrom, and retreats in great dudgeon to a chair from -Liberty, which stands the other side of the fireplace, which is only -just indicated in the sketch, and which is a charming but simple design, -from Shuffery in Welbeck Street.</p> - -<p>Behind the sofa stands the corner cabinet made for me by Mr. Smee, and -which is just what such a cabinet ought to be. I have seen a corner -cabinet which looked as if its middle had suddenly collapsed, the two -sides going into a miserable point, which was as ugly as it was -unsatisfactory, and I could not think what was the matter with it, until -I discovered that the point ought to have been behind, and that the -front should be comparatively straight, as in our illustration. This -cabinet is enamelled electric<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60"></a>{60}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_8" id="ill_8"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-060_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-060_sml.jpg" width="317" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 8.—A Winter Corner." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 8.—A Winter Corner.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61"></a>{61}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">turquoise, and has brass handles to the drawers and cupboard, which are -made for use, and hold an immense variety of things. The drawers are -divided in half inside, which is a great convenience, as it enables one -to keep papers and properties of all sorts and conditions separate and -distinct; while the cupboard also has a shelf in it, and is the whole -length and width of the bottom part, thus holding a good deal. The two -little velveteen curtains are to break the monotony which would have -been caused had the shelves been left open; and the top and shelves -generally hold any quantity of china—the dull yellow and blue jars one -buys at Gorringe’s being especially suitable for this room; as is the -deep red Kaga and Imari ware imported in such quantities by Shoolbred, -Liberty, and Whiteley, and indeed by almost every second shop nowadays.</p> - -<p>The table shown in this illustration is one that is remarkably useful by -reason of its second tray. My own table is covered in dull yellow -corduroy velveteen, edged with a ball fringe; but if room were a great -object, and there were much to store away, a loose table-cloth, in serge -or Bokhara plush, could be thrown over it to conceal anything that was -hidden thereunder. I am not fond of these makeshifts myself; but in a -small room, where every single inch is of consequence, work that would -be perhaps unsightly to leave about can be neatly folded and put on this -tray; and another place to put away could be afforded, if we replaced my -fireside sofa (which Wallace will supply at 5<i>l.</i> 15<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> complete) -by a sofa I saw at Hampton’s just lately. This is an improvement on the -very useful box-ottomans I advocate in many bedrooms, and is much like a -sofa with a tolerably high side and two ends; the top of the sofa lifts -up, and discloses a good deep box, which would hold an immense quantity -of things; while the whole affair does not look like a box-ottoman, but -resembles a very comfortable and pretty sofa; this costs about 7<i>l.</i> -17<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, and would be of immense use in a room where one had a -great deal to put away, and very few convenient places to store one’s -property in. This would stand where my sofa is in the sketch, or could -be put in a recess one side of the fire; it would look well in either -situation. I think this corner, too, gives some idea of how pictures can -be hung about in an informal manner; although in every<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62"></a>{62}</span> case these are -represented in the sketch as being much higher than they really are; -there is no formal arrangement, yet all seems to fall into place without -trouble, and the whole effect is very good; flowers and plants are again -to be found here, and indeed I cannot say too much about the -desirability of filling our rooms with both plants and flowers. No house -can be pretty without a great many of both; and no one who has not seen -the immense difference plenty of plants make can have any idea of the -satisfactory effect of these great adjuncts to the real decoration of a -house. They cost money, but not one quarter of what they used to; and -even in the depth of winter in London one can buy heaps of narcissus and -jonquils absurdly cheaply, a shillingsworth making an appreciable -difference in any house!</p> - -<p>Beyond the chair just indicated in the sketch is a species of square -arch, and beyond that a square end to the room itself; I did not at -first see what I could do with this most ugly part of an ugly room, but -at last the brilliant idea struck me, of which I give a tiny sketch -here. I had a series of brackets put up the arch to hold china; the back -of these brackets and the panelling above the arch itself was filled in -with red and gold Japanese leather paper, and on each bracket I placed -one of Elliott’s pots; the sides of the brackets were painted by Mr. -M‘Clelland’s clever brush with red, yellow, and pink roses, and I at -once found myself in possession of a charming object for contemplation, -instead of a yawning gap, preposterous in structure and hideous to look -at. By the left-hand side of the arch I place a beautifully embroidered -Japanese silk screen in the most delicate shade of pink; I can dwell -lovingly on this, as it was not my own selection, but was a Christmas -present from someone who knew and studied my tastes, and it gives just -the right finish to that corner; behind the last bracket stands a palm -in an art-pot, and another little table with a blue cloth is in front of -the screen, and completes that side of the room.</p> - -<p>Below the last window is the long low book-case mentioned before; it is -only about three feet high, and is enamelled electric turquoise like the -rest of the room, and each shelf is edged with a frill of yellow printed -linen; the top of these shelves makes an excellent rest for -photographs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63"></a>{63}</span> china, and plants, and is thus finished; had the book-case -not been placed there I cannot think what I should have done, as no one -can sit in that part of the room, which really is a tiny ante-room, or -entrance merely, to what is not at the best a large room, but which -would have been all the better had the eccentric designer done away with -his arch and put all the space at his command into the room itself; but -he did not, and so I have made the best use I can of the room as it is, -though I really believe in so doing I have shortened my life -perceptibly!</p> - -<p><a name="ill_9" id="ill_9"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-063_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-063_sml.jpg" width="450" height="426" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 9.—Arches for a Double Room." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 9.—Arches for a Double Room.</span> -</div> - -<p>At the end of the room, opposite the window under which the book-case -is, is a door—and such a door! when we came it was grained maple, and -was the centre of a wooden partition, above which was a neat fanlight of -starred glass. I shall never forget it—never! I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64"></a>{64}</span> now put on each -side of the door a curtain of Wallace’s ‘daisy brocade,’ and another on -the door itself on one of Maple’s rods, which open and shut with the -door. Above this there is a shelf to hold china, and the glass is -replaced by leaded squares of cathedral glass. I mention all these -details to show what a difference a small amount of common sense, a -little woodwork, and a little money will make; indeed, in these days of -artistic merit, when upholsterers are educated gentlemen, and the shop -is no longer a badge of infamy, I think no one who is not utterly -obstinate and tasteless need have an ugly house; though I must confess I -still have to grieve over the many absolutely hideous houses in the land -arranged by those who are not tasteless—I wish they were: then one -could do something with them—but are so permeated by vile and vulgar -tastes of their own that they will not be taught, and continue to offend -our eyes with their belongings, regardless of the fact that in these -days it is really easier to have pretty things than to have ugly ones. -Before I pass on to other nooks and corners which can be made, I should -like once more to impress upon my readers that for a morning-room -nothing is so absolutely successful as regards decoration as this -arrangement of greeny-blue, yellow and red. I have sat in it and -contemplated it for just seven years, and I am more and more convinced -that nothing else is so entirely satisfactory in every way; naturally we -need not adhere to Mr. Smee’s 4<i>s.</i> paper, or there would be too much -monotony about it. Marigold 81 at 5<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> from Morris is just as -beautiful, while Pither’s less expensive ‘blossom,’ ‘berry,’ and -bay-tree papers, which average 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a piece, can all be used -according to the size and shape of the room. And once more I should say -most emphatically, Study your room; a dark dull room could not take this -scheme of blue, and were such a chamber taken for the morning-room, -which I hope and trust would not be the case, I should advocate another -scheme of colouring altogether, and would suggest either a really -beautiful pink and green floral paper called ‘Amaryllis’ at 10<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> -the piece from Wallace, or else Haines’s ‘rose’ paper at 3<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i> -With either, I should suggest warm ivory paint, a pink and cream ceiling -paper, and either cretonne curtains, in a cretonne to harmonise with the -paper, or else of soft green<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65"></a>{65}</span> Liberty silk, the greens procurable there -being the greens to harmonise with pink, Liberty pink and green -commingled making a most charming room, but one that should not be -attempted cheaply. Green and pink must be in expensive materials to -procure the proper shades, a common green and an inferior pink being -about the most terrible colours one can have, although a common blue -runs it very hard, as sporting individuals would say. A green -carpet—either the green ‘lily,’ that always satisfactory, inexpensive -carpet from Wallace, sold in blues, greens, and reds, at 3<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> a -yard, wide width, or else a dull green pile carpet from Pither’s—should -be used in a room decorated in this manner, but the green must be an -artistic green, and have no fidgety pattern to distract the eye or -attract attention to what we should never see, unless our attention were -really called to it.</p> - -<p>If the morning-room were in the country, were a very hot room, and only -used in summer, it would look very charming in sea-green and white. -Morris has a beautiful sea-green paper at 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; and Chappell & -Payne have a very pretty sea-green and white-chrysanthemum paper at a -little under 2<i>s.</i>, the same colour, which could be used were Morris too -expensive. Either sea-green or ivory paint could be used. There could be -a hand-painted frieze on sea-green ‘tectorium,’ of white lilac and the -graceful white broom and their own foliage, and a pale sea-green -cretonne should be chosen, with bunches of white lilac on. The floor -should be covered with sea-green matting and rugs, which would bring a -little colour into the room, and the furniture should be sea-green -enamel upholstered in the cretonne. In the pink and green room, by the -way, the furniture should be malachite green-stained, to be had from -Wallace, and the muslin next the window should be Helbronner’s pink and -green lily muslin. This is expensive, but it is by far the prettiest -muslin for such a room that could be found. I think low basket-chairs -are still the best chairs for a morning-room, but, if they can be -afforded, one or two higher chairs should be provided. I find -Shoolbred’s corduroy velveteen the best thing possible to cover -basket-chairs with, unless one has a maid who is clever enough to unpick -the cretonne covers and wash and replace them; then nothing is as nice -as cretonne, and this same material, in some appropriate shade, would do -for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66"></a>{66}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_10" id="ill_10"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-066_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-066_sml.jpg" width="450" height="202" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 10.—Simple Mantel Draping." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 10.—Simple Mantel Draping.</span> -</div> - -<p class="nind">larger chairs. The cost of these must depend on the money we have to -spend, but a good chair with comfortable springs costs from 5<i>l.</i> to -8<i>l.</i>, and, if the money can be managed, I should advise as much as this -being given; it will be cheaper in the long run. I think the most -difficult matter of all to explain by mere words is the arrangement of a -fireplace which is already supplied with one of the ‘handsome statuary’ -marble mantel-pieces, which are so much admired by builders and folks -who cannot help being impressed with the idea that marble mantel-pieces -and a claim to gentility go hand in hand, and I am always imploring -people not to drape these imitations with elaborate flutings and -flounces of muslin and general awfulnesses. If the morning-room—or, -indeed, any other room—is burdened with one of these mantel-pieces, -paint it boldly with Aspinall (the paint can always be removed either -with Carson’s ‘detergent’ or else by the ‘Eclipse Paint Remover’). See -that it matches the rest of the paint in the room; then place along it -the simple drapery I have illustrated here. This is quite sufficient. It -hides a good piece of the underpart of the structure, and as it can be -shaken daily does not collect dust and dirt, as must all more elaborate -arrangements inevitably. This drapery is made by taking a straight piece -of material about twenty-four inches wider and twenty-four inches longer -than the mantel-piece itself; the sides and front are edged with a cord -and a tassel, or else a few pompons are hung at the front corners; the -drapery is placed straight along the mantel-piece, the uncorded edge -against<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67"></a>{67}</span> the wall, and drapes itself, being kept stationary by the -ornaments and photographs, &c., we usually put on the shelf. Bokhara -plush makes the best drapery, but if this is used three or four should -be made at the same time, or else the plush cuts to waste. Of course the -rest can be used in other ways; it makes admirable flat bell-pulls for -bedrooms, with a brass ring at the end, and could be used as toilet -covers; but corduroy velveteen is nearly as pretty, and, being the exact -width required, would be the best material to use; it is only 2<i>s.</i> -9<i>d.</i> a yard. Whatever is used, the corners of the drapery should be -lined with satin, or sateen, either in a paler colour than the drapery -itself or in some contrast, as the corners show, and would not look nice -at all unless they were lined. This completes the drapery, which is the -only one that should be allowed, as it is simple and cleanly, which is -more than can be said for any other arrangement. The pattern was given -me by a friend, who bought it of a first-rate upholsterer in Paris, and -is so simple, I cannot think why no one ever thought of it before in -England.</p> - -<p>Before we pass away from speaking of the fireplace, I should like to -describe one or two ways of filling up the recesses generally found in -present-day houses. In a dining-room I should always place the buffets -there which I recommend in place of sideboards; then, in the -drawing-room or morning-room, Giles’s cosy corner, illustrated in every -advertising paper, is to be recommended for one side; this seat goes -straight along the recess, and has an end that returns along the end of -the recess, giving a corner in which to sit. As a rule these seats will -take two people comfortably. Above the padded back is the same straight -piece illustrated in the ‘summer corner,’ surmounted by the -bracket-rail; but if people do not wish to go to the expense of an -elaborately upholstered and spring seat, they can easily make a seat for -themselves by having a wooden frame on four legs made to fit the recess; -the top should be covered with sacking or webbing, along the front of -the seat should be nailed a full flounce of corduroy velveteen lined -with holland; a square cushion, made from wool and hair mixed, should be -placed along the top of the sacking, and the back should be formed by -hanging two square cushions on the wall so arranged that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68"></a>{68}</span> one dovetails -with the other in the corner; these should be high enough to allow of -using a finish of Giles’s bracket-rail for china, which should be put -along the top of the cushions and keep them in their places, and a lamp -can be hung over the seat, either from a hook placed in the ceiling -itself or hanging out from the frieze-rail from one of the brass arms -sold by Benson, on purpose for holding lamps, for about 10<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> -each, that would give light to anyone who sat to read by the fire in a -room in which gas was banished, as I trust it may soon be banished from -every sitting-room in the land, either in favour of the beautiful -electric light, for the universal use of which I pine, or in favour of -lamps, which may give trouble, but save that trouble over and over again -in the manner in which things remain clean and good that would have -become both spoiled and soiled had gas been used where they were. -Another recess can be filled by using Mrs. Talbot Coke’s design, -published in the ‘Queen,’ and which I have her permission for giving -here, and which is not only very pretty but decidedly useful. It could -be made by any carpenter first, as three simple shelves; the top and -bottom shelves should be of equal depth, the centre one should be rather -narrower, and the whole arrangement should not be above the line of the -mantelshelf; along the edge of the shelves should be glued strips of -Japanese leather paper, and the top shelf should be divided as in the -sketch, the arches being either simple wooden arches cut out of thin -wood, or else of the Moorish fretwork sold by Hindley & Barker; the -bottom shelf should have three separate small curtains along it, the -division between being strips of wood decorated with Japanese leather. -Of course this arrangement should be enamelled to match the rest of the -paint, and the silk which is used for the curtains should be a contrast; -and great care must be taken to employ someone who does not make his -woodwork with a heavy hand (as some cooks make pastry), for I once saw -one of these recess arrangements carried out in such a way that the -whole effect was dreadful, being entirely marred by the thick wood and -heavy arches of which it was composed. Any china can be arranged -therein, for the top makes an admirable resting-place for odds and ends -and one’s favourite photographs or books. An armchair should be put by -the side, and this will<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69"></a>{69}</span> suggest at once a comfortable reading-nook for -a winter’s afternoon without any more elaborate arrangement.</p> - -<p><a name="ill_11" id="ill_11"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-069_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-069_sml.jpg" width="326" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 11.—A Recess." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 11.—A Recess.</span> -</div> - -<p>I am so often asked to advise people, on paper, how to arrange their -furniture, and despite my strenuous refusals<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70"></a>{70}</span> to contemplate such a -waste of time, am so constantly importuned to do so, that I venture to -pause here, and give one or two hints on the subject of the general -arrangement of sitting-rooms; as although it is naturally quite -impossible to tell positively where to place a chair I have never seen -in a house I have never entered, it is possible, I trust, to give -general hints which shall enable my readers to make their sitting-rooms -rather more comfortable than most of them seem able to do at present.</p> - -<p>For example, no matter how small a room is, an enormous amount of -comfort and a certain idea of unlimited space is always given by placing -a screen judiciously by the door; this prevents the whole of the room -being on view at once, and gives an opportunity of placing a chair or -two behind it, which we could not do were the door to open into the -passage and leave a yawning gulf behind one’s back, or were it to open -into the room and so leave an exposed place at once where no one could -sit, because they would feel they were sitting in the passage; and, -again, no chairs should be isolated or put out of humanity’s reach; if -they are, they will surely be sought out at once by some shy caller or -visitor, and we shall have to spend our time endeavouring to draw him or -her into the circle. By this I do not mean that our chairs should be -arranged as if we were expecting the assembling together of a -prayer-meeting, but that they should be within reach both of ourselves, -the fire in winter, the window in summer, and of the light always; then -shall we be quite sure our guests are happy, or, if they are not, that -it is their own fault and not ours.</p> - -<p>There should be a place for each member of the household in any room, -and attention to these details even causes the furniture to in some -measure arrange itself and be so placed that it shows to the greatest -advantage, and can at the same time be used by the owners in the best -manner possible as well. If more lamps are required in a room than the -two or three which are usually quite sufficient for the purposes of -general lighting, those who require special lamps should be encouraged -to look after them themselves, especially in the case of the daughters -of the house, on whom, in most middle-class families, should devolve all -the flower-tending and finer parts of housekeeping, of which, by that -time, the house-mother will no doubt be weary,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71"></a>{71}</span> and will only be too -glad to hand over to those who are full of energy as well as of the very -newest ideas on the subject of how to arrange the flowers, on which so -much of the appearance of the house depends.</p> - -<p>I like the sofa placed out straight from the side of the fire, as in -Fig. 7, or straight along in front of it, about seven or eight feet from -the front of the fire; and in some rooms the piano, that most -undecorative piece of furniture, can be put with one end straight -against the wall in the recess, the other straight out into the room -with the sofa against the back, or else a comfortable chair, as -represented in Fig. 11, which will, I hope, give my readers a good idea -how to manage a piano, which can be placed either out from the wall in -the recess, across one corner of a room, or out in the room itself, and, -indeed, in any way that will not necessitate its back against the wall, -a position that is fatal to anything like music, for it is terrible to -play with one’s back to one’s audience, or to sing straight into the -wall, which throws one’s voice straight back at one all the time one is -singing. As will be seen from the sketch, the baize at the back of the -piano is first covered with a good Japanese leather paper, and then soft -silk is carelessly draped over it, finishing with a long piece at one -side; the top of the piano is first covered with the soft silk, which is -fastened by tiny tacks inside the lid to keep it in its place, and then -by a piece of Japanese embroidery; at one end is a tall palm-stand from -Liberty with a big brass pot holding a palm; at the back, where there is -no distinct drapery, stands a small screen, and at the other end is a -Cairene inlaid stool holding a jar of grasses; but I should prefer -myself a much taller arrangement, as the end of the piano is not at all -a pretty object. The silk which is found in the front of most pianos -should be replaced by Japanese leather paper. If draping is objected -to—and it should never be attempted by anyone who cannot pay some -artist in drapery to manage it for them, unless, of course, their own -fingers are clever at it—a very good substitute is formed by using one -of Shoolbred’s piano-rods, from which can be hung a simple full curtain -of some good and beautiful brocade, such as is their Nismes brocade. The -top should always be arranged as shown in the sketch, for though these -things may deaden the sound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72"></a>{72}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_12" id="ill_12"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-072_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-072_sml.jpg" width="306" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 12.—A Draped Piano." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 12.—A Draped Piano.</span> -</div> - -<p class="nind">and a good musician would, no doubt, rage about them, they can be -removed in three seconds to a side table should<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73"></a>{73}</span> music be the order of -the day, and could be replaced at once without giving anyone any undue -amount of trouble. I have seen a writing-table in a very small room -placed against the piano, the back of which, having been, first covered -with brocade, served as a species of ‘hold-all’ for all that is usually -found on a writing-table; but I cannot seriously recommend this, as it -is certainly incongruous to find cards of invitation, balls of string, -date-cases and paper-knives, and general <i>débris</i>, fastened about a -piano, which must, I am sure, resent tremendously this extraordinary -manner of embellishing it. I have never seen a piano arranged in a -better manner than the one illustrated here by the kind permission of my -successor at my dear Shortlands house, in whose hands the traditions of -the house are well kept up, and who has filled my shoes there much -better than I filled them myself; one of her improvements being the -drapery over the conservatory door, which I have illustrated here, so -many people having doors like that one and being quite unable to manage -them properly.</p> - -<p>The door is composed, as are all similar doors, of glass at the top and -two small panels in the wooden frame below; these are filled in with -Japanese leather paper, a brass handle and one finger-plate are added -(only one finger-plate should ever be put on a door, and that should be -put above the door-handle); and on the top of the glass is placed one of -the pretty bead blinds; this is a graduated one, and is just indicated -in the sketch. On the left-hand side, nearest the fire, hangs a straight -full piece of drapery, edged all round with ball fringe, while on the -other side is draped a curtain with a drawing string, which lets down in -a moment to hide the door entirely at night. A further idea of how this -room is now arranged is given by the tall palm-stand, and the end of a -deep, low, beautiful sofa from Liberty, which I never see without -breaking the tenth commandment. The sides and back are quite straight, -the seat is very broad and is heaped with the frilled pillows, which are -as popular as they are useful and pretty; the sofa is enamelled white, -and is covered with a beautiful yellow brocade, the curtains beyond, by -the window, being of a Morris cretonne, which resembles both in colour -and design the brown and yellow velveteen from Graham & Biddle mentioned -before. This design makes admirable portières,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_13" id="ill_13"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-074_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-074_sml.jpg" width="325" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 13.—Conservatory Door." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 13.—Conservatory Door.</span> -</div> - -<p class="nind">and is always a pleasure to look at. The tambourine is hung on the dado, -which is of a very good yellow and white<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75"></a>{75}</span> matting and is headed with -bamboo, and despite the favour into which friezes have grown of late -years, a favour they quite deserve I must say, I still cling to the dado -in the dining-and drawing-rooms; in the former they give solidity to the -wall, which they always keep tidy; in the latter they serve admirably as -places on which to hang our favourite nicknacks and those small sketches -and pictures which we prize, and which would almost be lost to sight -were we to hang them above the height of the dado-rail, where we could -not have them near us; so I strongly advise a dado whenever we can have -one in the drawing-room, and I have been lately confirmed in my opinion -by seeing two newly decorated rooms where the dado was useless as far as -regarded the hanging of pet possessions, but it was so decorative that I -am forced to pause here for a moment and give a description of them -both.</p> - -<p>In room No. 1 the wall-paper was my favourite yellow and white from Mr. -Smee; all the paint was a deep ivory, and the dado-rail was ivory too; -for about a yard below the rail the wall was coloured primrose, and over -this was hung a full soft curtain of yellow silk closely plaited on tiny -rings, which again were hung on nails below the rail, which curved out -over them and hid them completely; this curtain could be taken down and -shaken and replaced every week if desired, while, of course, during -absence from town the silk would be folded up and put away. The loose -curtain looks charming round the room, which is a very tiny one, and has -been admirably arranged by Mr. Smee with a fitted seat at one side of -the wall, with side curtains to give an idea of privacy, and above that -is a long bookcase; the curtains are of the beautiful larkspur cretonne -which has yellow and blue in it; the carpet is a deep red, to give more -colour, as the room is to be used for day, and therefore requires to be -made to look warmer than could be done were only blue and yellow used; -and the furniture is all ivory, and upholstered in different brocades; -albeit these are also covered with loose cretonne covers in the larkspur -cretonne, which is 2<i>s.</i> 10<i>d.</i> a yard, but really deserves to cost as -much, it is so pretty, although I do own it is rather expensive for a -mere cretonne.</p> - -<p>The other room in which I saw the curtain dado was much more sombre in -design and colouring; and I do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76"></a>{76}</span> for one moment recommend such a -distressingly dark arrangement, although I do most heartily commend the -clever designer of this original room. The dado was not the straight -curtain which goes all round the room, which I have been writing about, -but it started from the window at one end five feet above the floor; -this continued for halfway along the wall, where it suddenly lowered to -within three feet of the floor, leaving a piece of wall about three feet -across and two deep; after running along for three feet at this lowered -angle, it rose again and continued along the wall to the door. Just on -the other side of the door the curtain began at three feet from the -wainscoting, and continued for about five feet, when it rose once more, -and continued at the first altitude for the rest of the wall, which -ended in a corner; the curtain lowered from that to the fireplace, -which, with its overmantel, filled one square, the dado beginning once -more at the five-foot altitude after the fireplace was passed. The -curtain was moss-green serge, and was hung from a pole painted -moss-green, with brass rings, which were <i>en évidence</i>; and above the -curtain the wall was covered with a very good Japanese leather paper; -the squares made by the dropping of the curtain being filled in one -place by a choice picture, in another by an admirably designed bracket -for books and china, and in another by a square beaten brass shield -holding an elaborate and beautiful clustered candelabra; and had the -drapery been of some bright colour, or some really decorative brocade, -the house would have been as charming as it was original, but, arranged -with the dark Japanese paper and the much darker drapery, the whole -effect was so depressing, that I felt, were I obliged to remain in that -house, I should have committed suicide, for my spirits would never have -borne up under it. But it was a dark day, as the owner pointed out, when -I told him, at his request, what I thought of it all. But I maintain -that as most of our English days, and more especially our London days, -are extremely dark, we are bound to try and make our rooms so beautiful -that they, at least, shall not in any way add to the depression that is -inseparable from sage-green walls and darkness generally. We cannot have -too much cheerfulness I maintain; it is absolutely impossible to be too -happy and too lively; and as our climate does not<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77"></a>{77}</span> help us to be either -the one or the other, we must endeavour to simulate as much sunshine as -we can, by making our rooms cheerful and as sunny-looking as we have the -power to do. I never go into my own rooms, or the many rooms I have -helped to decorate, without feeling that, whatever else may be their -faults, they certainly cannot be called gloomy. They are all bright and -cheerful; and I defy anyone to be miserable long, unless, of course, -some real misfortune has occurred, in one of my rooms in the green serge -abode. A misfitting dress would be as dreadful a sorrow as a broken arm, -a disappointment about an entertainment as serious as an illness or loss -of money! Flowers again should never be forgotten, or allowed to become -dead and shabby; and, above all, each room we occupy should be -scrupulously clean, and without being aggressively neat should be -absolutely tidy. Directly a thing becomes dirty or untidy it should be -cleaned or replaced by something else. We should never overlook the -soiling of the paint, a crushed antimacassar, a dirty ceiling, and, -above all, we should remember that no amount of artistic knowledge and -careful decoration can make up for grimy tablecloths and crooked vases, -heaped-up papers and crushed chairbacks and damaged cretonnes. A room -must not only be made nice, it must be kept so; and if we cannot afford -good servants, who will respect our belongings, we must do the finer -parts of the housework ourselves. It is no disgrace to wash fine china, -and turn and fold our tablecloths and draperies; it is disgraceful to -have dirty ornaments, and to be untidy and careless about our rooms.</p> - -<p>Indeed, if any of us really want our rooms to look nice we should, no -matter how good are our servants, go carefully over them ourselves the -moment the housemaid’s work is done, and see that all is as we like it. -Servants do not place furniture, they <i>ram</i> it into its place. The -tablecloths are usually put on wrong side out, and, somehow or other, -all seems to require the lady’s touch, which cannot be explained, but is -certainly observable in any house where the mistress is untidy, and so -naturally excuses untidiness in those around her.</p> - -<p>I maintain that tidiness is quite a gift, and that she who is possessed -of that admirable quality makes things go twice as far as does she who -never attempts to put a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78"></a>{78}</span> thing straight, who overlooks dust and dirt, -and without knowing precisely how it is managed, gets her house into -endless muddle and never allows it to look nice, albeit she spends three -times as much over it as does she who is gifted with tidiness and a -‘straight eye.’ Therefore, if a house is to be properly kept, the moment -a handle comes off a door, replace it; the instant a thing looks in the -least degree dirty, have it washed or cleaned; let any carpet be mended -before it goes into a hole; have black cleaned off any ceiling the -moment it comes on it; and, above all, have the china clean and -straight, and never overlook a rent or a dirty mark. If a house is kept -nice the expenses are gradual; if all is neglected, the day of -reckoning, which must come inevitably, will be such a heavy one that it -will cost more than can be afforded by anyone who is not a millionaire; -and it must come, for even if the house is our own, we must leave it -some time, and our successor will not revere our memory, or remember us -even with kindness, when he comes after us and repairs our ravages, -which need have been unimportant had we punctually spent the yearly sum -for repairs, &c., which should always be set aside by every careful -householder.</p> - -<p>Every room in every house should be re-painted and papered at least -every seventh year. Outside painting should be done every third year. -The ceilings should be cleansed the moment they begin to look dirty; and -we should never possess curtains or carpets which we cannot afford to -replace somehow, or that will not readily wash and darn, and shake when -they begin to show signs of having been used.</p> - -<p>A pretty house in good order will always let, should we desire to move; -while a house in bad repair, and dirty, will never find a tenant, even -if the landlord is a model one, and is willing to do all he can in the -matter of new decorations, for somehow the squalor and grime that greet -the eye first on entering never seem forgotten, and the house is passed -over again and again, because it is impossible to believe a house in -such a state can ever be made either healthy or beautiful.</p> - -<p>Before passing away from the three ordinary sitting-rooms in a house I -should like just to speak of some of the new styles of decoration which -have come to the fore<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79"></a>{79}</span> lately, and which, I am glad to say, are all as -cheerful as can be; not that the arrangements I have advocated have been -relegated to that mysterious limbo dedicated to the fashions of last -week. I have at last, I am delighted to be able to tell my readers, -persuaded one or two of the more enterprising tradesmen to recognise the -fact that a thing which was good and satisfactory last week is just as -good and satisfactory this, and all the schemes of decoration I gave -before are still to be had. But tastes change, and it is always well to -be prepared with some new ideas, for rooms are all different, and what -suits one room will not suit another.</p> - -<p>I still like the Japanese plain paper, red and gold leather dado, and -red paint better than anything else for a dining-room, just as I cling -to my blue morning-room; but as it would not do for us all to have this -same decoration, I often advise an admirable tapestry paper, sold by -Pither at 4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a piece. This can either have ‘holly-green’ or -‘imperial red’ paint, and a dado of Japanese leather paper, carefully -chosen to harmonise with the paper, and which should have dull red and -green and gold in its design, in very dark and unobtrusive shades. The -ceiling paper should be pale yellow and white, the cornice cream. The -doors should be panelled with the Japanese paper, and the curtains -should either be of Colbourne’s Gobelin tapestry, at 6<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> a -yard, wide width, or else of self-coloured velveteen or serge, the -colour of the paint (whichever is chosen), and the carpet should be an -Oriental one if possible, with a dark red matting surround, or else of -Wallace’s dark red ‘anemone,’ either in pile, Brussels, or -Kidderminster, according to the price one wishes to give. This style of -decoration would suit almost any furniture, though I should prefer the -chairs to be covered with the Gobelin tapestry, which wears admirably, -and which should always be used to re-cover old or shabby chairs, -instead of a cheap leather. This covering could be done at home by an -upholsteress if necessary; but I should advise the chairs being taken in -hand by someone who can re-make the stuffing, if the expense can be -afforded; if it cannot, the leather should be left as it is, all -unevennesses and excrescences should be made even by judicious use of -cotton-wool on the leather, then a tight cover of holland should be -first put on, finally the cover of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80"></a>{80}</span> Gobelin tapestry, which should not -be buttoned down, but should be stretched over and secured in its place -with a gimp. Each chair would cost about 4<i>s.</i> or 5<i>s.</i>, certainly not -more.</p> - -<p>Where the old-furniture mania exists, an artistic dining-room can be -made by using all nut-brown paint, Essex & Co.’s ‘Kenesaw’ design, -stamped on real brown paper, a gold and brown leather dado, all yellow -serge or velveteen curtains, and a golden-brown square carpet; and great -care should be taken in both rooms to have the proper tablecloths, which -Burnett makes from a design I gave him, and which have been largely used -(and recommended by the several imitators of mine which have sprung up -in divers papers since I first began my own notion of giving advice on -the matter of house decoration and arrangement through the columns of a -newspaper, now some six long years ago), and which are far better and -more artistic than any others I have ever seen. The cloth is plain serge -or felt, with a contrasting border united to the cloth itself by a gimp -in which both colours are mingled, and finished off with a ball fringe. -These cloths cost about 25<i>s.</i> for an ordinary table, and, as they will -clean and dye, would last some years if properly looked after.</p> - -<p>I have already spoken about the morning-room decoration, and therefore I -will only add a few words on the subject of the drawing-room, where the -yellow-and-white scheme I so often recommend cannot be improved upon by -those who can afford a reasonably expensive scheme of decoration. Of -course the very greatest care must be taken to avoid anything like the -gold-and-white paper of our ancestors, but this usually was accompanied -by grained maple paint, which gave the last touch of horror to the -scene, and therefore could never resemble the delicate ivory paint which -Aspinall has made so easy for us; and I still admire Mr. Smee’s -beautiful yellow-and-white paper at 11<i>s.</i> a piece better than anything -else, and with this I advise a dado of Collinson & Lock’s ‘47’ cretonne. -This should be secured with a screwed-on dado-rail, as then the cretonne -could be removed to be washed; all the chairs should be put into frilled -cretonne covers of the same cretonne, made like those in Fig. 13; the -curtains should be of Pither’s printed linen at 1<i>s.</i> a yard, edged with -ball<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81"></a>{81}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_14" id="ill_14"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-081_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-081_sml.jpg" width="450" height="284" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 14.—Frilled Chairs and Sofa." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 14.—Frilled Chairs and Sofa.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82"></a>{82}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">fringe at 6<i>d.</i> a yard, and the carpet should be dark blue pile, with a -pattern that resembles tiny daisies powdered all over the surface in a -paler shade of blue.</p> - -<p>Great exception has been taken to Pither’s printed linen because it -fades. So it does; but then it is very cheap, it lasts two years in a -sunny window, four in one that is not sunny, and, finally, dyes -beautifully, fringe and all, coming back from the immortal Pullar as -good as on the day it was first bought. I don’t think one can complain -very much about a material which behaves like that, can one? But, of -course, the printed linen as curtains can be replaced by silk, damask, -or by ‘47’ cretonne itself, should the first-named material be objected -to.</p> - -<p>No colour lights up so well as yellow—I am quite sure of that; and -another decoration could be made from the yellow ‘Othmar’ paper sold by -Essex, all cream paint, and a frieze of chrysanthemums, either painted -by hand, or else of the excellent printed design sold by Haines at 3<i>s.</i> -6<i>d.</i> the yard. With this the carpet should be red, and the curtains -should either be of a brocade which introduces the shades in the -flowers, or else of a cretonne: all would depend on how much money there -was to spend; but whether cretonne or brocade is used, it must match the -frieze in some measure. Though great cornices and vast pier-glasses over -mantel-pieces are entirely out of date, and will never, I trust, return -into fashion, there are still some unfortunates who labour under these -possessions, and who dare not rid themselves of them, much as they would -like to do so, and who may be glad to learn how these horrors may in -some measure be mitigated. All cornices become less repulsive directly -they are Aspinalled ivory. I cannot tell why, but this seems to -metamorphose them at once, and makes them quite ornamental, while the -frame of the glass can be treated in the same manner, unless the frames -are quite flat, in which case they should be covered with brocade, in -the same manner in which the fashionable frames for photographs are now -managed. In any case, all the heavy flourishes and ‘ornaments’ should be -removed, and the glass made in every way as plain and unobtrusive as -possible. Draping with muslin, or even with Liberty silk, is never -successful, and only makes the object draped like one of the -lodging-house possessions, carefully guarded in a similar manner by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83"></a>{83}</span> the -careful landlady from the encroachments of the flies, and is therefore -much to be avoided.</p> - -<p>Never, no matter what the time of year, put it out of your power to have -a fire, should you so desire it. I still cling to the Japanese umbrella, -and have never found a substitute for it which is so absolutely -satisfactory. If its stick is properly cut it hides the wood and coal -and grate entirely, and gives a bright spot of colour, and can be -removed at once. A curtain hung straight down from a slight rod just -under the top of the grate itself looks very neat, as does a series of -rings to hold flower-pots, just brought out by Hamilton, of the Quentin -Matsys Forge, York Street, Westminster. This holds twelve pots of -flowers, and can be lifted out in a moment altogether should a fire be -required, and would always look well put down in a corner of the room. -One of the Guild brocade screens with miniatures answers well too, and -Giles has invented from my description a fireplace cabinet, which, put -under the wooden mantel-piece—which is <i>de rigueur</i> in an artistic -house—continues the mantel and overmantel decorations, and makes the -whole appear like a good cabinet for books, china, and flowers. This can -also be removed in a few minutes, and either hung on the wall or placed -in a corner of the room.</p> - -<p>The perfect câche-feu has yet to be invented, but until some clever -genius has done this, either of the above ideas answers quite well; but -I do solemnly warn my readers against fashionable trellis-work with -paper ivy and grapes wandering over it, fans outstretched in plush with -senseless photographs let in—as if photographs could be in place on the -hearth!—and all the thousand and one freaks of fashion that are brought -out by those who ought to know better, and who have filled many houses -to overflowing with terrible plush frames, soiled satin bags, useless -odds and ends, and ghastly painted tables, brackets, and stands, which -are costly to begin with, and so we do not like to dispose of them too -hastily, and which should never be seen in the houses of those who -really want to have an artistic and pretty home; with which solemn -warning we will pass on to sterner subjects, and will consider in -another chapter how to treat the more ‘manly’ portion of the house, -where work or pleasure may be gone in for.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84"></a>{84}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> -<small>THE BILLIARD-ROOM AND LIBRARY.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">‘There</span> must be nothing frivolous, light, or airy in the aspect of either -of these rooms; all must be sombre and steady, if not dark;’ and though -I do not go so far as this—the ordinary dictum of the upholsterer—I am -quite willing to allow that in the billiard-room at least lightness and -frivolity are out of place, albeit I cannot allow that even this room -need be sombre and dreary, while certainly it ought to light up well, as -it is a room which is generally used merely at night.</p> - -<p>Wherever it can be afforded, and wherever there are young men or lads in -the house, there should always be a billiard-table, and the girls should -be encouraged to play with their brothers and their brothers’ friends as -long as their mother or father can remain in the room as some sort of -guard and guide; the pleasanter home is made the less inclination will -young men have to go elsewhere for their amusements, and if they are -accustomed to be made happy and feel that their friends are welcome too, -they will not keep outside home for the pleasure that is to be found -without crossing the threshold. A billiard-room in winter, a couple of -good tennis-courts in summer, and the hours of leisure will pass -comfortably along, and leave neither time nor opportunities for less -desirable pleasures.</p> - -<p>Example is everything in a house: a thousand sermons will not speak as -loudly against betting, and gambling, and drink—the horrors of my -existence—as will the example of a house where such things are never -allowed, and yet where amusements of all kinds are not frowned upon and -refused, where games are encouraged for their own sakes, and where a -healthy outdoor life replaces the bar-frequenting, loafing hours, which -are all too often the portion of those who have been accustomed to -‘nipping’ and loafing, because they have seen these two habits allowed -as a matter of course from their earliest days.</p> - -<p>And before I speak of the mere walls and furniture of a billiard-room -let me impress upon my readers not to allow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85"></a>{85}</span> this room to be turned into -a base imitation of a tap-room. I am not a teetotaler, and have small -patience with those intolerant individuals whose language and statements -are all too often as bad and violent as they are absolutely unreliable -and untrue, and I do not believe in the possibility of living our -present eager and artificial existence without the aid of alcohol in -some shape or the other, certainly not after we have borne the heat and -stress of the day, and we require something stronger than water to -sustain us, but I do absolutely condemn the insane and insensate habit -in which so many indulge nowadays of continually drinking between meals. -Were stimulants taken at meals only, were spirits, with the exception of -brandy (which should be kept entirely as a most valuable medicine), -abolished, we should have no drunkards, and the teetotalers would lose -all excuse for their most unpleasant and untruthful existences; and as -we now seldom see a drunkard in our streets, and never contemplate the -pleasing scenes which after dinner, in our great-grandmothers’ times, -were visible in many dining-rooms, from which no gentleman ever issued -to join the ladies, because he was generally under the table or else -fast asleep with both arms on it, I am in great hopes that we are -learning to be a sober nation, though I hope sincerely never to see it -an absolutely teetotal one, for beer and wine are necessary, I am -convinced, in our climate, and we should be miserable indeed were we -debarred, as the fanatics would debar us, from the use of all fermented -or alcoholic drinks.</p> - -<p>But we must be moderate and we must not drink between meals, and we must -avoid the constant sodas-and-brandies which appear inseparable from some -billiard-rooms, and to which is due, no doubt, the pious horror many -good folks have of this chamber in a house; and I should like it to be -firmly understood that the room was for the game merely, and that -anything like ‘nipping’ would be at once and sternly discouraged. This -being satisfactorily settled, we may proceed to plan and decorate our -billiard-room with a clear conscience, secure in the fact that we are -simply providing a place for innocent amusement, that will be of -invaluable service at night and on wet Saturday afternoons, and that -will not prove a snare and stumbling-block to any, more especially if we -as sternly refuse to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86"></a>{86}</span> allow gambling as we refuse to allow imbibing at -odd moments of the day or night.</p> - -<p>I am always astonished that no crusade has been raised against the -national sin of gambling. Drink ruins the homes of poor men, but not -more certainly or rapidly than gambling ruins the homes of rich men, and -of men far from rich. Drink may kill a man, but it takes a great many -drunkards to imbibe an estate, while one night’s gambling may scatter -the savings of a lifetime and turn all the wretched children of a -selfish gambler into the streets to starve. I have been horrified -sometimes to see ladies and gentlemen hot, eager, excited, gambling in -private houses, the host actually bent on winning from those who are -enjoying his hospitality, the hostess almost insulting her guests in her -awful anxiety to gain the contents of their purses; and I am convinced -that the only way to escape this demon is to refuse to pander to it at -all, to never allow one single penny to be staked at cards in one’s own -house, and to make this such a rule that it would be impossible to break -it on any consideration whatever. I have seen pennies played for which -begat the taste for gambling for much larger sums; and I have never seen -a house where gambling was allowed truly prosper, or be anything save -the residence of those whose ideas and hopes were centred in this world -only, and never rose above the mere ‘society’ existence, than which -nothing can be more despicable and awful.</p> - -<p>This book is not a tract, and therefore I do not say one half I should -like to on this subject; but as I remember the ruined homes—one family -especially, where all are scattered and most are dead, where gambling -went on in the schoolroom and drawing-room alike, at every moment which -could be snatched for the purpose; the broken hearts, the miserably -wrecked careers, entirely due to this vice; when one can hardly take up -a paper without seeing the dreary fate of some wretched youth, whose -tendencies to betting and gaming have caused him to rob his master’s -till and landed him in penal servitude, I must say I cannot help feeling -astonished that the eager teetotalers do not try their hands at putting -down gaming, especially as they have the law on their side—the kind, -good, well-devised law which snaps up little boys who play -pitch-and-toss at<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87"></a>{87}</span> the corners of the streets, that winks at -Tattersall’s and the big races, and finally is utterly powerless to -punish the high-class gamester, who spends his nights at gaming-hells -and ruins his home and his wretched constitution at the same time.</p> - -<p>However, lest I weary my readers in dwelling on this subject, about -which one cannot say too much, I think I will now simply speak of the -decoration of the billiard-room, having, I hope, so judiciously -sandwiched the powder between the jam in this chapter, that those who -seek for information about the room itself may unawares come upon it, -and so be forced to meditate, whether they like it or not, on some of -the reasons why so many people dread the idea of a billiard-room where -there are boys. If gambling were non-existent, the veriest Chadband -might learn to handle the cue; while a pastor at a dissenting chapel -need not dread the eyes of his deacons were he found disporting himself -in the halls of the ungodly, which would cease to be ungodly, or be no -more so than the harmless tennis-courts, were betting eliminated from -among their charms, and nothing but the game itself really and truly -encouraged and allowed.</p> - -<p>A big room is a necessity for a billiard-room, which should never, by -any chance, be shorter than twenty-six feet long by twenty broad; a -full-sized table measures twelve feet by six, and the size I have spoken -of only allows sufficient comfortable room for walking round the table, -and for the usual raised seats which are always put at the ends and on -one side of the room. Personally, I should prefer a much larger room -still, as I like to see one end of the room furnished as a species of -sitting-room; but, of course, in London the twenty-six by twenty room -would be ample. In the country, the billiard-table comes in for days -when shooting is impossible, and the sitting-room end there is a great -advantage in more ways than one.</p> - -<p>Quite a charming billiard-room can be made by using all brown paint and -a high dado, to the top of the door, of brown and gold Japanese leather -paper; above the dado the wall should be painted <i>café-au-lait</i>; the -cornice should be replaced by a coving, which should terminate in a -top-light, from whence the ordinary cross-lights could be hung for use -at night, and these surely could be in beaten iron with some prettier -shades than the hideous green things<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88"></a>{88}</span> which match the equally hideous -cloth, which I hope to see replaced soon by something a little more -artistic, say in such a room as the one I have just described, by a dull -brown cloth, which surely would be every bit as satisfactory as the -green, which is certainly the most aggressive shade of green which has -ever been made. In this case the shades could be blue, with some lace -over them, or the yellow with no lace at all.</p> - -<p>Where the ceiling is coved, the coving should always be decorated either -with gold leather paper or by an artist’s brush; and I have seen most -elaborately drawn pictures of the old wooden ships of Henry VIII.’s time -in a similar coving, in sepia on a cream ground, which looked perfectly -beautiful, and which I should recommend in a similar room, where stags’ -heads and other trophies of the chase should be arranged on the painted -wall, which should be too high for pictures, which could not be hung on -the dado either, for fear of their being damaged by the ends of the -cues. I should advise the use of printed yellow linen for curtains, -edged, of course, with ball fringe, were there any windows in the room -beside the top-light, which should have a gathered soft yellow blind -arranged to draw over it in very hot weather; while the table itself, -when not in use, should be covered with a large square of yellow serge -lined with American cloth, with a big monogram embroidered on one -corner; this would preserve the table, and look much better than the -ordinary cloth.</p> - -<p>The floor should be parqueterie with strips of velvet pile carpet in -golden brown on the four sides; these should be mitred at the corners, -and no other carpet would be required, save, of course, a square if we -had the drawing-room end to the room I advocated before; if not, the -room should be kept for billiards only, when the strips round the table -would be quite sufficient; the leather seats should be covered in brown -leather, and the fire should be protected by one of the admirable guards -sold by Benham & Co., and which have padded tops, on which people can -sit and watch the game, and get comfortably warm at the same time.</p> - -<p>I have seen a most ingenious arrangement of small cupboards in the -overmantel of a billiard-room, which was pronounced invaluable for the -safe storing away of cigars<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89"></a>{89}</span> and tobacco, which should be mentioned, as -of course smoking will be principally carried on in this room. The -mantel-piece was walnut, and the fireplace the orthodox open grate and -tiled hearth and back; the overmantel was carved to match the mantel, -and was quite flat to the wall, which had been scooped out in some -manner behind it, to allow of the formation of sundry square cupboards -in the wall itself; these each held a cedar-wood box of cigars, with the -front end off; and the cigars were so arranged that they could be taken -out one by one, when the square wooden block in the overmantel, which -formed the entrance to the cupboard, was unlocked, and fell forward on a -hinge. No one could have suspected the overmantel of being a cupboard, -and yet it was one; while at the same time this particular spot was -especially pleasing, I believe, to the constitution of a cigar, which -appears to require a certain amount of warmth, until it disappears -finally into smoke, leaving its terrible odour behind it. On the -mantel-piece itself were dull blue vases holding spills; several -ingenious and expensive match-boxes, on which all matches appeared to me -to refuse to ignite, and the usual <i>débris</i> one always finds in similar -localities, filthy-looking pipes, old date stands, and stands for -holding the hunt appointments, and similar expensive and broken toys, -being there in vast abundance. Another excellent manner of decorating a -billiard-room, where the owner had pictures to dispose of, and did not -want a very elaborate or costly decoration, would be formed by papering -the room entirely with real brown paper, and painting the room the same -soft brown; a frieze should be added, if possible, of one of the -Japanese hand-painted friezes one can buy occasionally at any -decorator’s, representing a flight of wild ducks, or else of storks, -among reeds and flowers; but if this cannot be either found or afforded, -a plain gold and brown Japanese leather frieze would look well. This -should not be less than fourteen inches wide; anything less is -distinctly ugly; while it might come almost to the top of the door, -which should be surmounted by one of Wallace’s simple over-doors to hold -china, which should be blue and white. The curtains in this room should -be Liberty’s very dark blue and white reversible cretonnes; the chairs -could be either dark blue leather or saddle-bags with dark blue velvet<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90"></a>{90}</span> -surrounds; and the carpet should be dark blue pile. This would look -well, and be an entirely pleasant scheme of decoration; a hand-painted -frieze on brown paper would also be capital if expense were no object.</p> - -<p>Yet another and a bolder decoration could be made by using Essex golden -‘Othmar’ paper, with Mandarin paint, and a wide frieze of the dull green -‘Othmar,’ dull green carpets, and Graham & Biddle’s beautiful yellow -poppy cretonne, edged with dull green ball fringe, and lined dull green; -the carpet should be the dull green ‘Stella’ pile carpet from Wallace’s, -and all the chairs should be dull green leather.</p> - -<p>If by chance there can be afforded or managed a drawing-room end to the -billiard-room, a couple of screens will be found most invaluable; and if -these screens have a long spike in each fold, to receive which a -corresponding hole is bored in the floor, a great objection to screens -will be done away with. Furnished with these spikes, which should be -able to be unscrewed and removed quite easily, they could not possibly -be knocked over; and, in my opinion, the tall standard lamps, which are -so much in request just at present, should be furnished with similar -spikes, as they always appear to me dreadfully dangerous, especially -where there are children, or even dogs, or careless servants; for -though, of course, the danger of fire is entirely done away with if we -use Defries’s excellent patent for putting out the light as the lamp -falls, the oil must be spilt and damage the carpet, while an unpleasant -smash and fright are absolutely certain. We should be saved anything of -the kind were my simple spike arrangement adopted by all those who use -these lamps.</p> - -<p>The drawing-room end of the billiard-room should have a bow window with -a seat round, several cosy arm-chairs, a table capable of holding the -week’s supply of newspapers and the month’s supply of magazines, each in -its own proper corner, and a couple of serviceable paper-knives should -be always forthcoming. There should be a nice little writing-table for -the use of any who wish to scribble notes; and, above all, there should -be either a long bookcase on the wall full of frivolous literature, or -else one of Trübner’s excellent bookcases, which revolve and so allow -one to reach any book in the case without rising from one’s comfortable -seat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91"></a>{91}</span></p> - -<p>A venerable piano which has seen better days is no mean addition to the -comfort and pleasure of the billiard-room, and many an hilarious and -impromptu entertainment has chased away the melancholy caused by a wet -afternoon in the dismal winter country, due entirely to the happy -presence among the company of a piano which was quite good enough to be -used to accompany comic songs on, and amply good enough to form the -basis for a recitation after—a long way after—Corney Grain or the -immortal John Parry.</p> - -<p>But though a big room is much better than a small one for billiards, -people should not be deterred from having a table in their houses -because their space does not allow of a full-sized one. The very nicest -billiard-room I was ever in, and which, alas! is now no more, was that -formed by using the square hall of a country vicarage; that table -existed before the present age of artistic decorations, but whenever I -remember it and the dear old house in which it stood I forget all art, -and only remember the extreme fascination that place had for me, and can -scent again the mingled odours of the vicar’s pipes and Maréchal Niel -roses, which are inseparable from my remembrance of the place. The table -stood squarely in the front hall, which was covered with brown linoleum, -and was seldom unmarked by dogs’ feet for more than five minutes after -it had been freshly washed, and we used to perch about on the tops of -oak chests, the fender, anywhere, while the game progressed, as there -was no room for seats. In addition to the hall table, the hat-stand, -decorated with all sorts and conditions of hats, male and female, and -the oak chests, one of which held the rugs and whips, the other the -parish registers from some very bygone date, the walls themselves were -decorated with stuffed birds and animals in glass cases, sundry collars -and chains belonging to the dear dogs, driving-whips suspended in some -cunning manner to keep them in shape, a barometer which survived the -most fearful amount of banging and shaking that ever barometer was -subjected to, and finally by the post-bag, which hung from a nail until -it was fetched by a small village girl who rejoiced in the remarkable -name of ‘Rhody Jemimy,’ who had to take and fetch the bag morning and -evening from the ‘World’s End,’ the mail-cart bringing it and taking it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92"></a>{92}</span> -from and to that mysterious location, for we were far too primitive in -those parts to have a postman, and had our one post a day contentedly -enough, though I believe the present denizen of the vicarage has -clamoured until he has not only a postman but a second post; albeit, -neither were ever required by us, who were perfectly happy in those -blessed days without them. I dwell upon this room rather at length in -order to encourage anyone who may hanker after a billiard-room, and not -dare to think of it seriously because the necessary twenty feet by -twenty space is not forthcoming, and, moreover, because they dread the -expense as much as the want of room. Of course a new full-sized table is -a very expensive thing, and fittings and all could not cost less than -150<i>l.</i>; but as soon as we have made up our minds that we can really -have a billiard-table we must begin to look out for the sales, for very -often there are compulsory sales about, where a very good billiard-table -can be purchased for a quarter the price of a new one. I have known one -sold for 25<i>l.</i>, as the owner had forgotten to renew his lease and was -given summary notice of dismissal, while a friend of mine bought a -beauty for 40<i>l.</i> which simply required a little polish about the legs -to be quite as good as new; but should money be of no real object, it -would be better to go to some really first-class maker and have the -table properly set up and made, for I believe there is great art in the -proper placing of the table, and this should only be undertaken by -someone who thoroughly understands the business; still, in a small room, -and with a small and second-hand table, there may be found vast -enjoyment if the bigger and more elaborate arrangement cannot possibly -be managed.</p> - -<p>I am always amused at some people’s determination not to be either -happy, or <i>complete</i> in their household arrangements, because they -cannot have the best of everything that is to be had, though I must -confess such conduct makes me just a little cross as well. I have known -folks utterly refuse to contemplate the joys of a jolly little pony and -chaise because they didn’t care to set up a carriage unless they could -do so properly; ‘properly’ in their case meaning the orthodox coachman, -footman, horses, and a couple of carriages; whereas they condemned -themselves to their own immediate neighbourhood and to tramping about<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93"></a>{93}</span> -the lanes, or to staying at home, because they could not understand that -as much pleasure could be got out of the ‘shay’ as out of anything still -more gorgeous. I have known folks decline with scorn to cover their -ugly, depressing, bare walls with pictures, because they could not buy -Millais and Herkomers; whereas their lives and their houses would have -been brightened at once had they spent 20<i>l.</i> on autotypes. And I have -as constantly been acquainted with dozens of folks who would not do -this, that, or the other, because they must take a back seat so to -speak, and who in consequence waste half their opportunities. I except -society, by the way; if the best society is not forthcoming (and by the -best society I mean the society of people who are clever and who have -done, or long to do something to make the world brighter and happier -than they found it), don’t have any. The contact with mean, small, and -ignorant minds does one harm, not good; the constant rubbing against -time-serving shoulders and the shoulders of those who would do any -amount of grovelling to be received by what they consider the society of -the neighbourhood, only smirches us, and we had better sit at home all -our lives with our books alone than expose ourselves to the -deterioration we receive from association with such folk. But, apart -from society, I would rather have the second or third best of everything -if I can’t have the first, for the more one gets out of life the better, -and the more one sees of the world and of the nice people in it the -wider do our minds become, and the more appreciation and enjoyment do we -have from our lives.</p> - -<p>With the plea for a secondhand billiard-table rather than none, I will -turn away from the room with one last suggestion—viz. to have good -thick curtains hung over any doors that there may be in the room, -outside; this will keep the smell of the smoke within proper bounds, and -will also keep out the sound of the click-click of the balls, than which -nothing is more annoying—to me at any rate. These curtains could be -made of Adams serge lined with Bolton sheeting; both these materials -will wash and are to be had from Burnett’s, and should be very wide and -full, and should hang well over the hinges and cracks of the door; these -should further be surrounded by ‘Slater’s patent’ for excluding -draughts, as naturally the room will be properly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94"></a>{94}</span> ventilated, and there -would be no need to think of that, all our care being centred on keeping -in the room all scent of the smoke and all sound of the balls. If the -room is separate from the house, and only connected with it by a long -passage, we may consider, I think, that nothing more is to be expected, -and that here is indeed the perfect billiard-room. This room should be -in the care of the head housemaid, whose first duty should be to open -all the available windows every morning, no matter what the weather is -like, to see all the cigar-ash is swept up, and finally to slip the -curtains off the poles (a matter of three minutes exactly), to have them -well shaken out of doors and left there for half an hour, having them -replaced the moment the room is cleaned and set straight. Treated like -this the billiard-room would always be fresh and nice, and would have no -more smell of smoke about it than would be pleasantly suggestive to -anyone who is not such a bitter enemy to smoke as I am.</p> - -<p>And now about the library, the arrangement of which must depend entirely -on the individual tastes and pursuits of the master of the house, whose -room this is more especially; for in all big houses the mistress has her -morning-room, and the guests generally are provided with writing-tables -in their rooms, and would only venture into the library when the door -was open, or by the rule of the house was made free to them during -certain hours. Naturally, if the master were in no measure a literary -man, if he had no Parliamentary work, or work that required him to -isolate himself from the rest of the household at certain hours, the -room would always be free; but it should be kept for writing and reading -only, it should never be turned into a play-room of any kind; therefore -there should be a certain sobriety about it, and it should not be -furnished too frivolously or in such a manner as to suggest flirtation -instead of study, sweet sleep instead of proper, severe application to -one’s books.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the very prettiest library I have ever seen is one in London, -which may sound frivolous, but is nothing of the kind, and has some of -the most serious work of the nation done between its four walls; it is -enamelled white—doors, cupboards, bookshelves, overmantel, indeed -everything, and has a most beautiful effect, especially<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95"></a>{95}</span> against the -dun-coloured, gold-tinted calf volumes, with which the shelves are most -amply supplied; the shelves are supported on cupboards with brass locks -and hinges, and are wide and deep enough to hold quantities of law -papers; all these shelves and cupboards are ‘fitments’ passing -completely round the room, and continuing under the windows. The only -scraps of wall which show are papered with a very good Japanese leather -paper, and the space above the mantel-piece is filled in with an old -portrait; sundry pieces of blue china are on the mantel-piece, which are -never without their fresh flowers; the carpet is a very fine Oriental -one, with a great deal of white in it; the furniture is blue, as are the -curtains, which are arranged across the top of each window and down one -side only, while the enormous desk which occupies the centre of the room -is a most exquisitely inlaid piece of marqueterie, and is the only -coloured thing in the room, the frames of the chairs, &c., being -enamelled like the room itself. Now this white idea for a library in -London—dirty, smoky London—does seem absurd and a trifle frivolous, -but the effect thereof is perfect, and as the application of a damp -clean duster and a polish from a leather makes the room absolutely -spotless, I see no reason why the white library should be scoffed at as -an impossibility. A big beaten iron and copper lamp from Strode hangs in -the centre of the room, and gives the finishing touch to a very perfect -apartment.</p> - -<p>Here the room is used for important work which requires absolute peace -and absolute solitude, where the books refer to the special subject of -study, and would be of no interest whatever to the ordinary man. Still, -a modified edition of the white room could easily be carried out, and -would be far more cheerful to live with, than the orthodox dark green -and carved oak, or a base imitation thereof that we find in far too many -houses; oak, in my opinion, being utterly unsuited to a modern house, -and should only be used in a big old house where one looks for it as a -matter of course. Of the modern imitation called Flemish oak I have no -words of condemnation sufficiently strong; it is abominable, ugly, -heavy, and badly executed, and should never be tolerated in any house -where artistic decoration is encouraged and sought after.</p> - -<p>If, as I said before, the master of the house does not require<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96"></a>{96}</span> so much -space for papers or books as to authorise him to cover in the entire -wall-space at his command with fitments, I advise him to run his -bookcases simply round the room to a height of an ordinary dado. Above -this could be hung the ever-useful Japanese paper, or a real -red-and-white paper, such as is Pither’s ‘buttercup.’ On the wall could -be hung pictures, or a large cupboard well designed (and I should -suggest Mr. Arthur Smee as the proper person to send to for this) should -break the space of wall in the centre. The doors could be of cathedral -glass in leaded squares, with broad brass hinges and locks; while the -same design, of course on a much smaller scale, could be introduced over -the mantel-piece. The desk could be enamelled white, and the top covered -with Japanese leather paper. Of course the handles on the drawers must -be brass; the blotting-book could be of red leather, with a plain -monogram stamped on, or else the name of the room and of the house; and -the head housemaid should be very particular about the state of the -inkstand and of the blotting-book, though she should be forbidden, of -course, to touch any of the papers on the desk, for fear she might lose -important manuscripts. The mistress of the house should dust these -herself if the master is touchy, or objects to other hands meddling with -his belongings.</p> - -<p>The curtains in a library should be thick and warm, and should, in the -red-and-cream room, be in cream Roman satin, embroidered with red -flowers if possible, or else of deep red Roman satin or Bokhara plush. -The furniture sold by Hampton, covered in what they call ‘Khelims,’ but -which is quite unlike the ordinary striped material I have always -purchased as such, and is much more Oriental-looking, would do admirably -in this room, where there should certainly be a couple of good sofas and -four or five armchairs, and a small writing-table and chair beside the -bigger one; while great care should be taken with the lighting, it being -most important that a good light should fall on the book or -writing-table, which should throw no fidgety shadows. When the electric -light becomes general this advice will not be necessary, but until it is -great care must be taken, before the lights are absolutely fixtures, to -ascertain that they are in the right place, or else the unfortunate -would-be readers and writers will be continually<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97"></a>{97}</span> annoyed. The large -standard lamps are useful in a library, as they can be moved at any -moment, and further care should be taken in the choice of a carpet, -which should be thick and soft, and should cover almost all the floor, -thus saving the student any chance of being fidgeted by the sudden -scroop of a chair pushed hastily back or by the noise of a falling book -or of a sudden footstep.</p> - -<p>In a small house a library would be impossible, and therefore I give no -directions for a cheaper style of decoration, which, however, could be -managed in judiciously chosen shades of green and white, and I will only -now speak about the books and the manner of treating such a room.</p> - -<p>No child or very young person, and no servant, no matter whom, should -ever be allowed to read the library books, which should never under any -pretext whatever be removed from the library, and should consist of -histories, travels, poetry, and all standard works that have survived -the fiery trial of a twenty years’ existence; the lighter works of -to-day, which one reads when one is tired or wants simply to be amused, -should be found in the billiard and morning rooms, and in every spare -room in the house (Mudie’s books being also in these rooms), and on no -account whatever should a really good book which forms part of a set, or -is valuable, be lent; listen to no entreaties, place the book <i>in the -room</i> at the disposal of anyone who cares to read it, but lend it and -you may and will run the risk of losing your book, or of having to -torment for it, until your friend hates you, although in strict justice -he ought to hate himself for the trouble he has given you. In every -library and, indeed, in every house, there should be a list of the books -in each room, and whenever a book is added the name thereof should be -written down. I speak feelingly, if a little bitterly, on the subject, -for no one has lent more books than I have, and no one has been more -ruthlessly robbed; for people who would be absolutely incapable of -depriving one of a pin, lose and forget to return my books, and at last -I have come to the conclusion that I will never lend another; books are -cheap enough, goodness knows, and libraries swarm; let people borrow -there, and close your heart to the would-be borrower if you want to keep -your<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98"></a>{98}</span> books, and not scatter them generously about the world at large.</p> - -<p>Again, I should never forbid anyone to read any book whatever—a -prohibition makes people anxious at once; but the fact that the library -books must be kept in the library would deter the children from reading -what they ought not, and we would forbid certain literature because of -its binding, not because of the contents; this I have found act much -better than the wholesale orders we were given on the subject, in -consequence of which I had read all Defoe’s, Richardson’s, Fielding’s, -and other works I should never have seen before I was sixteen, and -wondered why on earth they were forbidden me. I should never have read -one of them had I not wanted to see why I must not; they did me no harm, -because I could not understand them; they might have done infinite harm -to any other girl who was less babyish for her age than I happened in -some mysterious manner to be, and therefore it is a good thing to keep -such books where children do not come and where they are forbidden to -touch books which are too well bound to be risked in their -all-too-generally grimy little paws.</p> - -<p>As in all the other rooms in the house, cheerfulness should be first -thought of: a gloomy library, a library where the windows are obscured, -is a mistake; cheerfulness is the first thing to be seriously cultivated -by us all, in all relations of life, for it is indeed true, as the poet -says—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A merry heart goes all the way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sad one tires in a mile-a;<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">therefore, in choosing and furnishing the library, remember this axiom, -and let sunshine and brightness and cheerfulness be found there, as in -every other room and place in the house; for we are insensibly and -immensely influenced by our surroundings, and we should always make the -best of our lives and belongings in every way we possibly can.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99"></a>{99}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> -<small>SHALL WE DO AWAY WITH THE NURSERY?</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">It</span> is a hard moment in the life of any woman when she has to make up her -mind that she cannot any longer consistently retain one of the best -rooms in the house for the nursery, more especially if she has been able -to realise her ambition, and to give to her children an ideal chamber, -where beauty and suitable arrangements for their comfort have been duly -studied.</p> - -<p>I know nothing sadder than an empty nursery. The children, who were as -much our own as anything on this earth can ever be, have ceased to be -children. They are still ours, but they are independent creatures; our -care is no longer absolutely necessary to them. Some may even have -married, and others may be trying their wings by some short flights from -the home that will always be theirs, even if they do not care to return -to it. But, in any case, they are no longer the dear little mites whose -tiny ailments kept us awake at night, whose clothes and education were -our unceasing care, and who found their heaven in our presence, -believing honestly and thankfully that all they had came from us, and -that we were without a flaw, as omnipotent as we were faultless.</p> - -<p>The most melancholy part of middle age is this being left behind by our -children, the eagerness on their parts to live their own lives and begin -their own career. But it should not be sad, as it is only what happened -to our parents, after all, and will happen again in the future -generation. But all the same, it must be a hardened heart indeed that -can contemplate an empty nursery and have no other thoughts than how -best to decorate or use the room for a totally different purpose. There -is a peculiar <i>serrement de cœur</i>, which, once experienced, can never -be forgotten, when we enter a room made sacred to us by a thousand -dreams and romances—a thousand dreads and fears we have never spoken of -to any soul on earth, and have to consider how best we can alter it to -another purpose.</p> - -<p>I remember, years ago, going to see a house in which we<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>{100}</span> had had many, -many happy hours, and which had just passed from those we knew and loved -to persons in an inferior station of life, with whom we should never -have any dealings, and I have never forgotten the feeling of desolation -that seized me when I looked up at the erstwhile nursery window, from -which the bars were hanging broken, and remembered the faces that used -never to be absent from that place—a feeling that was intensified a -thousand times when I climbed up to the room itself, and looked for the -last time on the walls, papered by ourselves with pictures from the -‘Illustrated News’ (I can remember them all vividly, from the marriage -of the Princess Royal in one corner to pictures of the American War in -the other), and recollected the boys who were all out in the world, each -busy with his own life, with whom I had played, ridden, eaten far too -much fruit in the sunny garden below the nursery windows (where I verily -believe it was always fine and hot), and with whom I had risen at dawn -in many a misty September morning, bent on collecting a great dish of -mushrooms for breakfast, to surprise the house-mother with—a surprise -that she must have been well accustomed to, but which she never failed -to express; she knew we should have been so disappointed had she seemed -in the least degree to expect the never-failing dish, though she had a -hard struggle to be duly elated and not say one word about the draggled -skirts and wringing wet stockings and boots, which she knew were -reposing upstairs and would be shown to her in due course and with much -wrath by Susan, to whose lot it always fell to remedy our dilapidations, -which she used to say were always worse when I was there to rush about -with the boys and lead them into mischief and dirt of all kinds.</p> - -<p>There can be nothing more extinct on this earth than that dear old -nursery, closed nearly twenty years ago and utterly swept away, but I -can never think of it without becoming young again—without being the -eldest of that small flock and worshipped as only five small boys can -worship a London cousin much older than themselves, who yet could enter -into all their games and excursions with the zest of a girl who has -never tried living in the country, and sees only the poetical side of -it; and without remembering the happiest of happy homes, where I cannot -recollect a cross word,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a>{101}</span> a disagreeable day, or anything but the noise -of the boys rushing about, the scent of a thousand flowers, the planning -of a hundred picnics, and a delightful sense of summer and sunshine that -can never be forgotten, and that has influenced more lives than -mine—more even than the generous, hospitable master and mistress will -ever know—though perhaps he does in the rest he won so worthily and in -the Heaven that must hold anyone who was as generous and good as he was -to the many, many relations with whom he filled his house, and to whom -he always gave a hearty welcome.</p> - -<p>But no doubt there are a great many other nurseries just like this -one—and, indeed, I know of several—so I would beg my readers to bear -with me while I speak of these rooms, and beg them not to make a clean -sweep of the nursery altogether until they are positively obliged to do -so, not because there may be other babies to come, but because the -nursery is useful for a thousand things, and it makes such a dreadful -difference in a house when the room is completely altered and turned -into a room for the maid who takes the place of the nurse, perhaps, or -into a sitting-room for the girls or boys. Don’t let this be done, dear -readers, until you are absolutely crowded out, because you will be -miserable, and because you can never tell that the room may not be -wanted as a sanitorium; an upstairs sitting-room, a refuge for our -grandchildren, should we have married children, and should they be -coming to stay with us, and bring their babies in due course of time; -while the room having been decorated and furnished as a nursery is that -and nothing else, and would have to be completely altered, should we -settle to do away with it altogether.</p> - -<p>Now, I want you to look just for a moment at the picture I have had -drawn here of an empty nursery and see how admirably it is adapted for -the purpose, and how cruel it would be to sweep away all these corners -and shelves. You will notice how the cupboard fills in the recess -between the fire and the wall, and you will see how a doll’s-house -should be arranged, and then, I am sure, you will think twice about -weeding out all this, and doing away with things that may give pleasure -to future generations, particularly when we must all number among our -acquaintances<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a>{102}</span> people with children, who come to tea, and will enjoy -their tea twice as much if the children can be relegated to old nurse -and the room where all is prepared for the small guests, who will for -the moment take the place of those who are still children to us, albeit -they are as old as we were when we began housekeeping ourselves, and set -up a nursery with the pride and consequence inseparable from that most -important step; while we can look hopefully forward to other small -visitors who will be delighted to play with ‘mother’s old toys,’ and to -hear things about that mother’s childhood, which can only be told them -by an authority on the subject.</p> - -<p>The nursery I have had sketched here is, of course, a much more -expensive and elaborate room than could be suggested to folks with small -incomes, but will serve as an example, I hope even in little houses, -although, as those were amply catered for in my first book, I do not -feel so bound to consider them as I did then. I should always have a -real dado in any nursery. The one used here is of Indian matting, which -is as neat and clean after ten years’ use as it was the day it was put -up. By the way, a dado should be secured at the top with rather a -heavier rail than the one illustrated, and this should be screwed on, -not nailed. The screws can be removed at any moment, and the dado taken -down. In the case of a cretonne dado this could be washed at any moment, -while stuff or matting could be brushed or shaken; but I have taken down -matting after ten years on a wall, which was sized before the matting -was put up, and have never found the smallest dirt behind it, while the -wall remained absolutely intact for that space of time, and, indeed, is -as good as new now, after fifteen years’ wear, at least, I hear it is; -unfortunately we have moved twice since then, and I cannot possibly -inspect the matting to verify this statement for myself as I should like -to do; but ten years is a long time, and, in these roving days of ours, -when all too rarely do houses descend from father to son, is quite space -enough for most of us.</p> - -<p>Above the matting—which should be the kind sold by Treloar, in Ludgate -Circus, for 35<i>s.</i> the roll of 40 yards—can be put any pretty blue -paper. Pither’s new blue bay-tree paper, at 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, is charming, -and is of a colour that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>{103}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_15" id="ill_15"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-103_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-103_sml.jpg" width="303" height="450" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 15.—An Empty Nursery." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 15.—An Empty Nursery.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>{104}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">we never tire of. The paint could be the same shade of blue; the tiny -cornice should be coloured cream, and the ceiling paper should be -Maple’s cheap yellow and white one, at 4½<i>d.</i> a piece. This could be -cleaned twice a year with stale bread, and, as it is so cheap, could be -replaced the moment it showed signs of becoming in the least degree -shabby. The best toys could be arranged round the room on the shelf, -which could be painted blue, and further appropriate decorations could -be made by tennis rackets and skipping ropes if desired, albeit I should -prefer a picture there of some kind or other, or else a lamp hanging out -over the fireplace, beyond the reach of little fingers which might -hanker after the fascinating occupation of lowering the light or putting -it up to such an extent that the glass might be smashed in less than no -time.</p> - -<p>The short curtains and absence of blinds which I always advocate, and -which idea has been largely copied and adopted, are just indicated in -the picture, as is the long straight seat under the windows, which would -take the place of the sofa if there were not room for one; but the -useful serge or arras cloth should be used instead of cretonne here, as -cretonne so soon gets out of order in a place which is so much used as -such a window-seat might be. Corduroy velveteen would also make an -admirable covering, and would always be, in a measure, tidy. It is -possible to make these window-seats do double duty as a seat and also as -a box, for instead of the front being a ‘hollow mockery,’ as it is when -it is a simple frill and nothing else, it could be a wooden box, and the -seat could be a padded lid, which could lift up and down. A small frill -nailed on the top of the seat would conceal the opening, and the front -of the box could be covered with frilled material like small organ -pipes. This would hold any quantity of work, old books, magazines, and -rubbish generally: rubbish which is of no use at all, but is absolutely -priceless to the little owners.</p> - -<p>I think anyone who has ever owned a dolls’-house will admire my idea for -a fixed one, because all who have ever possessed a similar abode must -have occasionally pulled it down about the ears when engaged in an -orthodox game with this most fascinating toy, at least it used to be -fascinating in my day; judging from my two girls no one can care now for -them, for the beauty we had has long since gone to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a>{105}</span> a hospital, owing to -the absolute indifference with which its many charms were treated by our -children. But if there still exist any small maidens who treat their -houses as we used to, I am sure this arrangement of cupboard shelves -with a real house front and a flap to let down, properly painted of -course like a hall door, with windows above, must commend itself to -them. The flap makes a table for dolls’ meals and parties, and is very -useful for house cleaning, which delightful occupation invariably -occurred in my day every Saturday regularly; but then we used to cover -up our furniture with dust-sheets when we went to the seaside, and, -furthermore, always deposited our wills in the drawing-room bureau under -the same adventurous and dangerous circumstances, sealing the house at -one side with the device of a dove bearing an olive-branch in its mouth, -so that we might be quite sure profane hands had not meddled with our -house or our possessions during our absence. I do not know if in these -grown-up days of ours, and of competitive examinations and women’s -rights, there is time or inclination either for elaborate games, such as -we used to play over the dolls’-house, but I hope there is, as nothing -is more truly engaging than such a possession, for which netting new -curtains, and making new furniture, even occupied the boys, while, of -course, we were never tired of altering and arranging and making too. -Little as I work or care for working, I am sure I should enjoy making a -Berlin-wool carpet now for someone‘s dolls’-house, only, unfortunately, -I don’t know anyone who has one. I should not require a pattern; I -remember the black diamonds accurately, each diamond being filled with a -different coloured wool, making a <i>tout ensemble</i> to be feared, indeed, -in these æsthetic days of ours.</p> - -<p>Many a wet afternoon has been happily passed in washing and ‘getting up’ -our net curtains for the windows, in rearranging them and tying them up -with ribands bought at Whiteley’s, when it was one wee shop served by -the Universal Provider himself and two girls, for which we saved our -money; and I sincerely believe my first love of decoration and adornment -of the house was fostered, if it were not born, of the intense -attachment I had for my dolls’-house, at the desk of which I wrote my -first attempt at poetry—and very awful it was—and to whose sheltering -care I confided many a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a>{106}</span> packet of MSS., which I was always going to -submit to a publisher, but which paucity of stamps kept safely in the -dolls’-house until I was old enough to know what utter rubbish I had -written, and how worthily it would have been rapidly entombed in the -waste-paper basket.</p> - -<p>Below the dolls’-house illustrated there is a drawer, which can hold any -amount of odds and ends, and of course the whole side of the room could -be dolls’-house if cupboard space were not required, but, as it may be, -the cupboard is shown above the house, decorated with a spray of -flowers, painted by someone who knows how to paint; not by any amateur -dauber, for you must never allow bad art in your nursery, even if you -know it will have to be done away with in a comparatively short time. -The other side of the fireplace can be another cupboard; this should be -treated exactly like the one shown, of course without the dolls’-house. -This will give ample space for all the nursery belongings, for no one -should be allowed to hoard, though a certain amount of rubbish should -always be winked at, but broken toys and torn books should be mended and -patched—capital work that for wet days—and should always be sent off -to the omnivorous Sisters at Kilburn, who can use anything, it doesn’t -matter what, and who will welcome as treasures what the children will no -longer use; therefore nothing should be thrown away. Nurses and children -alike all enjoy mending and making for the Kilburn orphans, if only they -are told about them and asked to take an interest in the good work done -there. I have looked about all over London, I think, since writing my -first book to find a suitable floor-covering for the nursery, and have -not satisfied myself quite that I have done it. I cannot like or in any -way advise linoleum there. It is cold, ugly, and there is an undeniable -odour about it that never leaves it, and therefore I do not like to see -it in a room which should always be as pretty as we can make it. I -think, therefore, it is best to buy a square carpet, with either a -border or else a good woollen fringe round, and put this down over -carpet felt. Wallace’s ‘blue anemone’ Brussels carpet, at 3<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> a -yard, would wear some years, or a cheaper carpet still might be had in -the ‘blue lily,’ at 3<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i>, wide width; but I should prefer the -Brussels for really hard wear. The staining round the room should not be -more than 12 inches wide,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>{107}</span> and should be done with Jackson’s varnish -stains. When the stained boards begin to get shabby the nursemaid can -paint them over herself with some stain, and they can be kept in order -by a weekly polish from the stuff sold by Jackson for the purpose. Half -a gallon of the stain is sufficient for a margin round a good-sized -room. This would cost 6<i>s.</i>, and proper directions for applying the -stains are sent out with them. Personally, I prefer the dark oak or -walnut stain to any of the others. There should never be a hearth-rug in -any room; but I must again state this in connection with the nursery, it -would only cause accidents, and would serve at least to conceal the -depredations of a careless nursemaid, who cannot refrain from making -that portion of the carpet filthy with carelessness when she is doing -the grate if she should be provided with a rug with which to cover up -her sins. The carpet can be turned round to ensure equal wear if the -square is made as suggested, and should last quite ten years, which is -as long as any carpet should be allowed to last, in my opinion; an older -carpet being a repository of dirt and dust, and therefore cannot be -healthy, a reason why I should never advocate very expensive carpets, as -I much prefer to be able to have a new one without too much exertion on -my part, especially in bedrooms, and in such rooms as nurseries and -schoolrooms.</p> - -<p>I am, however, again describing a nursery, and this instead of calmly -discussing how best to do away with it; but I will make a confession -here, and then I fear I shall show how bad an advocate I should prove -were I called in to advise how best to do away with this room, which in -all real homes is the very heart of the household. For be it known to my -readers, that, as my youngest child was eight years old, I determined, -Spartan-like, to do away with the nursery, and converted the room into a -sitting and sleeping room for my nurse, who was henceforth to act as -maid; the young person, who was as her own baby, being taken from her -and sent to share her sister’s rooms, one of which was to be part -school, part sitting room; but we were all so uncomfortable I had no -heart to continue the arrangement. When small friends came to tea there -was nowhere for them to go; wet days were things to be dreaded because -the child had no real place of her own for her things, and, after -struggling on for nearly a year, we have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>{108}</span> returned to the nursery, -although we try our hardest to call it school-room, and are now so much -happier in consequence.</p> - -<p>Another problem—should we do away with the nursery—is, What is to -become of the nurse? You may call her a maid and give her your garments -to look after, and tell her she must now take on her the work of a maid, -but she will never do this properly; she will miss her room and her -occupation, and she will move about miserably, missing the children and -yet not knowing what she misses, and will neither be useful nor -pleasant. But leave her her nursery, and one child if possible, and she -will be quite happy; and, much as we may hanker after a maid, the ideal -creature who shall never have to be told that buttons are off or skirts -torn, who shall make our every-day dresses and retrim our bonnets, we -owe something to the nurse who has looked after the children at the -worst and most critical time of their lives, and are bound, if we cannot -afford the two luxuries, to sacrifice the maid and cling to the nurse. -And be quite sure if we do we shall be rewarded; the children may be -grown up, but even grown-up folks have colds and headaches, and -sometimes worse ailments than these, and who so fit to keep watch over -these ailments as the nurse, who has gallantly steered us through -measles, whooping-cough, and the thousand ailments other people’s -selfishness is always handing on from generation to generation?—no one, -surely; and if she and the nursery are retained together, there is -always someone who knows what to do in an emergency, and a place to go -to to be petted and quieted and made much of, as only a nurse can do who -has had her nurslings from the first and loves them as only their mother -and nurse know how to love. We have two such nurses in our family: I -one, my sister the other, and I can never advise doing away with any -nursery when I remember all that this may probably mean to others beside -the householders themselves.</p> - -<p>In a large house, therefore—a house where, let us hope, people mean to -stay some years—this is an extra reason for making the nursery as -pretty as possible. One cannot be very sentimental over a schoolroom; -there is always a suspicion of ogre’s castle about that room, and it can -invariably be turned into the girls’ sitting-room or into a -billiard-room at the earliest opportunity, but all the sentiment of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a>{109}</span> the -home is to be found in the nursery, where the children are without a -care or a trouble, and where they are gaining strength and health for -the battle of life; therefore, let us never grudge any money we can -afford being spent upon the nursery. As I said before, I always consider -blue by far the pleasantest colour to live with, which is one reason why -I advocate blue in the nursery; but of course endless combinations of -colour could be had which would be equally pleasing and successful, but -not as nice to live with always. However, I will give one or two which -might perhaps be liked better by people who are not as fully convinced -as I am on the merits of blue.</p> - -<p>A pink and cream nursery would be pretty and bright, and could be -managed by using Pither’s cream and pink bay-tree paper, all cream -paint, and a dado; the dado of Haines’ anaglypta, painted cream, the -ceiling paper should be J. & H. Land’s green and white ‘Watteau’ -ceiling, at 3<i>s.</i>, the carpet should be either the green ‘lily,’ or -‘Stella,’ or ‘anemone,’ from Wallace, and the cretonne should be -Oetzmann’s sage-green ‘algæ’ cretonne, at 1<i>s.</i> 3½<i>d.</i>, the muslin -curtains being, if possible, of Helbronner’s pink and green ‘lily’ -muslin, an expensive muslin but a very lovely one, which would complete -the room nicely. The furniture should be ash and as simple as possible, -and the flowers on the cupboard should be the pink flowering rush with -slender reeds, and a few pale Marguerites. Yet another decoration could -be made by using a high dado of Liberty’s nut-brown arras cloth, at -9¾<i>d.</i> a yard; this would be sufficiently high to allow of the toy-shelf -being used instead of a dado-rail; above this the paper should be -Pither’s ‘Buttercup, C,’ at 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, a dull yellow-brown paper; all -the paint should be ‘golden-brown,’ the ceiling paper should be yellow -and white, the curtains yellow ‘Venetian’ cretonne, reversible, at 1<i>s.</i> -1<i>d.</i>, clear Indian muslin underneath, and the carpet should be Pither’s -golden-brown cottage carpet. This scheme sounds dull, but were anyone so -unfortunate as to be condemned to use a sunless room as a nursery, she -would find this arrangement would bring the sunshine into the room in a -remarkable manner; while dark-blue curtains, carpet, and coverings would -make the room less severe and be equally satisfactory, more especially -if Colbourne’s Hawthorne muslin in yellow and white were<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a>{110}</span> placed next -the window. Still, in a sunless room, one cannot have too much yellow; -yellow serge would be found useful here for curtains should the windows -be large, or a draught come in which would be too much for the cretonne -to keep out, though cretonne should always be lined with Burnett’s -sateen at <i>7d.</i> a yard, and for a nursery should be edged with frills; -the ball-fringe is really too tempting for small children, who cannot -resist the delights of pulling off the little tufts wherever they are -within reach of their fingers.</p> - -<p>A most successful decoration, if rather a dainty one, was carried out -under my directions the other day, and may be mentioned here, as variety -is always pleasing to some minds, and it may be liked by those who -approve of bright colours; it consisted in staining all the woodwork -with Jackson’s malachite green stain and papering the walls with -Pither’s admirable red and cream ‘buttercup’ paper, the ceiling being -papered with a pale green and white paper; the floor was covered with a -green drugget from Barr & Elliott’s, at 2<i>s.</i> a yard, wide width, which -is wearing admirably, and all the furniture was in quaint stained wood -from Mr. Armitage, examples of which are illustrated in the chapter on -kitchens; the settle, table, and chairs, being all made by him, as were -the mantel and over-mantel; in the centre of this latter piece of -furniture was placed a square of looking-glass, though I personally -should have preferred a good autotype in the red tints. The tiles in the -grate were red, and there was the orthodox high fender with brass rails, -which should never be wanting in any room where there are children; the -table-cloth and curtains were of green serge, the exact shade of the -staining, and the room altogether was far prettier than I had expected -it to be, although I must confess my expectations were very high.</p> - -<p>Out of one of these schemes of decoration—and I am glad to say that all -are possible, for Pither, among others, will always keep in stock any -paper that has really found favour with the public; therefore I am not -recommending what will be out of anyone’s power to possess almost before -these words are in type, as was the case a very few years ago—it will -be quite easy to evolve a nursery in the new house which will be so -pretty and appealing to the inhabitants,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>{111}</span> that when the last baby is a -tall young person, either rejoicing in knickerbockers or a frock, or in -being in the schoolroom as a matter of course, and who goes for walks -and has meals in company with the elders—and we are forced to consider -the problem with which I headed this chapter—we may reply unanimously, -No; not as long as nurse lives, nor as long as there is the very -smallest chance of illness or of our having to entertain small visitors. -For these even the cots and high chairs should be retained; they do not -eat anything, as one of our old nurses used to say when I wanted to give -away some of the treasures, and they may even come in for the -grandchildren, who will appreciate, as no one else can, the fact that -they are having just what their parents had, and sitting and sleeping in -the very beds and chairs they used to patronise. It is from the mistakes -of others we learn most, and I have never forgotten the lamentations -among old servants at home, when the nurseries being done away with and -every cot scattered to the four winds of heaven, my mother had to borrow -cots and turn the house almost upside down to take in her grandchildren, -who were suddenly sent to her to be looked after during a sudden stress -of illness, an inconvenience that caused endless worry and bustle, but -would have been nothing at all had the old nurseries still been as they -were, and which, as a rule, can be easily managed in a big house where -the nurseries have been properly arranged for.</p> - -<p>Then, too, the position of the two rooms close together, and generally a -little way removed from the rest of the house, though not at the top, I -beg, makes them a most admirable place for an invalid to retire to; -there is always a chance of illness—aye, even serious illness—as one -gets on in life, and all sorts of disagreeable things remind one that -one is not immortal; and though, as a rule, houses are built -emphatically to live in, and neither to be ill nor die in—though, -despite the architects, both these unpleasant matters are possible—one -can generally in a large house manage that the nurseries shall be close -together and quiet; therefore, they should be kept apart for our own -use. We could be ill most comfortably in the night nursery, and -convalescent in the day nursery, which could, however, be used for our -nurse did we require one, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>{112}</span> cheerful pretty papers and the -thoughts that would be inseparable from these rooms would alike help us -to bear our woes, while we could have nurse to talk to and to ‘do for -us’ as no one else could—no one who did not know us thoroughly, and, -having seen us in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, -knows exactly what we can bear and how to manage us best.</p> - -<p>Thinking over everything, then, considering carefully what the nurseries -have been and what they may be, I do most seriously beg all my -contemporaries to pause a very long time before they lay a ruthless hand -on what was once as sacred as a shrine. No amount of decoration can -embellish walls decorated with the hopes and joys of our youth, and -one’s first playing at Motherhood; no other paper and paint give us the -idea, or remind us as do the old papers and paint, of a thousand and one -things no one can possibly want to forget; not even the miseries endured -during serious illness, the anxieties turned into joy, or may be -deepened into dreadful gloom by death itself, should be forgotten; aye, -a thousand times should they be remembered if this be the case, and, -though this is an impatient age when no one wants to think, and when -death is treated so lightly that people are in society and deepest black -at the same time, and when all are so impatient of the sorrow death -brings with it, that ‘no one stays at home except the corpse,’ I trust I -shall not number many of them among my readers, or indeed anyone who -cannot and will not thankfully remember their past, and as they grow -old, Darby and Joan together, will not spare time to look back gladly -and happily to days which were better, perhaps, than the present days of -feeble steps and darkened lights, but which are no less happy if Edwin -and Angelina are still hand int hand and heart to heart, and have proved -for themselves the absolute truth that where marriage is begun in love, -continued in love, and ended in love, it can never be anything save -success, and that anyone who calls it a failure must know absolutely -nothing whatever about it. To such a couple as this, the nurseries must -always be sacred places, and they will be as reluctant as I am to do -away with them. I think, therefore, I may take it for granted that -unless absolutely pressed for room we shall retain our nurseries, -keeping them fresh and bright and nice in case<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>{113}</span> we are ill, or in case -we have our grandchildren to see us, or in case we have small visitors, -who, being provided with suitable rooms, are nothing but a pleasure to -us, when otherwise they might be nothing except a trouble and a -nuisance.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /><br /> -<small>THE GIRLS’ ROOM.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">In</span> writing about the girls’ room, I mean to consider a great deal more -than decoration, though naturally that will not be neglected, for I am -more and more convinced as years go by that something definite must be -done in the way of providing for the women who flood the market and -struggle—alas! that it should be so—in the open streets with men for -their living, instead of contenting themselves with being the helpmeets -of those with whom they wage this unseemly warfare. I have a very strong -opinion that people should not bring into the world any more children -than they can reasonably hope to equip in some measure for the fight. -Boys can always make their way, women cannot; and though I do not agree -with Mr. Besant, who declares that women hate work and do not wish ever -to do anything, I do think that no woman should be obliged to work for -mere food and clothes—at all events in the ranks above the lower middle -classes; and that no woman’s constitution can stand the anxiety of -providing her own sustenance, and at the same time doing work to procure -this sustenance; for anxiety paralyses a woman, and the more she is -obliged to take thought for the morrow the less able is she to ensure -the morrow’s being provided for by her work. She should, therefore, -never be placed in a position in which she is literally forced out into -public strife, unless from her very earliest days she has been brought -up among workers and taught that her future can be nothing but severe -toil.</p> - -<p>Can one speak too strongly of the wicked selfishness of people who bring -ten or eleven children into the world, knowing that, were they to die -to-morrow, the unhappy<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>{114}</span> creatures would either starve, or do worse than -starve in the workhouse or in one of those excellent and stony-hearted -institutions where the child becomes a unit among hundreds of uniformed -units, with never a pretty frock or sash among them, and never a chance -of anything save work outside the walls and of an ultimate grave?—of -the insensate and odious conduct of those parents who bring up their -children to have every single thing they require, and then, when the -girls do not marry and grow old at home, leave them penniless when -totally unable to work, because they have never known they must—never -have learned a single thing worth knowing, and that they must either -starve genteelly or live on their overburdened relations, or add to the -already fearful number of people who paint dreadful little tables and -tambourines, sew infamously, or try the thousand and one ways of making -a little money, which cheapen the market and bring institutions for the -sale of work done by ladies into the profoundest contempt? I say that -the State should interfere, and force a man to lay by for his daughters, -at least so much that will keep them from such an end, or to give them -such an education that at any moment they could work—could do the work -that from their earliest days they should learn is waiting for them in -the near future; and that if a man’s own sense will not teach him that -he has no right to make helpless women suffer (as women must suffer who -find themselves destitute in middle age), he should be treated like a -criminal and punished by a jury, which should be composed of women who -have suffered in their turn through their parents’ selfishness. -Naturally this would be impossible, but I do wish men’s consciences -could be awakened, and every successful man who is working hard, -spending all he makes, and adding yearly to the frocked darlings in the -nursery with scarcely an <i>arrière pensée</i>, would remember in the dead of -the night, when one’s sins generally find one out, that the day of -reckoning will come—that some day the children brought up in luxury and -accustomed to think the world their own will be faded spinsters (for out -of a large family some are sure to remain unmarried in these days), and -that all the sweetness and light of the early life will be forgotten, -and the father will be cursed when these faded, sorrowful women have to -look forward to nothing but patient starvation or a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a>{115}</span> corner grudged to -them by their more successful relations, to whom they can never be -anything save incumbrances; for these disappointed ones of the earth -always resent prosperity in anyone else, and are apt to snarl and snap -at those who dole them out the bread they so unwillingly take.</p> - -<p>Why should not the State compel every working man with two or more -daughters (after two the case should be legislated for) to pay in a part -of his income to some fund for providing for the women? And by working -men I mean those who have no capital except their brains—the artists, -lawyers, clergymen, professional men of all kinds, who have nothing but -themselves to depend upon. The man making and spending his 1,500<i>l.</i> a -year should be forced to put by at least 200<i>l.</i> a year for the poor -girls who come into the world without their own consent, and who are -left absolutely destitute, save of a certain amount of distaste for -anything save enjoyment, and an absolute dislike of doing anything save -just what it pleases them to do at the moment; while at the same time a -properly mapped-out education should be provided that will enable them -to earn something in addition to the pittance the State would be keeping -for them against a rainy day, but which would be something on which they -could rely with certainty, and which would allow them to contemplate -possible illness without the deadly sinking that fills the breast of any -woman who has absolutely nothing but her own self to rely upon, and who -knows she must starve or seek the cold comfort of the corner mentioned -before if she cannot continue her labour.</p> - -<p>I cannot put the case too strongly before the fathers and mothers who -may read this book; for, after all, they must be their own State, and do -their own legislating. They must not have enormous families that they -cannot feed, clothe, or educate respectably; and they must so manage -their affairs that the girls can rely on the 100<i>l.</i> a year, which is -all I ask for—all that is absolutely necessary to keep a single woman -in comfort, but not luxury; the luxuries must be earned or gone without. -They must do this, I say, unless they wish to look down from whence they -may go after death, and have their hearts lacerated and torn by the -sight of the women they have left to starve and to curse those who have -entailed so much misery on<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>{116}</span> them. There surely would be some insurance -company who would undertake to do for all what the Edinburgh Life -Assurance Company, 11 King William Street, E.C., does for -schoolmistresses who like to pay in a certain amount yearly—viz. pay -them a pension at a certain age, or else a sum of money, whichever they -prefer; and the parents could, as soon as they added another daughter to -the household, begin providing for her. If they cannot do this, I -maintain they are absolutely wicked in adding that little life to the -overwhelming population already here.</p> - -<p>There is no misery to be compared to the misery of a woman who, never -having imagined her future can be aught but a sheltered one, finds -herself at middle age absolutely destitute and at the mercy of her -relations. She has no claim on anyone but her parents, and she knows -this, and suffers infinitely. Therefore those parents must contemplate -this: must understand that marriage does not come to the lot of -everyone, and that, even if it does, the woman should not go penniless -to her husband, but should have some small allowance to enable her to -feel independent, and to add to her house, or her children’s pleasures, -out of her own resources. Here, again, I mention the 100<i>l.</i> a year. -Each girl in an upper middle-class family—the professional man’s -family—cannot possibly cost any amount less than that; in the case, of -course, of some, 50<i>l.</i> would be amply sufficient, and this sum should -be allowed yearly as long as the father lived; after which, insurance -money should be forthcoming that would insure something at all events, -if not quite as much as they have been having.</p> - -<p>If, however, it is absolutely impossible for a man to give his daughters -anything—in which case they ought most distinctly never to have been -born—he is bound to tell them so honestly from their earliest days, and -he is equally bound to give them such an education that at any moment -they can earn something, either as domestic servants—and, for my part, -I would, and far rather, be a parlourmaid than a nursery governess—or -as Board school teachers, designers, or as members of such of the home -branches of toil as are open to women who cannot aspire to the higher -education and the advantages of Girton and similar establishments.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a>{117}</span></p> - -<p>Of course the subject of woman’s work is one on which volumes have been -written, and volumes might still be compiled from the same source, and I -could not naturally go into all the <i>pros</i> and <i>cons</i> of each occupation -in this chapter, even if I knew them all, which I do not; but I do -strongly beg my readers to dissuade their girls from competing with the -men; they only lower prices, and, finally, prevent the men from marrying -them by giving themselves one less chance of fulfilling the proper end -of their sex—viz. to make a home in the fullest sense of the word. -There is plenty for women to do without scratching and fighting with the -men. If only they can realise that fact I shall not have written in -vain.</p> - -<p>I have had lately a great deal to do with women who have to earn their -own living, and I have never found one who really could and would work -at anything that turned up who could not add in an appreciable manner to -her income; but I have also found hundreds who would not even try to do -what I could offer them, but who preferred to dabble with paint, to -embroider hideous cushions no one wants, and which cost pounds to make, -to undertaking the ‘smocking,’ the upholstery, and, above all, the -dressmaking and cooking with which any sensible woman, who is honest and -hard-working, can keep herself and manage to get along comfortably. No; -if they can’t get just the work they want, they will not take any; or, -if they take it, they grumble; don’t return it at the time they promise; -and, finally, are so unbusinesslike that their employers are in despair, -and vow that, come what may, they will never employ a so-called lady -again.</p> - -<p>And it is also astonishing to me how the mere fact of being gently born -seems to these poor things to excuse all their failings. Rickety -screens, impossible pictures, frightful woollies—all must be sold at a -higher rate for them than for anyone else, because they are made by -ladies. And so it should be if ladies understood that, because they are -ladies, they should be more punctual and better workers than the poorer -classes, if their ladyhood were a hall-mark instead of a screen for -their misdemeanours. But they will not see this, and in consequence they -bring discredit on their order, and make the very words ‘Poor lady!’ -synonymous with everything that is bad and absolutely unsaleable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a>{118}</span></p> - -<p>To be a successful worker one must take the work which comes before one, -and one must be trained to work, to punctuality, and to business habits; -therefore, if there be one of the families of daughters no other nation -produces in the reckless way our own does, it is imperative that the -training to work begins in the nursery, and that the defenceless girls -are given this equipment at least, even if the parents can do no more -for them.</p> - -<p>The boys are born to work; they are carefully trained and brought up for -this end, but there are hundreds of cases where the fathers have either -been suddenly ruined or become poor through illness or their own -selfishness, and who turn the girls out in their turn, and are much -astonished when the poor things flounder hopelessly about and cannot -keep themselves, because they have had absolutely no training which -shall fit them for work.</p> - -<p>I feel, in writing this chapter, which concerns the girls of the -household, that I cannot say too much about the subject of some -provision being made for them, and that they should be relieved not only -from the necessity of having to find a market for unskilled labour, but -also from the trial of marrying if they do not want to do so, or if they -do not see anyone they really love, because their parents are -continually telling them it is their duty to marry in order to make room -for their younger sisters.</p> - -<p>Now, incredible as it may sound to male ears, there are very many women -to whom marriage and the obligations and responsibilities entailed -thereby are absolutely distasteful and disagreeable. As a rule, these -women make the best wives and house-mothers, but they are not the -happiest people in the world, and would probably have been both happier -and better had they followed out their own inclinations and lived their -own lives in their own way, without the constant presence of a man and -the unceasing cares of a household on their shoulders. They do not -understand Love with a big L, and passion and they are strangers for -ever, and always would be, but they marry at their parents’ request, to -clear out the nest, and they certainly miss the higher happiness which, -perchance, might have come had they waited, either from their work or -from meeting the one individual who might have roused their sleeping -souls and shown them a glimpse of the paradise<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a>{119}</span> that exists, I believe, -for those lucky natures who understand what we may call the ‘Ouidaesque’ -aspect of the case; albeit I also think they use up rapidly in that -short sojourn in Paradise, which serves more sober-minded folk for the -whole of life’s journey. For myself I cannot speak. I am a prosaic, -unsentimental individual, and so far have got on without sentiment very -well indeed; but other people may not be as I am, and may endure misery -by marrying the first man who asks them because they see plainly how -desperately they are grudged the room in the house which should have -been theirs for ever, and from which they should have been allowed to go -reluctantly to the husband, who appreciates his wife a thousandfold if -he understands he is only allowed possession on sufferance, and that she -was wanted by her own people quite as badly as ever he could want her -himself.</p> - -<p>And this brings me round to the question of giving the girls their own -room in the house, where they can do just what they please, and where -they can ask their own friends to tea should they desire to do so; not, -however, in the American way, which empowers the young people to have -festivals whenever they like, and to ask whom they like to them, but in -a mitigated form, which compels them to ask permission to entertain, and -furthermore to produce a list of names, so that full knowledge may be -the mother’s portion, and that she may know exactly who is coming, and, -moreover, what is going on. If the girls have their own sitting-room, -they feel their residence under the paternal roof is meant to last as -long as the roof itself, and they have not that hurried, disagreeable -feeling some unfortunate girls must be given by the parents who make no -provision for their permanent comfort, and who openly speak of what they -shall do when So-and-so gets married; poor So-and-so, who has never had -an offer in her life, and shrinks away from every man she sees, as she -cannot help regarding him as the monster who carries off a damsel -whether she wishes it or not, because the fetish of home has to be -appeased, and the fabric kept together by the quick sacrifice of those -who are old enough to be chained to the rock to await his advances.</p> - -<p>The home—of the making and the decorating, the management, and the -keeping together of which I feel I can<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a>{120}</span> never say too much—cannot -possibly be made too happy, too pleasant for the younger members of it; -but they in their turn must understand that they, too, have their part -in the whole to perform. The grown-up daughter in such a home is a most -precious possession; she can save her mother endless trouble, she can -and does take the burden of most of the detail on her shoulders, and for -her, therefore, should be arranged some place, no matter how small, that -she can call her own, and where she can in some measure do much as she -likes, for she is sure to have some pet occupation—friends to write to, -work to do, all sorts of things to see about, and which she can only -attend to in a room set apart for her and her belongings.</p> - -<p>In many cases the schoolroom makes an admirable girls’ room, but should -this room be occupied by the younger children when the elder daughter is -‘out’ and requires a room to herself, a capital arrangement could be -made for her by copying the French fashion of a boudoir-bedroom, an -arrangement for which is illustrated here, and which my artist has -adapted from a room I used to have in my Dorsetshire house, where space -was a great object, and where the downstairs rooms were so badly managed -that it was impossible to have a morning-room in which I could sit, -although there were two tiny rooms beside the dining-and drawing-rooms, -which we turned into bachelors’ bedrooms, and which constituted our only -spare rooms for some time. These rooms were larger than need be bestowed -on the eldest girl of a house, and were made by removing the partition -between a bed-and dressing-room; the bed and dressing-table, which also -served as a washhand-stand, were completely screened off by a long and -very tall Japanese screen; the cabinet, which stands by the side of the -bed, held a quantity of linen, &c., and always looked very decorative, -and not in the least like the humble chest of drawers that it -undoubtedly was; while the couch in the first window served as a sofa, -and, furthermore, held any quantity of dresses, supplemented as it was -by the cupboard, the doors of which are panelled with Japanese leather, -put in nearly twenty years ago, and verily, I do believe, the very first -doors in England that were ever treated in this manner. I never saw any -elsewhere, though, of course, now to find a door with undecorated panels -is rather an impossibility,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a>{121}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_16" id="ill_16"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-121_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-121_sml.jpg" width="450" height="283" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 16.—Boudoir-Bedroom." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 16.—Boudoir-Bedroom.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a>{122}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">at all events in any house the owner of which aspires to be in the least -degree artistic.</p> - -<p>The room illustrated here was papered with a very soft brown-and-gold -paper, and had a dado of red-and-white matting, and a hideous shade of -terra-cotta paint. In those days one could not find a ceiling paper -anywhere, and I was obliged to content myself with a species of -<i>café-au-lait</i> wash on the ceiling, which much exercised the mind of the -local decorator, to say nothing of my own, for though I knew I hated the -ordinary whitewash, I did not quite know how to set about a change; but -notwithstanding that, my <i>café-au-lait</i> ceiling was rather smeary, and -was profoundly jeered at by the good local housekeepers, to whom a -spotless ceiling and a clear conscience were synonymous, and to whom -anything new or strange meant undoubtedly an unsafe spiritual condition. -The relief from the white glare of the ordinary ceiling was so great -that I stuck to it manfully, and even added a blue ceiling to one of the -other rooms until I came across a pretty paper, and had that put up, to -the intense disgust of the builder and the open horror of the -inhabitants, who since my day have papered their ceilings too, and done -all sorts of other things which I used to preach in my bridal-days, but -of which they took no heed until they saw me in print; then they were -quite sure I was right, and began to alter their houses and make them -prettier than they had ever been before.</p> - -<p>I should not now put terra-cotta and brown together, but that room -somehow always looked very harmonious; the short frilled curtains were -of a charming soft terra-cotta and white cretonne, which unfortunately -has been out of stock for something like fourteen years. The muslin was -a very soft Madras with frills also, and the couch was covered in the -same patterned cretonne, only in blue and white; when the paper became -shabby and a little dull I added a frieze of Japanese fans all round, -and they gave just the colour I required to the room. One cannot somehow -buy such good fans nowadays as those were, unfortunately; and this is -not imagination, for I possess a good many of these identical ones now, -and I can never find in any of the numerous Japanese shops which have -succeeded Liberty & Hewitt, or I should say followed them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a>{123}</span> any paper -fans that are half such good colours or such pretty designs as those -which formed the frieze in that particular room. I had the floor covered -entirely with matting, and rugs were placed about. The whole of the -furniture, with the exception of the writing-table shown in window No. -2, was wickerwork, and as in those days there was no Aspinall, I had to -beg my varnished paint from the man who mended our carriages, and who -could never produce anything except a very good black and a particularly -awful blue, which I only tried once, and eschewed in favour of black, -which remained on for years, and finally succumbed to the superior -charms of Aspinall’s hedge-sparrow-egg blue and other delicate and -pleasant colours.</p> - -<p>The shelves, both in the recesses by the fireplace and between the -windows, will give an excellent idea how to manage these dwarf -bookcases, which hold a quantity of books, while the tops serve as -cabinets or stands for china. The corners of the room had a series of -long wooden brackets in each, edged with frills of dark-blue velveteen, -and the mantel-piece had on a painted board for the shelf edged with a -deep frill or flounce, also of the same dark-blue velveteen; a narrow -strip of looking-glass was placed along at the back, as overmantels were -not invented, and I had always a horror of the great glass sheets then -in vogue; while above that hung pictures, fans, &c., which made a -species of overmantel arrangement for myself, with which I was quite -satisfied. The room altogether always looked pretty and nice, and was -much admired; it was always full of ferns and palms and flowers too, -without which no room can ever look well, spend what one may on the -furniture and decorations thereof. This species of boudoir-bedroom is -always a capital possession, and were space no object in a house I -should always arrange the bed-chambers in a similar manner: there should -be a dressing-room and bath-room to each, where all the dressing -operations could be carried on; and the bath should be shut off by -double doors from the passage. Such an arrangement is quite delightful -both for visitors and when one has to remain in one’s room from -ill-health, for once up and on the sofa the whole appearance of a -bedroom vanishes when the screen is in place, which is put straight -along between the bed and the cabinet. All<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a>{124}</span> the housework is done behind -the screen, the housemaids entering by the curtained door, and the -invalid is not worried by the sight of bed-making operations, while her -room always looks nice, and she can receive there anyone she may care to -see, which she could not do were the room frankly a bed-chamber and -nothing else.</p> - -<p>Of course on ordinary days the windows must be opened as soon as -dressing is over, and left open for a good two hours’ spell of airing, -and the room should not be sat in after tea or after luncheon if -possible. This gives ample time for a due course of airing, the only -objection anyone could make to this arrangement being that probably the -room might be stuffy, or the air in it exhausted by being used during -the day as well as slept in during the night. This objection vanishes -into thin air when the windows are opened widely and kept open from -about two till bedtime; indeed, I say after bedtime, for whatever the -weather may be I have one window open all night, and whenever possible -every window which will open remains so; indeed, one window in our -present house has not been closed for a moment during three years.</p> - -<p>Now, in decorating a room on a smaller scale for a girl, her own -individual taste should be in some measure consulted, but nothing can -possibly be or look better than the delightful ‘Watteau’ paper, sold by -Haines, at 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> the piece. It is a paper of which one never -tires, and has also the capital quality of being no distinct colour, and -of allowing any colour being used in the room with it; while at the same -time, should a distinct hue be desired, a room decorated with the -‘Watteau’ paper can be made distinctly blue, moss-green or coral-pink, -according to the manner in which the room is painted, or according to -the frieze or dado selected. For example, the paper could be hung above -a dado of cretonne sold by Shoolbred at 1<i>s.</i> 4½<i>d.</i> a yard, which -almost matches the paper, the paint in this case being ivory, and the -ceiling paper Land & Co.’s ‘Watteau’ in yellow and white, at 3<i>s.</i> the -piece. The curtains could be either of the same cretonne or of a Louis -XVI. brocade, sold by Colbourne at 2<i>s.</i> 11½<i>d.</i> a yard, double width. -The floor could be covered with matting, and there should be some rugs -about on the floor, thus making one decoration without any distinct -colour. Another could be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a>{125}</span> the ‘Watteau’ with a plain green frieze or a -frieze of Haines ‘rose’ paper, at 10<i>s.</i> a piece. This is run round the -room, not put on in strips like wall-paper, and therefore would not be -as expensive as it sounds. The frieze-rail and all the woodwork could be -stained green with Jackson’s malachite green stain; the ceiling paper -could be pink and white; the carpet, Wallace’s green ‘lily;’ and the -chairs could be stained green, and upholstered either in the pinky -terra-cotta Louis XVI. brocade, of which the curtains could be made, or -else of the ‘Watteau’ cretonne mentioned above. The bed should be -covered with a worked quilt—a good occupation for any girl would it be -to make such quilts; while the towels and pillow-cases should all bear -embroidered monograms, marking-ink being a positive badge of disgrace in -a household where there should be useful fingers.</p> - -<p>There are a great many floral papers, such as the ‘rose,’ at 3<i>s.</i> -9<i>d.</i>, sold by Giles; the ‘carnation,’ sold by Maple; and the ‘wild -rose,’ sold by Haines, which are all charming for such rooms, or, -indeed, for any room; but should a severer form of decoration be -required, my readers cannot go wrong with any of Pither’s papers, or of -Liberty’s new damasque papers, which are all as good and artistic as -they can be, and which can be used fearlessly by anyone who is not sure -enough of his own taste to allow himself to select a paper on his own -account, or has not time and patience to encounter the invariable battle -with the decorator, who will not produce, until he is absolutely -obliged, any paper on which he cannot see his way to making an -exorbitant profit, and who sets forth paper after paper, trusting to his -own ingenuity and his powers of wearying his victim to enable him to -sell some venerable ‘shopkeeper’ which has long vexed his soul by its -unremunerative existence on some back shelf.</p> - -<p>I am delighted myself with Liberty’s damasque papers, which have only -been brought out since I wrote my first book, and which, therefore, have -not had the honourable mention there that they so very richly deserve to -have had, the blue and silver ‘tulip damasque,’ at 2<i>s.</i>, being a -perfect paper, and one that would be quite satisfactory in a -boudoir-bedroom, unless it happened to be a very small one; in that case -the blue and silver marigold, at 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, would do equally well. -With these papers a dado is imperative, as I do not consider they have -sufficient substance in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a>{126}</span> them to withstand the wear and tear inseparable -from their position at the base of the wall. A dado of Treloar’s thin -matting or of a good red-and-gold Japanese paper would look well. With -the matting the paint should be ivory, with the leather paper a good red -paint should be selected which will harmonise with the blue. In any case -a red carpet, such as Pither’s dull red ‘cottage’ carpet, or Wallace’s -dull red ‘anemone,’ should be selected, and the curtains should be the -same red in serge, or else in a dull blue cretonne, the ‘algæ’ made on -purpose to harmonise with this paper by Oetzmann.</p> - -<p>The planning and talking over the arrangement of this room will be a -great amusement both to mother and daughter, and I strongly recommend -the mother to attempt nothing in the way of a surprise, but to frankly -take her daughter into her confidence and consult her tastes on the -subject if she wishes the room to be a real success. I am compelled to -recommend this course from an experience of my own, because I have never -forgotten my unconcealable dismay at returning home after a long visit -to find my own mother had planned such a surprise for me, but had in all -innocence, and with such kindness, done such dreadful things to my pet -belongings that I often recall the remembrance of my start of horror and -exclamation of dismay with the profoundest contrition, for I did not -know then what I have only realised in after years, that I must have -pained her dreadfully, for, dear soul, she had done all the renovations -out of her own savings, and had taken much trouble and pains about it, -and I could not help saying, ‘Oh, why did you let them do this?’ before -I realised that this was a surprise, and I ought to have been enchanted -instead of dismayed at her renovations—renovations that were in -absolute good taste, for her taste was perfect, and her house charming -long before anyone else cared for their house, but which somehow were -not my ideas, and which annoyed me dreadfully because the arrangements -were not mine at all, and which I never dared alter afterwards, because -I had already received the changes so ungraciously, instead of realising -that I should have been enchanted with the forethought and goodness -which had prepared all this for me.</p> - -<p>Remembering my own reception of a similar surprise,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a>{127}</span> therefore advise -that the daughter should be consulted in every way about the room she is -to inhabit, unless, of course, she has no tastes of her own, and does -not care what the room looks like so long as she has it to herself; then -the room can be made as pretty as the mother likes. But there are few -girls nowadays who do not care for their rooms, and are not as eager as -anyone else to make themselves a pretty nest that they may regard as -their own, and not as a perch on which they rest on sufferance until -they are pushed out by the on-coming juniors into the arms of the first -man who appears in the least degree anxious to have her for a wife.</p> - -<p>I do hope that, whatever else happens, the daughters of the household -may never be sent away to schools, or urged at a high school to overwork -their brains and go in for those wretched competitive examinations. I am -no advocate for the higher education of women, for votes for women, for -anything which shall take them out of the sheltered home atmosphere, -where women alone can breathe comfortably and live properly, and force -them into the arena of life; and I do hope mothers who may read this -book will consider what they are doing when they force their girls -forward, and delight in the hard work and successful examinations which -ruin their constitutions, and make them irritable and nervous and old -before their time. I know only too well that there are women who are -compelled to work, but I shall always maintain this should not be; and, -to return once more to the subject with which I began my chapter, I -state boldly that neither would they be were the families of English -people smaller, and were we less extravagant, less determined to snatch -all we can from life, doing absolutely nothing for ourselves that we can -get someone else to do for us. Why, I know myself one family of five or -six daughters who, if their father died to-morrow, would not have 50<i>l.</i> -a year, yet who go out night after night to balls, who take cabs at -every moment, never saving a shilling, who are waited upon by half a -dozen servants, and yet who ought to do the housework themselves, who -ought to be content with a quarter of the gaiety they insist upon. The -poor silly things even went to Court, though, Heaven knows, the Queen -would have sent them back again had she known what their dresses -cost—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a>{128}</span>a price, moreover, that would never be paid—and who finally -would have far more chance of happy marriage than they have now, when -every man they know looks askance at their garments, and then at their -father’s worried face, and avoids them, justly declining to put -themselves in the noose which is round his neck, and which will surely -kill him, even if he can keep his head above water for much longer. This -case is the case of hundreds of families at present, and therefore I -feel I cannot say too much about it, and I do hope mothers will -therefore think a little more about their daughters, and endeavour to -restore a little of the quiet and simplicity which are almost extinct in -this rushing era of ours, and which can never be found among those who -are cast out from the shelter of home and forced into competition—a -competition that is as odious as it is unnecessary in most girls’ lives, -and that would be altogether unnecessary were there fewer girls in the -world, and were we content to spend one quarter of the money we do on -all sorts of nonsense and on extra servants, who only make our daughters -lazy and luxurious when they ought undoubtedly to be up and doing.</p> - -<p>The moment a girl leaves the control of the schoolroom and the watchful -eye of the governess she should be told that, though now she is to some -extent her own mistress, she must not consider her education finished, -but rather that the real part of education is just beginning, and that -it is absolutely necessary that every day should begin with some steady -work; and it is also well that some definite rule should be made on this -subject: certain small household duties should be given to her, and -certain studies should be continued, leaving it to her to select in some -measure what those studies shall be.</p> - -<p>Now in the richest households there are many things which should never -be left to servants if one wishes the house to look like the abode of a -lady, and not of a <i>nouveau riche</i> one, the principal one in my eyes -being the arrangement of the flowers. The best gardener in the world has -only a gardener’s ideas, and cannot know what to bring in and how to -place what he brings in in an absolutely satisfactory way, and, as dead -flowers and fading plants are disgraceful and worse than an utter -absence of floral decoration, the first duty a girl should undertake is -that of going round the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a>{129}</span> rooms the moment breakfast is over, to decide -which plants are to be removed and which vases should be refilled. In -the country the gardener should wait her orders, and have the flowers -gathered dry and before the heat of the sun is on them, and should -himself exchange the plants, the position of them being determined by -his mistress, as the arrangement of the flowers should be left to her -alone. If done systematically in the manner here indicated, all the -house will look fresh and nice, and there would be no chance of -overwork.</p> - -<p>To arrange the flowers an old dress should be worn, also a large apron -and sleeves should be donned. Despite the fact that the gardener should -bring in the flowers, there is always something extra to gather at the -last moment, and one rushes out, gets one’s skirts covered with damp -mould and dew from the grass, or shakes down a quart or so of water from -the trees all over one, and a dress is spoiled in a moment—a serious -matter at all times, but something more than serious when one has -forestalled one’s allowance, and can’t afford another garment anyhow.</p> - -<p>The arrangement of the flowers in most houses nowadays would occupy at -least an hour, after which the girl should sit down for a steady read at -some standard work carefully chosen for her, or else to any sewing work -she may care for; then she should take up her hobby—and I trust she may -have one for her own sake—and she should either practise, paint or -write, or do anything she likes (save read novels) until the hour before -luncheon, when she <i>must</i> go out. If she be wise she will continue her -regular walk with the schoolroom party; if not, she must be sent out to -see her friends, do ‘errands’ about the village or town, or else arrange -for a game at tennis—anything to ensure some exercise. The girls of the -present day don’t care for walks for walking’s sake, but they must have -open-air exercise somehow, whether they care for it or not.</p> - -<p>In London, I maintain, any girl who knows how to behave, and who is told -plainly how to conduct herself, can safely go about the streets alone -from the day she is eighteen. I have done so ever since I can remember, -and though I do not consider myself lovely, I certainly was nice-looking -(please, I am not conceited), and I never met with any adventure of the -very smallest kind; and given a straightforward<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a>{130}</span> walk, an air of having -something to do and doing it, no peeping into shop-windows, for example, -and not a suspicion of loitering anywhere, I maintain any ordinary girl -can go about alone perfectly, should it be inconvenient to send someone -with her, or should she have no girl friend or sister with whom to walk; -anyhow, London is much safer than the country, with its crawling tramps -and its suspicious cows at every corner, to say nothing of mad bulls and -dogs and all kinds of perilous adventures.</p> - -<p>The morning walk disposed of, after luncheon then could come any -pleasures. There are sure to be calls to be made, tennis to go to, -afternoon parties, concerts, and all kinds of small dissipations; then -would come dinner, after which, if there were no going out, amusing -books could be allowed, and, in fact, any amusement that she -particularly cares for should now be indulged in. The evenings should be -entirely her own; and if she has any hobbies, and wishes to continue the -morning’s work, let her do so. You will very likely be as glad to be -left alone for a little with your husband as she is anxious to return to -her own quarters and resume the special employments on which she was -engaged.</p> - -<p>I am now writing about those lucky girls who have an assured future of -some kind, who, though they may not be rich should their father die, -will not have to join in the fearful battle for bread, and who should -represent the sex universally had I my way; and, therefore, I do not -dwell on the necessity for toil that would be inevitable were the girls’ -parents aware of the sword hanging over their heads. In this case the -girls should know the truth, and should themselves elect whether they -should prepare armour against the fray, or hang about, hoping against -hope that they may be married before the evil days that must come fall -upon the household. But girls who are pretty well off, and who, as I -said before, cannot starve if their parents die, should still endeavour -to find some real occupation for themselves; they may never want to make -much money by it, but they should always be able to save money by it; -and if they cannot do anything definite, or that will be likely to be -heard of in the world, they should cultivate their fingers, and should -learn to embroider and sew, in order that their room at first, and their -houses afterwards,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a>{131}</span> should be made beautiful by them, and should show -evidences of their industry, and the excellent uses they have made of -their time.</p> - -<p>Make the girls’ room pretty, and the girls will like to sit there and -spend their time carefully within the charming walls; but do not for one -moment tolerate laziness, lounging, or novel-reading; and as long as the -girls are at home, see that the mornings, at all events, are properly -employed. The results of the day should be seen, should be inspected, -and the masters or mistresses, who should still attend to continue some -lessons (German, music, and painting being the best, I think), should be -interviewed now and again about the progress of the pupil; and a -watchful but not inquisitorial eye should be kept on all that goes on in -the room, else we shall find it turned into a rubbish-place, or a spot -where all is play and nothing useful is ever done.</p> - -<p>Lessons in dressmaking and in cooking should be given, if possible, to -every girl; and she should also at the earliest age possible be taught -to knit socks and stockings, and, above all, she should, in the very -fullest sense of the word, learn her duty to her neighbours, and be -taught that her superior advantages both of time and money should be -tithed for those whose lives lack so much, and could be made so very -much brighter were we all to do our duty by them. I am not an advocate -for slumming; I do not consider any girl should have a district, and, -unless in the country, Sunday-school teaching is not always to be -attempted; but some part of the day should be set aside, either for -working for the poor—amply represented to me by the Sisters at the -Kilburn Orphanage—or in making some life brighter. In the country it is -easy to collect flowers for hospitals, or to ask dwellers in courts to -tea in the garden in London, to make things which will be useful, and to -take girls and boys occasionally to some museum or picture gallery, just -for an hour’s change from the crowded streets.</p> - -<p>I think girls should always do one thing during the day, as a matter of -custom, for the poor; but whatever is done should be done under some -direction. Young folks are enthusiastic and hurried, and often do more -harm than good by indiscriminate charity. But then the clergyman of the -parish can sometimes be consulted, and when he cannot, I say, Send to -Kilburn, to the Orphanage in Randolph<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a>{132}</span> Gardens. There, without -consideration of creed, with large and vigorous minds and hearts, all -are helped; and all work can be used, all help received, with the -perfect assurance that what we send there will emphatically reach those -for whom it is meant, and that there are no highly paid secretaries to -come before the poor and suffering.</p> - -<p>These are all large matters to be discussed in this book, but I cannot -think they are out of place. I am thankful to say that far more people -trouble themselves now about their poorer neighbours than in bygone -days; that rich men realise that they are only stewards of their -property, and that they should administer their goods for the poor as -well as for themselves; that while the owner of a large park and -magnificent pictures is not bound to cut up the former for -allotment-grounds, or distribute the latter among the denizens of -Whitechapel, he is bound to allow them to see both, under proper -control, whenever he is called upon to do so; that garden-parties for -the poor are far more necessary than garden-parties for the rich; and -that all who regard life rightfully and have had a large share of life’s -best things are bound, by their duty to God and their neighbour, to -administer them in some measure for the poor, who will gradually become -more fit to share them as we show them our possessions and teach them -how to regard them properly. Under these circumstances there is great -hope that our girls may advance farther than we have done, and, being -most carefully trained from their earliest days to remember God’s poor, -may do so as a matter of course, and may consider that day wasted indeed -which cannot show at least one thing done to alleviate some of the -misery and poverty there is in this overcrowded world of ours.</p> - -<p>The weaker sex indeed! We may be weak physically—we are, we allow that; -we allow that our impulsiveness, our weakness, our very structure, -forbids us battling with the men, shoulder to shoulder, in that dreadful -scrimmage for life in which some women would cast us all; and all we beg -is to be allowed to confess that, and have some shelter provided for us, -where we can do our part of the world’s work—our part, that a weak mind -cannot undertake, but that is essentially the woman’s part—the part of -beautifier of the home and administrator of the finances, and, through -the home, of the outside world, too, where we see all men as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a>{133}</span> our -brothers and sisters, and where we recognise our place as helpers (not -rivals), of consolers (not competitors) of the men, who should do the -sheltering and home-providing that no woman, except under most -exceptional circumstances, can possibly manage by herself alone.</p> - -<p>Therefore, if all who have girls remember this, and instil in their -hearts the fact that we want them at home, that even if they should not -marry or become senior wranglers, or anything else equally prominent and -unpleasant, their lives can be busy and useful and fully occupied, and -of infinite use in their generation, we shall do something for the world -at large even if we let all this grow only out of the innocent -preparation of the girls’ room when they have reached the end of the -first stage of their life, and become in some measure mistresses of -themselves. But, for fear I may be considered too solemn and serious, -and for fear that my readers may think I am adverse to gaiety, and would -not let girls enjoy themselves under any circumstances whatever, I will -finish this chapter, and pass on to consider far more frivolous -things—namely, how to manage one’s dress allowance, and, furthermore, -how best to arrange for any festivities we may be able to afford when we -have maidens in the household who are anxious to ‘come out.’</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /><br /> -<small>COMING-OUT AND DRESS.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">I always</span> regard the expression ‘coming-out’ as rather a ridiculous one, -when used by the ordinary upper middle-class household; yet, as it has -become a recognised part of our vocabulary, I suppose we must all adopt -it when we talk of that enchanting period of a girl’s life which occurs -when she is about eighteen, and is in some measure emancipated from the -control and ever-watchful care which have been her portion from the day -she was born until the joyful moment arrives when the books may be -closed and the schoolroom-door shut, and she takes her place among her -elders as a right, and not on sufferance any more.</p> - -<p>Here I should like to pause for a moment to impress<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a>{134}</span> upon all mothers -who may read my book that a girl should remain absolutely in the -schoolroom until she reaches her eighteenth birthday; the longer she can -be kept from the turmoil of life, from the shams and wearinesses of -ordinary society, and from any temptations to shirk her education, the -better. She will not be pleased with her mother at the time; she will -think regretfully and, may be, angrily of those of her less guarded, -more ‘fortunate’ (?) friends, who are ‘all over the place’ at seventeen, -who never read an instructive book or think of anything save dress, -admirers, and what dissipation is in store for them next; but when she -looks back at her girlhood from the altitude of that calm, sheltered -middle-age I wish for all girls for whom I care, she will see what she -has to thank her mother for, and all the disagreeable feelings she had -then towards her will be atoned for a thousandfold in the flood of -grateful affection which will fill her heart, and in the love which she -will entertain for one who trained her so carefully, and who cared for -no present lack of affection, because she knew quite well she would -infallibly and at no very late date reap her reward.</p> - -<p>The years from sixteen to eighteen are undoubtedly the years during -which a girl learns most, and in a properly guarded household she would -then comprehend more fully than at any other time how necessary it is to -use every moment for the best. She would form habits of study, -regularity, and appreciation of what is best in art and literature which -she would never lose, and which would only develop as years went on; and -she would, furthermore, lay in a stock of health, on which she could -draw at will when the real stress of living begins, and she finds -herself in her turn with a heavy burden of real work on her shoulders, -and has a house to manage, a husband to please, and children to bring -forth and care for unceasingly.</p> - -<p>And this latter is the strongest argument I can use against girls being -‘brought out’ too young; if they are they may marry. I knew one parent -criminal enough to allow a child of sixteen to take upon herself this -burden; and should they marry and have children they entail on -themselves and on unborn generations misery compared with which a life -spent always in the schoolroom would be a life of Elysian and purest -delight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a>{135}</span></p> - -<p>The first thing to consider with our girls is their health: let that -stand before every single thing; dress them as little mites carefully -and warmly; as young girls insist on warm clothing and perpetually dry -feet and skirts; never allow a game of tennis on a damp lawn to pass by -without seeing that no damage is done thereby; and then, furthermore, -insist on early bed until the lesson-time is over; allow no dances of -any kind, forbid entirely the children’s parties, which are at the root -of half the epidemics, the affectations and the bad manners of the -present day; while you take care that pleasant companionship, treats in -the shape of afternoon concerts or plays, or tennis-parties with -children their own age, these give the necessary relaxation, and you can -face the ‘coming-out’ gaieties with a light heart, knowing quite well -that your daughter has the necessary physique to stand the strain, and -that she has arrived at a common-sense age, and will be able to know -when she has had enough pleasure, the while she will care herself for -something beside balls and parties, albeit she will in no measure -despise a proper allowance of both.</p> - -<p>I am no Puritan; I do not object to dancing or theatres, or any other -amusement, but I do plead for moderation in all things, and that a girl -may have time for something beside mere play. I ask it not only because -their mental health must suffer, but because their physique cannot -possibly stand that present strain and yet remain intact ready to bear -the yet greater strain to which most women are exposed during their -married life. I know only too well what an uncontrolled girlhood and -unending gaieties did for me, and I am only again writing out of my own -experience in the hope that I may save some few girls from the misery in -store for them if they begin their fashionable life before they are -eighteen and if, when they begin it, they have no moderation about it, -and go from ball to ball, party to party, until their faces become thin -and wretched, their bloom goes, their tempers and noses sharpen -together, and they are unstrung and miserable just at the time when life -demands most from them, and they ought to be as well and happy as they -are miserable, nervous, and broken in spirits and in health.</p> - -<p>I actually have known one mother introduce her daughter at seventeen -because the next daughter was far<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a>{136}</span> prettier, and she wished to give No. -1 ‘a chance’ before No. 2 appeared on the scene. Can anything be more -ignoble than that? And it is to save both mothers and daughters from a -similar fate to that which will overtake this couple that I am pleading -for the girls; that, in fact, they may be saved from themselves by the -prompt action of those who ought to be the first to shield their -children from a too early contact with the world.</p> - -<p>I should myself keep a girl to regular hours until she was eighteen, but -even after that, as I have shown in my last chapter, she should have -employment and occupation. Until she was eighteen she should never be in -bed later than 9.30, and she should always be down at 8.30, while she -ought never to be allowed to go to any large dance before then. Small -ones, ending at 11, should be very sparsely attended, and those not at -all until she was past seventeen. When the auspicious date of her -eighteenth birthday draws near, a great effort should be made to -celebrate it properly. On that date a girl comes into her kingdom, -accepts at your hands the sceptre of self-rule and the crown of an -educated and well-guarded girlhood, and certainly some special notice -should be taken of such an occasion.</p> - -<p>Not, please, by her being presented at Court; the present-day rush of -the wives of wine merchants, successful upholsterers, and tradesmen of -all kinds has made what was once a stately and beautiful ceremony a -mockery indeed. Of course girls whose parents are about the Court, who -have long pedigrees and ancient titles, are bound to be introduced to -the Head of Society and to take their places round the throne; but just -think for a moment what it means to the ordinary middle-class family, -the frightful expense, the worry and strain of the presentation, the -fatigue and showing off at the ‘Drawing Room teas’ afterwards, and, -finally, the dead and unpleasant certainty that they will never be asked -to one Court function, that they are no nearer being the bosom friend of -the princesses than they were before, and that their social status has -not been improved in the least; indeed, it has gone down, for old -friends sneer at the foolishness and scoff when they see the name in the -paper, remembering with redoubled force the counters of the wine -merchant and shopkeeper, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a>{137}</span> would have been entirely forgotten had -not the ‘fierce light which beats upon the throne’ been reflected on -those who approach it and shown up the flaws in the pedigree which were -on the way to oblivion, but which give ample scope for scoffing from the -very lips which are drinking the tea at the ‘reception’ after the -Drawing Room, where all are wondering what the dresses cost, and whether -Jones or Smith, as the case may be, will last over the season, or -whether he will marry off his daughters before the crash comes and all -go under together!</p> - -<p>Remember, I am not scoffing at trade; it would ill become me to do so; -but I am simply asking my readers to be sensible and to be frankly and -absolutely themselves. Personally I would far rather pin my rights to -being a lady on the fact that art and literature have been my sponsors -than on being the great-great-granddaughter of a king’s mistress or a -ruffianly robber of other men’s goods; but that has nothing to do with -the subject. A waiter on courts should have business at those courts; -therefore I say that those who cannot consider themselves owing the -Queen a call, and the courtesy of showing her their girls as they grow -up to take their places, either as friends or servants, have any right -to go there, and that they had much better stay at home and not make -themselves ridiculous by an attempt to be and seem what they can never -really be.</p> - -<p>Let us suppose that our eloquence has prevailed, and that the girl has -reached her eighteenth birthday, and there is no talk of her being -presented, or any such nonsense; but still something must be done to -celebrate the auspicious event. If the birthday is in autumn or winter, -or very early spring, there is no reason why a dance should not be -indulged in, more especially if it can be afforded, or if there is room -for such dissipation. These two things are, of course, to be considered -before anything else.</p> - -<p>A ball can cost any sum anyone likes to spend on it; all depends on the -purse and the ideas. If we engage a good hall and band, go in for a -regular and first-rate supper, any amount of flowers, and so on, I -tremble to think what the bills may come to; but all can be ascertained -by writing to the different places where such things are to be found. -Gunter will give an estimate per head<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a>{138}</span> for the supper; the Prince’s Hall -secretary will tell you the charges per night; Mrs. Green, of Crawford -Street, W., will tell you what her fee for decorating the room would be; -and Mitchell, of Bond Street, would provide the band. But people who can -afford to arrange matters <i>en grand seigneur</i> are not likely to come to -me for advice; if they did, I should only hand them over to the -above-named authorities. Still, if these lucky folk should come across -my book, this will tell them what to do. But ordinary folk can give a -very enjoyable dance for a little over 50<i>l.</i> to about 125 people, -making the hours from eight to twelve, and having a stand-up supper at -about 5<i>s.</i> a head, ending up with soup just before the guests start for -home; and I fancy that, if one had a sufficiently large house, and could -manage the supper oneself, it could be done for very much less, -particularly if one has a stand-up supper, which is really all that can -be required when people have dined late, and only want something to -carry them over the later hours and the extra amount of fatigue.</p> - -<p>To make such a dance a success, the floor must be perfect, a band of -from three to five performers engaged, and people must be thoroughly -well introduced to each other, and, if possible, no girl must be seen -sitting out without a valiant struggle on the part of the hostess to -prevent such a sad occurrence by finding her a partner. I cannot -countenance or believe in dances, or, in fact, any social gathering, -where there are no introductions; it is simply an excuse for laziness on -the part of the hostess, which all too often condemns her guests to a -great deal of misery and dulness. Of course the theory is a perfectly -correct one; the practice, however, cannot, in my opinion, be too -heartily condemned. There will always be <i>débutantes</i> and shy girls who -know very few people, and these cannot possibly dance unless we see they -know men to dance with.</p> - -<p>Is there any misery like the misery of a girl who is dying to dance, who -loves the exercise for its own sake, and who has to sit out on a bench, -her feet impatiently tapping the floor, and her little heart ready to -break with disappointment, while she sees married women, who ought to -know better, and who ought never to dance at all as long as a girl is -sitting out, prancing all about the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a>{139}</span> and caring nothing for the -poor young things whose day it is? As long as they enjoy themselves, -that is quite enough for them.</p> - -<p>The watchful hostess will have none of these engaging little ways at her -dances: the girls are provided for first, the matrons after; and as this -would be impossible were introductions done away with, I would impress -upon my readers to cling to this old fashion, and to see that the girls -enjoy themselves, no matter who else do not. Except as chaperons married -women are out of place in the ballroom, and should not be encouraged to -come there; if they do their duty by their homes, their husbands, and -their children, they could have neither time nor inclination for such a -pursuit.</p> - -<p>When my own daughter ‘came out’ the other day, we had about 125 people -to a dance in Watford, and it cost us just under 50<i>l.</i> Because our -house was too small to have any festivity in, we had to engage rooms, -which cost about 5<i>l.</i>; the supper cost about 25<i>l.</i>, at 5<i>s.</i> a head, -including soup, aërated waters, and waiters, and a certain amount of -decoration for the approach, anterooms, &c. We had plenty of moss, -plants, &c., which our own gardener arranged. The local band of three -performers cost 3<i>l.</i> 3<i>s.</i>, and the rest went for wine, programmes, and -odds and ends generally. The dance was certainly most successful, and -went off very well, and was quite as much as we could afford. Naturally -I should have preferred much grander doings—a first-rate supper, the -‘Blue Hungarian’ band, or any other excellent one; but it would have -been foolish to refuse to entertain at all because we could not manage -these gorgeous details—details that were as much above our means as -they would have been quite unnecessary in Watford.</p> - -<p>But the dance was successful, because the girls were pretty and the men -pleasant, because old friends came down and rallied round us, and -because we all saw the girls did not sit down once, that there was no -flagging, and that all who could be introduced were made to know each -other. I dare say there were plenty of people who wondered they did not -have a gorgeous supper, but I do not care if they did, and I certainly -am never going to precipitate myself head first into the Bankruptcy -Court because someone<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a>{140}</span> else gives what, no doubt, they can well afford -to do, but which I could not, and which, were I to do, I should soon -come utterly to an end.</p> - -<p>I mention all these personal details to show that what we did can be -done by other people, certainly by people who have a big house and -plenty of servants, at a moderate cost, and I hope I shall not have -become a ‘mock of many’ because of all I have said; but as I always -think personal experience frankly given is worth any amount of polite -theory, I give my experience here as elsewhere, hoping that it may be of -use to many beside myself.</p> - -<p>If the damsel is born in the summer, I strongly advise a tennis-or -garden-party, though, alas! in this climate we are so dependent upon the -weather that I mention this with a certain amount of diffidence; but -given one of the lovely June days Nature sometimes kindly dowers us -with, and can anything on earth be pleasanter than one of these -al-fresco gatherings may be if properly managed?</p> - -<p>The garden is looking its best, and, if the seats are judiciously -arranged and a proper amount of amusement legislated for, the hostess -can greet her friends with a light heart; she can be quite sure of a -successful party without too much trouble or expense on her part.</p> - -<p>The refreshments should be either in a tent on the lawn or else in any -room that may open out into the garden. Should there be no such room, I -strongly advise the tent to be procured (one can always be borrowed at a -most reasonable expense), as, if the refreshments are not easily -accessible, the party becomes scattered: the timid do not like to -separate themselves and go in search of sustenance, while the greedy can -seclude themselves and snatch an undue share of the good things prepared -for the entire company.</p> - -<p>Given the tent, or the room, and we can proceed to place very long and -narrow tables there, which we should decorate with as many flowers as we -possibly can get together, and should we have very many Londoners coming -to our gathering we should put a host of the little baskets Whiteley -sells for about 4½<i>d.</i> a set under the tables, and fill them at parting -with what we garnished the tables with. Roses and lilies and greenery -are not to be despised in London, and our friends will come down to us -cheerfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a>{141}</span> another year if they carry away a sweetly-scented souvenir -of our last gathering. People don’t mind carrying flowers, and we can -always spare those we have used for garnishing the table.</p> - -<p>Among the flowers we should put large imari bowls of strawberries and -cream ready for ladling out on small dishes; the strawberries should be -denuded of their hulls, and the whipped cream, which can be thickened -with white of egg and made palatable with sugar, should be piled high on -the fruit, which, of course, should be unbroken. If a refrigerator is -handy, the prepared fruit should be kept there until the last moment, -and only produced when the guests have begun to assemble, the places for -the bowls being kept by plates to prevent the symmetry of the table -being spoiled by a careless or hurried maid-servant.</p> - -<p>I strongly advise all the cakes being bought from Buszard, who will, -moreover, tell you honestly the amount of the different kinds you should -have for the number you expect; and, as a rule, you should prepare for a -few more folks than you have down on your list. If a very fine day -people often bring friends with them. I personally like them to do this, -and if you yourself happen to know anyone who possesses little girls, -and who is coming herself, I advise you to ask her to bring the -children. Well-brought-up children are delightful additions to a -garden-party; they look like bright butterflies flitting about, and -should therefore be encouraged to come, not by a written invitation, -which would make them unduly prominent and of consequence in their own -eyes, but by a casual mention, which cannot inflate them, and yet will -show they have been thought about by us. Beside the fruit and cakes, a -little finely cut and rolled brown bread and butter should be prepared, -but only a little; few people eat it; as a rule it spoils their gloves, -and they do not want it, and it is wasted if left, and if the weather is -really summerlike and hot, ices should be provided, and also iced -lemonade, gingerbeer, and claret-cup. No other wine is requisite. And as -wine is frightfully dear, and should never be given unless really good, -I advise it being omitted altogether, unless expense is no object. When -the garden-party can be from 6 to 9.30 the garden could be illuminated -with coloured lamps, and a cold supper succeed the tea. This, of -course,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a>{142}</span> is the ideal garden-party, but one which is out of the reach of -most people who have a great many friends, and want to see them without -an undue and enormous expense.</p> - -<p>The tennis-courts, of course, should be swept and garnished and newly -marked out for the occasion, and several enthusiasts over this (to me, -idiotic) game should be told off to see that all who want to play can do -so. If this is not done, we shall be vexed by seeing this game, which is -so dear to so many, quite left alone; and I defy any hostess to attend -to her guests and keep the tennis-balls rolling at the same time. She -must engage the help of her younger guests, and to them must be left the -everlasting trouble of making up the sets, which seem to me to have only -just begun as they are finished. Now, in the dear departed days of -croquet, a hostess had nothing to do but make up the sets of eight and -set them going. She saw nothing more of her guests, a well-played set of -eight lasting quite as long as the garden-party itself could be expected -to do.</p> - -<p>Anyhow, there must be something beside tennis to amuse our guests, and I -think a band is almost a necessity, particularly if one is blessed with -a decent local band; then the expense will not be ruinous. One can get -an excellent string band from town for about 20<i>l.</i> I particularly like -Mrs. Hunt‘s ladies’ orchestra (<i>Les Merveilleuses</i>), all particulars of -which can be had from the secretary, or from Chappell & Co., New Bond -Street; but sometimes it is as well to encourage local talent if one can -do so without fatal effects, when for 5<i>l.</i> you can have a good deal of -music, always a cheerful matter, and can sometimes have very good music -too. But a local band should always be put a good way off, distance, as -a rule, lending an immense amount of enchantment to their productions.</p> - -<p>I think also that some of the charming open-air scenes from Shakespeare -can be given with great effect. I also am very fond of Mendelssohn’s -open-air glees; and some recitations are often amusing. But should these -latter be indulged in, let me beg that the hostess knows beforehand -something about them, else will her fate be what mine was once, when an -enthusiast began a long, long, long poem. I don’t know to this day what -it was, whether it was meant to be pathetic or comic or not, but I do -know my agonies were awful, and that I was rapidly going mad, when an -opportune<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a>{143}</span> shower put a stop to the eloquence, which had gone on -unceasingly through the passing of several express trains, all of which -made a hideous noise, and any one of which would have been sufficient to -daunt any other individual. Short, amusing—really amusing—recitations -are always a success, and I should taboo anything tragic or sentimental, -or anything which lasted over ten minutes at the outside.</p> - -<p>Never, however, be persuaded to give a garden-party trusting to tennis -alone. There can be nothing more dreary than such an entertainment; it -is like an at-home, where nothing but talk is provided. I would never -heap on amusements out of doors or have music without stopping in doors, -but I should always provide it in such a way that it serves as a -pleasant reason for the gathering. An in-door at-home with music can -never be a success if the seats are put in rows, and people are forced -to sit stiffly close together; an outdoor one can never pass off well -unless we prepare amusements, and see that our guests are really -entertained and yet not overburdened with our attentions.</p> - -<p>I think a whole chapter might be written on the art of being a hostess; -and yet, perhaps, a few words may suffice. I believe a hostess, like a -poet, is born, not made. Still, a few hints may not be out of place, for -I think sometimes parties are unsuccessful because, though possessed of -the best intentions, the hostess may lack the knowledge that alone can -ensure a successful entertainment.</p> - -<p>In the first place, without emulating two friends of mine, one of whom -took the youngest unmarried girl in the room down to dinner, while the -other, out of pure kindness, let his wife walk in first and then -followed himself, and in consequence was hugely laughed at. I do think -that in ordinary society a great deal of ridiculous fuss is made about -precedence. What can it matter to the wife of some man knighted but the -other day whether she or the wife of the parson goes into or out of the -room first? If it does, she must be so stupid that I should not care to -see her in my house; while to me it does matter immensely whether I have -someone to take me in who knows what is going on in the world and reads -his newspaper and sees every play that comes out. Give me a man like -that, and I don’t in the least care what his father was, neither should -I care one bit whether Jones<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a>{144}</span> and Mrs. Smith, and Mr. Smith and Mrs. -Brown, walked in or out of the room before me; they may all go, if they -like, in a string. So long as I have a pleasant companion and a pretty -table to look at, and a well-cooked dinner, I don’t care in the least -how I reach the dining-room.</p> - -<p>See that the people who are likely to get on have an opportunity of -knowing each other; watch that no one is sitting glum and disconsolate -in a corner; remember, if you can, who is anxious to be introduced to or -shown any celebrities in the world of art and letters who may happen to -be present; and, above all, consider everyone’s pleasure before you -think of your own; and in a large gathering never sit down until you are -actually driven to do so through fatigue, and you may be quite sure that -the party will be a success. And send out your invitations, remembering -that the pleasantest people are not always those who can afford to ask -you again, and that your object in entertaining is above all to give -pleasure, to see clever and entertaining, people in your house, and not -to ensure a return as soon as may be for what you are doing. I do not -care if people are the highest in the land if they are dull; I would far -rather meet and know people who are clever and interesting than the most -exalted member of the peerage I could number among my acquaintances if -she were stupid and uninteresting, and had nothing to recommend her but -her coronet and her connection with what Jeames de la Pluche calls the -‘hupper suckles.’</p> - -<p>I think that I have now given some idea how to ensure success at the two -kinds of parties which might be used as means of introducing a daughter -to the world at large; but, of course, there are a great many other -gatherings which may be indulged in, and, above all, let us learn always -to be ready to give a welcome to any of the children’s friends. Should -we discover that they are not nice we can easily speak about it, and -tell our reasons for not receiving them; but well-brought-up young -people will only make nice friends, and we must invariably be ready to -give them a cheerful welcome. We can always be glad to see them after -dinner, or to afternoon tea. This cannot ruin us, and when possible we -should let them stay in the house and encourage them all we can. At the -same time the rules of the house must be kept; the hours for meals and -the general habits of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a>{145}</span> elders respected; and we must not be expected -to help in the entertaining—that must be left entirely to the younger -members of the household, whose friends they are.</p> - -<p>Perhaps one of the greatest problems, after we have settled on our -manner of entertainment, is to determine how the girls shall dress and -in what manner they shall manage their dress allowance. This should be -made to them and paid punctually from their eighteenth birthday, but it -should never be made without starting a girl with a good and sufficient -wardrobe, with a miniature trousseau in fact; if this is not done, -unless, of course, the allowance is a very handsome one, the girl will -get hopelessly into debt, and will never be free from that millstone all -her life.</p> - -<p>Dress is, unfortunately, so frightfully expensive nowadays that the -problem of how to dress at all, always a serious one, has assumed -gigantic proportions of late years. We went out immensely in our youth, -and had 50<i>l.</i> a year allowed us, which we just scraped through on, -although I remember how anxiously I watched the sleeves of one special -grenadine dress, which I could not have afforded to replace anyhow, and -which would wear out in the most agonising way, and which was one mass -of darns before I could get another, and I have never forgotten the -anxiety it gave me, to say nothing of under-garments, which really -seemed to vanish perceptibly, bit by bit, after each visit to the -laundress; but nowadays girls cannot go out very much and appear well -dressed on double that sum. Even with 100<i>l.</i> a year there would have to -be cutting and contriving, and a good sewing-maid would be an imperative -necessity should there be really very many balls every year and -afternoon and evening dresses to be seen after besides.</p> - -<p>Of course, if not more than 50<i>l.</i> can be spared to each girl, the -attendance at balls must be limited, and a great deal of sewing must be -done by the damsel herself. But I never recommend anyone to go to a -cheap or common dressmaker; if she does, her garments will never look -nice, and she will spend three times as much as she need on renovations -and alterations, while she will run every imaginable risk of having her -stuff spoiled and the dress made so badly that she cannot wear it.</p> - -<p>Supposing the girl is to begin with her allowance of 50<i>l.</i>, her -trousseau should consist of a dozen of each under-garments<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a>{146}</span> necessary; -she should have six pairs of silk, six of fine cashmere, and six of -warmer cashmere hose; she should have four white skirts, a silk -underskirt, and a quilted poplin skirt; she should have two morning -dresses, one a good tailor-made one with a jacket to match, the other -cashmere; she should have two best dresses, one for every evening, one -for dances, and two for balls; and she should have a sealskin coat, a -waterproof, and a jacket, and about three hats; she should have four -pairs of boots and four pairs of shoes; and she should remember that the -longer these are kept in stock before they are worn the better, and one -pair of shoes should never be taken into regular wear without another -being purchased to take its place. Cheap shoes and boots should never be -bought under any pretext whatever; they wear out at once, are a hideous -shape always, and are dangerously thin, things which should prevent -their being in any girl’s wardrobe.</p> - -<p>I am often struck, particularly in crowds or in large gatherings, at the -perfectly frightful clothes most English women wear, and I have come to -the conclusion that this fact is caused by the extraordinary fondness -they seem to have for any kind of black mantle or jacket on which they -can lay their hands, and by a habit they have of crowning their heads -with any sort of hat or bonnet that may be in the fashion at the moment, -no matter whether it suits them or not, or whether they have anything -else in their possession with which it can be worn.</p> - -<p>The tan jackets which have been so fashionable lately have in some -measure emancipated the girls from the tyranny of the black cape; but I -do wish all who dress at all would do so much more sensibly than they do -now, and would never buy a single thing without carefully reviewing -their wardrobe first, and then purchasing the addition equally -carefully, not because it is ‘lovely’ or the ‘height of the fashion,’ -but because it suits the wearer, and above all suits what she already -possesses. She must never enter a shop without knowing first of all what -she really does require, and she must never allow herself to be talked -out of her own preconceived ideas; if she does she is sure to find -herself saddled with some utterly unwearable garment, and which, -moreover, matches nothing she already has in her possession. A girl -should be carefully taught what is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a>{147}</span> likely to suit her, and she should, -moreover, be carefully instructed how to manage her wardrobe so that her -things may be in some measure <i>en suite</i>. For example, should she -possess a sealskin jacket, which she should if in any way possible—a -capital little coat costs about 12<i>l.</i> to 15<i>l.</i>, and wears ten winters -comfortably, and can be used afterwards as linings—her winter morning -dress might be some soft brown cashmere; she could vary this by having -two or three soft silk handkerchiefs as waistcoats in the pretty -prevailing fashion of the day, and could have a dark brown, a deep -yellow, or a pale pink one. This dress would look well with the -sealskin, or with a tan jacket should the weather be too warm for the -former, and the hat should be brown or else dark blue with brown -feathers in; this would allow of the second dress being powder or -gendarme blue; this could be trimmed with bands of sealskin or soft -brown silk, and here would be every-day garments to don in October and -wear off and on until the first few warm days in May turn our thoughts -to new and lighter clothes. A best hat should always be in stock; but -this must harmonise with what she already has in the way of dresses. -These must be good; the two will then, with the help of a judicious -maid, come out again in the following autumn as very good every-day -dresses and dresses for wet Sundays, and all that will be required is an -afternoon party dress, which can also be worn on fine Sundays to church -and for afternoon wear, should Sunday callers be allowed and encouraged -in the manner I trust they are.</p> - -<p>Summer dresses are where the strain comes on our resources, and where -the clever maid comes in so well. One can buy a print costume unmade for -about 18<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, but made up in London it costs about 3<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> to -4<i>l.</i>; I have never seen a decently made one under this price. The maid -should suffice for these costumes, the simple banded Norfolk bodice -being easily managed, as can some of the looser bodices; and great care -should be taken to purchase about three yards more of the print than is -absolutely needed. Print dresses in our wretched climate generally last -two seasons, and, as they generally shrink in the wash, it is wise to -provide ourselves with material for new sleeves or new fronts; it can be -washed before being used to ensure that no appearance of patching is -given by the new unfaded<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a>{148}</span> material being placed against that which must -have faded a little during the last wear. We have discovered in Stafford -(rather ‘a far cry,’ as the Scots would say) a capital dressmaker who, -for absolutely reasonable prices, makes charming print dresses for -45<i>s.</i> and excellent material dresses for girls for about 75<i>s.</i> I know -these wear because we have tried them often and often, and, indeed, my -daughter gets all her morning dresses there. I shall not publish her -name, because I do not want her to be inundated with work or raise her -prices, but if she can manage to do this—and naturally it must pay her -to do so—why can’t London dressmakers do the same? I pause for a reply, -and in the meantime meditate ruefully on the different prices I have to -pay for my garments to those charged by the Stafford dressmaker.</p> - -<p>I have always believed that ladies properly instructed in this art of -dressmaking, and banded together, could make a comfortable living out of -providing the garments of their fortunate sisters who had not to work. -They would not make their fortunes, but they should do well if they do -not pitchfork themselves into the place because every other work they -have tried has failed, but take it because they have had an excellent -training and are really tasteful and capable of advising about, as well -as making, the clothes, which are such a burden and trouble to most of -us. Of course they would be invaluable to the girls with a limited -allowance; they would know what was worn, what would suit them and their -purses at the same time; and they would keep a staff of humbler sewers -who would renovate the garments it should be their pride and delight to -make the very utmost of; while to those like myself, for example, who -must have suitable and pretty dresses, and have not sufficient time to -obtain this desirable end without immense expense, they would be simply -invaluable, and we should be spared making the mistakes we are -constantly making, the while we should be sure that our advancing years -should receive due notice at their skilful hands, and that we should be -suitably as well as becomingly dressed, and that at a not undue expense.</p> - -<p>I should be very grateful to anyone who would start such an -establishment; she could charge for her advice plus the dress, as I -charge for my advice about furniture<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a>{149}</span> and household management, and I am -quite sure her establishment would soon be the centre of an admiring -throng of girl disciples, to say nothing of the elder women, who would -be thankful to be taken in hand, to be prevented from buying unbecoming -garments, or things which have nothing in common with the rest of their -possessions, and who could shop there in peace, knowing they would have -kindly counsel, instead of being assured lyingly by the saleswoman that -a perfectly unsuitable bonnet is the most becoming thing she has ever -seen, and that an ugly black mantle is so handsome that, given this, it -will act as charity and cover a multitude of sins in the shape of a -shabby dress; the real truth being that the gorgeous mantle only -accentuates the shabbiness, and, by adding another to the rank of the -black mantle wearers, gives another evidence of the fact that, as a -rule, Englishwomen in the street are the worst-dressed women in the -world.</p> - -<p>To really dress well costs an immense amount of money, for to ensure -correct and pleasing dress it is absolutely necessary that all things -shall match in some measure—mantle, dress, bonnet, and hose must be <i>en -suite</i>; but if we cannot afford to go in for this we should restrict -ourselves to one or two colours at the outside, we should never buy -anything which is at the height of fashion, and, above all, we should -wear our clothes carefully, and we should not disdain to see they are -put away in an absolutely spotless condition, with each atom of dust and -dirt removed, every small necessary mending done, and with soft paper -between the folds. Unless we have this religiously seen to the -handsomest dress soon becomes draggle-tailed and shabby, while a cheap -or inferior material wears three times as long as it otherwise would do -if we see it is treated properly.</p> - -<p>But cheap or flimsy materials should never, under any circumstances, be -bought, unless the girls can make them up themselves, to wear at home -evenings or during the summer, or unless the sewing-maid can do them; -the making and trimming cost three times as much as the stuff, which -hardly looks nice for three days, while good material pays for good -making and wears until one is really tired of being in the same garment. -When that feeling comes to us we should lay the dress aside for some -months and then take it out again; the rest actually seems to have done -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a>{150}</span> garment good, and we wear it again with pleasure, instead of -putting it on each morning with renewed dislike and distaste, as we did -before we put it into the wardrobe for the short retirement we advise.</p> - -<p>If matrons over forty-five cannot afford to spend very much on their -garments, I do most strongly advise them to keep to black and very dark -shades of greens and reds; these, however, should be left absolutely -alone should there be any tendency to <i>embonpoint</i>, then black must be -<i>de rigueur</i>. This seems a little hard, and of course black is to a -certain extent uninteresting wear; but we can console ourselves for the -fate to which all must come by knowing that we are suitably attired, and -that, at all events, we are not making ourselves ridiculous by vying -with our daughters about our clothes.</p> - -<p>Women are the age they look. I know some of the above-named age who do -not look a day more than thirty-five, and they therefore should dress as -they please. But the moment age begins to show let us calmly acknowledge -that our pretty days are over, and garb ourselves accordingly. We need -not be dowdy in these days. Black and dark raiment generally can be made -as nice as possible and quite festive-looking; but we should be suitably -dressed, and, after all, we don’t want either admiration or attention -then from the outside world; we are sure of both at home if we rule -rightly and are queen of the only kingdom that is worth having—the -beautiful kingdom of Home.</p> - -<p>What does anything else matter, if we are still looked upon by our -husbands with as much pleasure and admiration as they gave us in those -never-to-be-forgotten days of courtship, and if our children consider us -nicer, kinder, and wiser than anyone else? To obtain such applause is -worth the whole struggle of living to preserve it—any amount of trouble -which we can possibly take. Therefore, let all costume themselves -suitably—the girl in the prettiest frocks she can possibly afford; the -matron quietly, becomingly, and richly; and, above all, let all consider -carefully the matching that I so strongly advocate, and let the girl who -begins her allowance always keep most correct accounts, showing these -and her paid bills when the next quarter is paid, and let her never be -too proud to ask her mother’s assistance, especially if she cannot see -her way to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a>{151}</span> both ends meet; but never pass over a debt, and let her -see you notice all she spends. It may seem a little inquisitorial, it -will really save her endless care and worry if you prevent her in any -way you can from getting into a habit of forestalling her income—a -habit that, once formed, is one that hardly anyone ever shakes off in -after life, try how one will.</p> - -<p>The ball-dresses are the garments which try a girl more than anything, -the tulle skirts and pretty flounces, which cost so much, getting so -soon spoiled and messed; and I think the stock of the first season’s -dresses must be helped considerably by the parents, else will the poor -girl feel herself worse dressed than anyone else; and that is a small -misery that should never be allowed if in any measure it can be avoided. -The years from eighteen to twenty-one are undoubtedly the most joyous of -any a woman ever has. They are not always the happiest, taking our -standard of happiness very high, but they are the brightest, sunniest, -and most amusing that the average girl will ever have, more especially -if she have been carefully brought up in a good atmosphere and be not -tormented with those uncomfortable religious doubts and miserable -hankerings after a career and after reforming the world we some of us -had such a severe attack of at that age. I personally would not be -eighteen again for all the wealth of the Indies. Then, I thought it -extremely grand to believe in nothing, to have a gloomy satisfaction in -my superior mind, which soared above the old beliefs, and formed a misty -religion of my own, which meant nothing and led nowhere, and to indulge -in dreadful sarcasms—mentally only (I am thankful to say I did not -often utter them)—on the worldly wisdom of those folks who naturally -wished their daughters to marry well and turned cold shoulders on the -poorest and generally most undeserving of suitors, and I used to stay up -until the small hours of the morning (although I was dreadfully sleepy) -inditing the most awful verses against the rich and titled folks, whom I -naturally thought were fattening on the poor and miserable, and to whom -I intended to go on a species of socialistic crusade; and finally in -writing a big novel, which used to make me feel very much more -intellectual than most of the people I mixed with, and which, after an -evening spent among the brightest and first intellects in the world, I -used to contemplate<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a>{152}</span> savagely, having been made to feel very small, -though I would have died rather than confess such a thing—a feeling I -did not mean ever to experience again, once that <i>magnum opus</i> was given -to the world and people really knew me for the genius I was. Alas! that -recognition has never come yet; still, I am very happy without it, and -am always doubly thankful my days of craving for worldwide fame have -vanished, and that I neither want that nor to believe in anything any -more.</p> - -<p>I hope, however, there are not many girls as silly as I was then, and as -I dare say I should have continued to be had I not married—I, who -scorned the idea of the ordinary British matron, and regarded children -and household cares with bitter disgust. And during the twenty years I -have been a wife, I am always struck with wonder when I remember the -imaginative, impulsive thing that was myself so long ago, and try to -trace in my present self the miserable, ambitious cynic I fondly hoped -was some day going to set the world on fire and blossom out as a new -Thackeray or Dickens. Nothing feminine was good enough for me; I meant -to beat the men or do nothing at all.</p> - -<p>Such a girlhood as that may be of infinite service, and was, but it -cannot be called a happy one; still, I think I was the exception, not -the rule, therefore I ask that all who can possibly manage it will see -their girls are happy as long as they are young; to give them their -allowance because they should learn how to spend money, but to add a -dress here and there, an ornament, a new trimming judiciously if in any -way you can afford it, and go without yourself rather than allow a girl -to be shabby or worry herself to death over a wearing-out garment; at -the same time let her learn to do her own repairs and have lessons in -dressmaking; make her happy, but at the same time let her help herself -to the desired end. I hope there may never be too many daughters in the -family for this allowance of 50<i>l.</i> to be an impossibility; no girl can -dress really on less. If there are, she <i>must</i> be taught early to make -her own garments, and she must learn, furthermore, that she must spend -far more time and thought over her clothes than is good for her, should -the allowance be much less, and should she be obliged to go out into -society a good deal. As I stated at first, I am not now writing for the -young beginners,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a>{153}</span> but for those whose children are growing up, and who -have made and are making a good income; I therefore trust that what I -have said about dress will be taken only by those for whom it is -intended, the Angelina of ‘From Kitchen to Garret,’ poor dear, having -often enough to do without much that she would have thought -indispensable in the old days.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /><br /> -<small>CHRISTENINGS AND WEDDINGS.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">There</span> is a great deal to consider, apart from the mere arrangement of -the ceremonies, about the events of which I mean to speak in this -chapter, therefore no book devoted to the interests of the home could be -complete without at least some words on both subjects.</p> - -<p>To begin with: the old story of the bad fairy told us in our childhood, -who invariably was forgotten, and as invariably turned up without an -invitation at the christening of the prince or princess, is not as -improbable as it appeared to be on the first reading. The bad fairy may -be an infuriated relative to whom we have forgotten to write; it may be -family pride outraged by the name chosen for the infant; or it may take -the form of having asked the wrong instead of the right individual to -stand for the child; but all too often it is there, and the heedless -conduct that raised the evil fairy from her sleep may bring about -consequences that are as unpleasant as they are certainly unexpected and -generally undeserved, for I have often observed that the deepest insults -are those we are most unconscious of giving, and that the evil habit of -‘taking offence’ is often increased by conduct that was as innocent in -design as it was certainly disastrous in the effect.</p> - -<p>And now let us pause for a moment and speak on the subject of taking -offence, a matter that has given rise to endless family divisions and -caused more broken friendships and quarrels than anything else in the -world. To begin with: it is a sign of a common, jealous, vain nature to -take offence; it shows that the offended person is so endued<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a>{154}</span> with a -sense of her own importance that she is always on the look-out for an -affront, that she has such a low idea of human nature that she is -suspicious of everything that happens, and is always expecting some slur -is being cast on her, some dreadful plot against her dignity is being -hatched; and she is so vain that she thinks everything that happens is -especially levied at her, though generally she was as far from the -thoughts of the offending person as she well could be.</p> - -<p>A family possessing such a touchy member is indeed much to be pitied; -one can see nothing or very little of any acquaintance possessed of such -a disposition, and indeed no one would wish to see such a one more than -one can help; but a member of the family must be considered in some way; -therefore such an individual is all too often the bad fairy, who, having -once received or fancied she received an insult, never forgets it, harps -on it always, and ends by doing immeasurable harm in more ways than one -by her disagreeable and untutored tongue. And notice I say <i>she</i> and -her. I don’t consider we can learn much from men, but we can certainly -learn larger-mindedness from them; for very seldom do we find a man -taking offence in the childish and touchy fashion far too many women are -so fond of doing.</p> - -<p>As a rule we are all too busy to soften the aspirations of such an -individual, and so we drift apart without any distinct quarrel, -gradually seeing less and less of each other, until we do not meet at -all; but it is generally well, if we possibly can, to go straight to -anyone like this and find out the cause of offence, at the same time -refraining from doing so unless we care very much about it, because, ten -chances to one, the person who takes offence once will always be doing -so, and it is not worth one’s while, as a rule, to conciliate those who -will find a subject for offence in everything one says and does, unless -one is always flattering them, an easily offended person having the most -ravenous appetite for flattery possible to conceive. Therefore, when a -christening has to be thought about, we should first consider if there -be any Scylla to avoid, any Charybdis past which we must navigate the -boat, and, above all, must we endeavour to be quite independent about -the most important subject of all—viz. how to name the child.</p> - -<p>I do not go quite as far as does a friend of mine, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a>{155}</span> considers the -names he gives his children act on their nature, and that they -insensibly form their characters to in some measure sympathise with -their baptismal names. Thus, for example, it would be as impossible for -John to be naughty as for Jack to be anything save a pickle, for Edith -to be anything save calm and religious, while Trixy must be a flirt and -set all her lovers by the ears. But still I do think a great deal -depends upon the name, especially if the surname happens to be rather -uncommon or pretty, and that the judicious selection of well-sounding -names does wonders. But here we must steer between plain John Brown, who -could never be anyone, try as hard as he might, and the Reginald de -Montmorency Brown, which is the laughing-stock of the neighbours, and -which is a grief to the unfortunate holder thereof through life, unless -the possession of such a name forces him to become as ridiculous as it -is itself; then, of course, he is quite happy, and we need not pity him -at all.</p> - -<p>Another thing I do most earnestly deprecate is the perpetuating of -family names, unless the name happens to be a pretty one and is chosen -for itself. In the first place, family names are generally hideous, and -in the second we cannot name the child after all the members of both -families; to give precedence to the father’s family names will offend -the mother’s family, and generally the unfortunate infant is not only -saddled with a hideous name, but finds itself a bone of contention -almost before it has any bones at all; while, if we boldly select the -names which seem to us euphonious and to harmonise with the surname, we -shall offend no one, and shall show we have an individuality that must -be respected by the members of both families alike.</p> - -<p>Then, too, if families are large and have endless branches, great -confusion is caused by each separate Paterfamilias having one of these -names among his flock. Cousins very often stay in the same house, and -come to visit each other, and if there are ten Miss Elizabeth Smiths and -these happen to be staying together, how are their letters to be -distinguished? The possession of similar initials in families has made -mischief enough; the possession of similar names can make twice as much -again.</p> - -<p>In naming a boy we must think whether he can be made miserable at school -by having either a grand or girlish<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a>{156}</span> name, which the young fiends, his -schoolfellows, can turn into something to his disadvantage, and, if -possible, the younger sons should always have some good surname before -the family name; this will enable them to keep distinct. For example, if -the eldest son is called Charles Robinson (not that I should call any -boy such a frightful name), his next brother can be called John Smith -Robinson (supposing his mother’s name to have been Smith), while the -third could be William Brown Robinson, thus marking the distinct -families at once, and allowing the sons of the holders of these names to -have the double name, and perhaps the aristocratic hyphen, satirised by -Corney Grain, which is so dear to the heart of the ordinary suburban -resident, while it is not a bad plan to give the girls their surname as -well as a pretty Christian-name at baptism. This would allow people to -trace pedigrees easily were it a universal custom, and would be of great -assistance in writing the family history we ought one and all of us to -possess, for it is astonishing how much we are helped in our attempt to -bring up our children if we have any knowledge of our forbears, and can -trace in any way the habits and occupations of those from whom we have -sprung.</p> - -<p>Having settled on the child’s name and registered it before we tell our -relations and friends, the impossibility of making a change saving -endless painful and unprofitable discussions, the next thing is to -decide on the god-parents. As a rule this is a mere form, but of course -it should not be so. A god-parent necessarily sends a more or less -handsome present at the time of the christening, comes to the ceremony -if he or she can, and then forgets all about the child. But this, I -repeat, should never be. The god-parents should keep up a friendly -intercourse with their god-children; they should know where they are, -what they are doing; they should most undoubtedly be present at the -confirmation ceremony, and they should always at Christmas either write -to their god-children, send one of those useful and pretty cards, which -I trust will never go out of fashion, or else give some little gift that -does not cost much, while it makes the link between them very real, and -gives some meaning to a position that at present would often be more -honoured in the breach than in the observance.</p> - -<p>Of course it is easy enough to manage this in one’s own<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a>{157}</span> rank of life, -and we ought to have as many god-children as we can honestly interest -ourselves in; but we should never undertake the office unless we mean to -perform the duties; and we ought occasionally to ‘stand for’ some of our -poorer neighbours’ children. As a rule they are delighted to have us, -and it gives us a hold over them we could not otherwise acquire; while a -boy or a girl has always a sense of obligation to behave better and do -better in life if he or she has a god-parent in a higher station than -his or her own, to whom they can come for advice and help by right, and -from whom they receive at Christmas, at confirmation, or at any -important step in life, some trifling token. Therefore I do not think -god-parents can think too much of their duties, or neglect to stand for -all they can manage to look after; it is something to do—something that -can also do endless good, if we undertake the duties properly.</p> - -<p>When the god-parents are chosen the christening-day should be fixed, and -this should be the very first day that the mother and child can go out -of doors. The clergyman who performs all the family services should be -asked of course, and the time selected should be about the middle of the -day, and, if possible, the font should be nicely decorated with white -flowers. Of course the correct thing would be to have a public service -with the congregation; the church always looks dismal and horrid when -empty, and, according to the rubric, the service should be public; but I -should never advise this. In the first place, the mother is never quite -strong enough to stand the long service; and, in the second, babies do -howl so that the congregation is made miserable, and, therefore, what is -really an excellent theory is a practice to be avoided. Unless the -christening is postponed, a thing I cannot contemplate for one moment, a -child’s first outing should be to church; there is no doubt whatever in -my own mind about that.</p> - -<p>Take this for granted, and half the misery of a christening disappears; -never allow it to be postponed, and it is done as a matter of course. If -the god-parents selected cannot be present, they must be represented by -proxy; and they should never be waited for, any more than they should be -chosen for any reason save that we are fond of them, that they are -related to us, or such friends that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a>{158}</span> know they would do the best they -could for us were we to die and leave the children to the mercy of the -world at large—as regards their mental welfare, I don’t mean their -bodily. I repeat here, that no one has the smallest right to bring a -child into the world for whose existence he cannot in some measure duly -provide.</p> - -<p>Without emulating the Roman Catholic habit of confession, I much like to -feel that each family possesses some clergyman among its friends, who -stands to it in some measure in the position that a Romish priest does -to many households. The finer ceremonies of life and death should be -conducted by one man; and it is always a great pleasure to me to feel -that he who married us christened all our children, while it is as great -a regret that he cannot any more perform any more ceremonies for us, for -he has gone where ceremonies are of no avail, and where he has, no -doubt, already received his reward. However, though none can take his -place, we have still a ‘family priest;’ and I think all the simple -ceremonies of our Church are made a thousand times holier by the fact -that one man performs them, and that he takes that individual interest -in us no strange clergyman ever can. Let anyone see a christening in a -town church, hastily performed by a man to whom the infant is nothing -but an unpleasant lump of lace and fussy clothes, or at best one more -little soldier for the great army, and the same ceremony performed by a -man who knows and loves the parents, and I shall need no more words if -this does not express all I mean. Let my readers note the conduct of any -cemetery chaplain reading the burial service, with which custom has made -him hideously familiar, and then hear someone who has known and loved -the dead read it; I am sure, after that, I need not plead for the -election in each family of some good man as family priest. He is a -comfort, indeed, with whom no one can afford to dispense, even in this -hurrying, fashionable life of ours.</p> - -<p>When the church and all is settled, the baby’s dress is undoubtedly a -matter for great consideration. In some families grandmamma produces the -robe the child’s father was christened in, and of course that, and -nothing else, should be worn. Of course, equally, high neck and sleeves -should be added, and a little flannel bodice can be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a>{159}</span> placed with -advantage under the fine open-neck bodice of the robe; white ribbons -should tie up the sleeves and be placed under the waist, and the cloak -should not be either heavy or unduly gorgeous. The hood and cloak must -be removed in the church, and the nurse should do this quickly and -silently the moment the ceremony begins, placing a big, soft shawl round -the child; this allows it to become quiet, and does not ensure the roar -which invariably follows if the child is handed to the clergyman the -moment its clothes are taken off. It should be rolled in the shawl until -the christening service is over, then it can be dressed and shriek if it -likes; no one but the nurse will be disturbed by its howling then.</p> - -<p>Baptism is a sacrament, and therefore there are no fees to be given to -the clergyman, but the father goes into the vestry to give particulars -about the name, &c., for registration in the church books, and he should -then make the clerk some small present—5<i>s.</i> would be ample for most -middle-class families, while 1<i>l.</i> would be princely. If the clergyman -has come some distance one should take care he was no loser by it, -delicately and nicely, and if one is rich some present should be given -to the church itself to mark the ceremony; there is always something a -church lacks that we can give without ruining ourselves; in fact, all -these simple ceremonies should teach us to love the Church with the -singular attachment even Dissenters have for it, and should make us more -to each other as a congregation than we otherwise would be had we no -religion to bind us together. The christening over, the baby should be -taken, according to a dear old Yorkshire superstition, to be shown to -some friend who will give it bread, salt, sixpence, and a new-laid egg; -and if this superstition be respected, and, moreover, if the infant be -taken up in the world before it is taken down (<i>i.e.</i> carried upstairs -before it goes down), my old nurse used to declare that it must be lucky -and could defy any amount of bad fortune. She invariably climbed by a -stool up to a high settee with our children because our house had not a -third story, and much she used to amuse us with these small vagaries; -they were a matter of real moment to her, and we indulged her. Why not? -If they did no good they most certainly could do no earthly harm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a>{160}</span></p> - -<p>Now, before we pass on from the christening ceremony to speak of -weddings—a much more enthralling subject—I want to say one word on the -matter of family gatherings. I know quite well I am venturing almost on -forbidden ground, and that such an idea as a family party is beneath -contempt in these days, when we want nothing but amusement, and dislike -running the chance of being bored more than anything else. Still, I am -going to speak about them, and I trust that I may show that they are not -only unobjectionable if properly managed, but that they are absolutely -necessary if we are to keep up anything like a good feeling amongst the -members of one family.</p> - -<p>The reasons why, as a rule, families separate and fall apart are, first -of all, because some go up while others remain stationary, and others -creep slowly down the hill; and, secondly, because there are none of the -small civilities and amenities of life practised among relations that -render society possible and pleasing. If a sister thinks another -sister’s conduct is not just what it ought to be she tells her so, -without considering that she has no more business to take her to task -than she has to call on and scold her next-door neighbour; they frankly -discuss the manner in which the respective children are brought up, and, -indeed, often make themselves so interfering and disagreeable that the -family party ends in tears and in mutual vows against any attempt at the -same thing again.</p> - -<p>Now, as regards the first offence, it is one we ought to be able to bear -with equanimity, especially if we are remaining stationary while others -are flourishing on a plain above our heads. In the first place, the -honour and success of the one member is the property of all, and we can -glory in it too, while, if we are at the top of the tree, no one will -envy us that position if they share it in some measure, and if we take -care that they are not hurt by our assuming airs that are as ridiculous -as they are unkind. A man who forgets and ignores his poor relations is -a snob, and is invariably laughed at by those who know of their -existence; while if he never forgets them, and is good to them always, -he reaps a reward no one can deprive him of in the tender affection, -pride in his attainments, and unselfish delight in his success, which -would be turned to gall and wormwood were he to turn his back on and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a>{161}</span> -ignore those whose flesh and blood he shares, and who must always be his -relations, try how he may to shift them off his shoulders entirely.</p> - -<p>Give this feeling, and I maintain that we can have family parties which -are quite successful, more especially if we remember the second pitfall -and refrain from these hideously spiteful remarks some families seem to -regard in the light of indispensable tonics; and we should always try -that our simple ceremonies of christenings, birthdays, Christmas, and -weddings should include all those of our immediate kin who are near -enough to share them. Let all be asked, let them see you are glad to see -them, and give them your best (not your second best, please), and I am -quite sure the family party will be as successful as any other you may -be induced to give. Of course the party need not be all family; a -judicious admixture of outsiders is always to be recommended, more -especially if we are at the top of the tree and can take this -opportunity of introducing some of our ‘best’ people to those who are -pleased to meet them, although their present means may not allow of -their entertaining them in their own houses in the same manner that we -can.</p> - -<p>These differences cannot be helped, and indeed they should be a source -of pleasure to all, as I said before, and undoubtedly would be were -family feeling cultivated among us in a manner that it certainly is not -in most English homes. Therefore all these ceremonies should be made an -occasion for family parties, and at Christmas time, too, all should meet -who can, at the house of the eldest of the family, should the father and -mother be unable to have their gathering or be dead, as is so often the -case; and there should be regular preparations for enjoyment, a -‘surprise’ (my annual surprise considerably shortens my life), a -Christmas tree, games, and a good supper, all mapped out just as if we -expected the greatest strangers and wished to impress them with our -forms of hospitality. Take rather more pains about the arrangements and -details of a family party than any other; I am quite sure that if you do -you will be amply rewarded.</p> - -<p>And now to think about weddings and marriages, generally a most -enthralling subject to fathers and mothers when the children have grown -up and they begin to contemplate<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a>{162}</span> the idea of their leaving the fireside -for homes of their own, when begins, I think, the most difficult period -of our life, and when we cannot be too careful whom we admit to our -houses, the while we must not be unduly fussy, else we spoil our -children’s chance of happiness, and make them miserably anxious for -themselves and their possible fate—a fate I would postpone for ever if -I had my way, for who can calmly contemplate passing on one’s daughter -to another’s care, I wonder? while one’s possible daughters-in-law can -never be anything, I fear, save successful rivals to the throne one -occupies in one‘s boys’ hearts.</p> - -<p>But these things will happen, and equally of course all girls should -marry, a happy marriage being the best fate for any woman, no matter how -cultivated, how talented she may be. I have no doubts whatever on that -subject. Suppose she writes; who so fit to battle with the publisher as -the husband? or she paints; well, he can smile on the critics and -undermine them with a good cigar and all the rest of it. Or does she -sing? Surely, surely the husband’s protection comes in there more than -ever; while for those lucky women who only want to fulfil their destiny -and make a home, the husband of course takes his right position at once, -and is guardian, bread-winner, and head in a way that Nature intended -him to be, and that all real women want him to be. The few who clamour -for another arrangement don’t understand the subject at all, and are as -ridiculous as they are abnormal and few in number, and therefore need -not be considered in the least. There is, therefore, no doubt that women -should marry if they can; and if not, well, there is plenty for them to -do, although they will never be as happy—I am sure of that—as the -happily married woman; neither will they ever suffer as an unhappily -married woman must, albeit very many unhappy marriages would have been -far otherwise had people had common sense at first and married each -other as what they were, and not what they supposed each other to be; -resenting their own mistakes on the unfortunate object they had deified, -and not on their own stupid selves, while of course they should be -resolved to make the best of what was inevitable, and to really make the -wife or husband become all they had imagined him or her to be.</p> - -<p>When the discussion on the subject of ‘marriage being a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a>{163}</span> failure’ was -going forward I was only deterred from joining in the fray by the -knowledge that my indignant feelings on this subject were so strong they -rendered me incoherent; but I was glad I did not, for no one could have -driven sense into the heads of a good many of the silly women who wrote -rubbish about their woes. Of course there are unhappy marriages, plenty -of them, made worse, to my mind, a thousand times by our present -disgracefully easy divorce laws; but, trace them to the beginning, and I -venture to state that one and all of these marriages would have been -happy had the parties to them been properly brought up, and, above all, -properly told what marriage really means, not only to themselves, but to -those who may very probably come after them. Not one girl who marries -but knows that the man by whose side she stands at the altar is not only -her lover, but the possible father of her children; and yet what mother -would not consider herself simply dreadful were she to say this to her -daughter when the proposal is made, and her fate is yet in abeyance? and -yet what more important matter could be spoken of? I think none. A girl -who marries a man—an old man—for his money, even from the very highest -possible motives—from the idea, may be, that she is not only ensuring -the safety of her own future but that of many who may be near and dear -to her—is committing not only a crime against herself and her own -future, but is ensuring that the faults, sins, and selfishnesses of the -man she marries are passed on to endless generations; and where such a -marriage is contemplated I maintain that a mother has an imperative duty -before her, and that she must tell her daughter straight out, that the -sufferings she must endure in her own person in daily contact with her -future husband will not be a tithe of what will come upon her when she -begins to recognise his sins and his evil ways reappearing in those -children who may come to her, and who will bring their own retribution -with them; be sure of that.</p> - -<p>It is a priceless boon to know that one inherits a right and a duty to -be good in the broadest sense of the word. I personally do not care one -fig what a man’s trade or worldly position is so long as he is -absolutely honest and trustworthy, and would not act or speak an -untruth; and this is the sort of inheritance we should strive to hand -on<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a>{164}</span> to our children. The higher the station the more should be the -endeavour to live in such a way that our example may be valued; but, -whatever the station, let us remember that there is always some one -influenced by us, and that we have obligations to them which we must -consider if we want to live a really good life.</p> - -<p>And one of the first things to think of is this question of marriage, -not only because of ourselves, but because of the children who may come -to us, and who must be thought of before we give our girls to men who -may make them ‘fairish’ husbands; perhaps may not ill-treat them or beat -them, but who are not possessed of sufficient individuality to be the -heads of their own houses, and who have not honest souls and some -ambitions above the mere ruck of living and making as much money as they -possibly can, not only because such men can never be the makers and -possessors of a home, but because they may leave children whose -weaknesses and wickednesses may not only break their mother’s heart, but -may make the world worse than they find it, one’s truest ambition being -to make the world, or one’s own special corner thereof, better than one -found it in some way or other.</p> - -<p>Young people naturally resent advice, and rarely, if ever, act upon it, -and we have all taken this to heart so much that some of us have ceased -to give advice at all. But this should not be so; the advice may not be -taken—that we cannot help—but it is our duty to give it, and I hope -all mothers will do so, whether their children act upon it or not. We -should not shirk a duty because we cannot see any effects; they may -appear even when we have long ceased to look for them.</p> - -<p>The sins of the fathers must be visited on the children; there is no -doubt about that. We need not argue about it; it is a fact that we all -have to acknowledge, and therefore there is no need to go into the -rights and wrongs of the matter, for no amount of argument will do away -with this inevitable truth; and equally, therefore, a woman should -choose not only a man she loves, but a man she respects, and one it -shall be her very greatest pride to know her children will resemble. She -will be spared endless suffering if she do, for there is no suffering on -earth like that caused by wicked children, or even by the anxieties -about<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a>{165}</span> weakly and suffering children; and she had better remain an old -maid all her life than bring upon herself the unspeakable wretchedness -of having children who are a constant source of anxiety to her because -of what they may, nay, of what they <i>must</i> inherit.</p> - -<p>Given a clean record, a stainless youth, a good constitution, and an -honest worker, and we need ask no more for our girls. It will not hurt -them to begin their new life on a much lower scale than that which they -have been accustomed to, more especially if we have taught them their -duty to themselves and their future. Then, if we know that the young -couple honestly love each other, we can feel content.</p> - -<p>And by love I do not mean blind, unreasoning passion, the mad, -extraordinary feeling that one reads about in novels, and which -generally lands one or the other in the Divorce Court, and of which I -have nothing to say, but I do mean that wonderful self-devotion to -another, the mutual respect and regard, and the absolute unselfishness, -that make up the true love that never fades, and that increases year by -year in those whose married life was based on such love as this, and -whose home reflects around the happiness which is centred there, and -which can only be procured by those who begin their life together on a -proper basis, and who do not expect to find in each other the god or -goddess of perfection, who would probably be as unpleasant to live with -as he or she is undoubtedly non-existent in this world of ours.</p> - -<p>Of course all this sounds fearfully prosaic, and is, no doubt, -middle-aged philosophy; but it would not be worth writing down if it -were not middle-aged, because it would be imagination only and not the -fruits of experience. I have lived a certain number of years, and I have -had large opportunities of observation, and I am certain of what I am -saying, that the truest marriages are those which are framed on respect -as well as love, and that those women are the happiest who can -implicitly trust and believe in the men to whom they have given -themselves in some measure body and soul; and that, furthermore, they -get the most out of life who take care every moment they live has -something to occupy it, and that that occupation benefits someone beside -their immediate selves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a>{166}</span></p> - -<p>I have often heard people say that the first year of their married life, -and indeed that the honeymoon itself, was the very dullest and most -difficult period of their whole lives; but I have always listened to -these statements with astonishment, for I have come to the conclusion -that if what they say is true it must be that, like the despised family -parties, it is because they did not manage their affairs properly. Why, -the honeymoon should be the most amusing journey one ever makes—I know -mine was—for one sets out together with an entertaining feeling that -the absence of the chaperon for the first time gives just a <i>soupçon</i> of -delightful impropriety to the journey; that for absolutely the first -time in one’s life one can go where one likes and do as one likes; that -if one liked to put on one’s Sunday frock on a week-day one would only -be admired and not scolded, and that one’s shopping becomes actually -important and not frivolous, because it is for the house and not for -oneself merely. Besides, there is the amusement of seeing new places -with a congenial spirit, and with one who does not consider it his duty -to insist on learning all he can about a place; in fact, the -honeymooners are no longer children to be educated, but people bent on -amusing themselves together, with no <i>arrière-pensées</i>; these come -afterwards. Then business has become dreadfully imperative in its -demands on the husband, while the wife leaves home for a holiday, her -mind distracted between pleasure and a melancholy foreboding of what may -happen during her absence to children and household, neither of which -can naturally trouble her during that first delightful jaunt, which -should always be to some amusing, bright place where theatres can be -fallen back on should it be wet, or where picture galleries could be -visited under similar adverse circumstances. One can visit the dullest -of places safely together after one has been married years; there are -then mutual interests which will always occupy husband and wife: but at -first this is actual suicide; there are then not very many things to -discuss, and the unfortunate young people fall back on endearments and -use up in a month that which should last them comfortably for all their -lives.</p> - -<p>But we are arriving at the honeymoon before we have allowed the -engagement, and must therefore retrace our steps, or else we shall omit -the most important item of all—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a>{167}</span>viz. how to act when we see an -engagement is imminent and we are not sure if we like it or not. We -should soon make up our minds on the subject though, for if we do not -approve we can easily manage that the young people shall not meet any -more. It only requires tact and common sense, two qualities which seem -to me often strangely lacking in the ordinary British household.</p> - -<p>And, indeed, all that appertains to matrimony is made very difficult by -the extraordinary manner in which English society looks upon the -relations between young men and girls; in some measure allowing great -familiarity, and in another way turning on anyone and calling her -‘match-maker,’ should the unfortunate individual attempt to bring -together those she thinks would like to see a little more of each other. -Match-maker, indeed! Why, I consider it the duty of every happily -married woman to try and make others happy in a similar way; and I have -known more than one happy woman rendered a miserably disappointed -spinster, just because the right person was not at hand to manage a last -meeting, or give the one opportunity that was all that was required to -make liking into love, or to ensure the speaking of the question that -had trembled on the lips for some time.</p> - -<p>Of course marriages are made in heaven, but I also know that Heaven -helps those who help themselves; and as no girl can do that, it is the -duty of her married friends to help her, especially if they have any -common sense, and can act <i>Deus ex machinâ</i>, without letting anyone know -what they have done.</p> - -<p>If our young people are ‘desperately in love’ with the wrong man, or the -wrong girl, all the better that the love is desperate; it will burn -itself out all the quicker; but not if we oppose the match tooth and -nail, though at the same time we need not countenance it. We should, -under these adverse circumstances, state calmly but boldly the reasons -we have for our dislikes; we should simply put all the ‘cons’ we know in -plain words, and we should listen to the ‘pros’ equally calmly, and we -should never allow a <i>personal</i> dislike to make any difference in the -matter; but our reasons should be valid and not of the ‘Doctor Fell’ -kind. Then, if the daughter or son is not convinced, say no more, do not -oppose it; let the young people see as much<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a>{168}</span> as they can of each other; -if there are disagreeable relations, make them very welcome to your -house; be civil but not affectionate to the man or girl; and finally be, -or rather appear to be, absolutely indifferent. Make a fuss, rage and -stamp and oppose, and you may at the same time order the trousseau. Act -as I advise, and ten chances to one the match will be broken off; but if -it is not, and should it turn out well, be the first to thankfully -acknowledge it. Should it turn out badly, refrain from the delightful -habit of saying, ‘I told you so,’ but instead recall to the offended -party all the reasons he or she had for marrying; do not condole, but -rather remind him or her of the early days and of the love that once -existed, and remind them that marriage, once entered into, must be made -the best of. You will do far more good and have far more satisfaction in -healing the breach than in proving yourself a true prophet; for if -people were more sure than they are now, that being bound they cannot -get loose, they would cease to strain against the cords, use would -accustom them to them, and finally what was once irksome would be -pleasurable. People who have once loved each other can always remember -the happy days of their youth; and, remembering them, naturally will -long to return to them, or to secure at least in some measure a reflex -of them in their middle age.</p> - -<p>But, having contemplated this side of the picture, let us look at the -far pleasanter one where all goes merry as a marriage bell, and the -engagement is all that it should be. Yet before we do this I must just -add one other word, and that is that, come what may, no marriage should -ever be entered on, on any pretext whatever, unless the consent, if not -the approbation, of the parents has been obtained. I have seen several -marriages begin like this; I have never seen one that turned out well, -or that was absolutely a success, and I do wish my readers to remember -that this is a fact, and to therefore refrain from conduct that can have -but one result; besides which, how can the children of such marriages -turn out, if one has no control over them, should they desire to do -likewise? for they have the one unanswerable argument in their -possession: ‘You did it; why should not I?’ Then also a man never really -respects a woman who throws over every one of her relations for him: he -knows he is not worth the sacrifice, and though he may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a>{169}</span> flattered at -first, ultimately he despises the girl who gave up all for him, and -never really regards her with the reverence he must give to her who -comes to him from her home, from her mother’s hand, knowing that that -home is the emptier for her absence, and that a place should always be -kept there for her, should she require to return there for any reason -whatever. Home should be always home to the married children of the -household, just as much as it is to those who remain spinsters and -bachelors; and on no account should the doors be closed on them, or -should they be allowed to feel that they have become in a measure -strangers there, and that their place being filled knows and requires -them no more. The trousseau of a girl should be as ample as can be -afforded, and should have more under-garments than anything else; -dresses alter in fashion so rapidly that it is folly to burden her with -too many garments; neither are unmade costumes any use in these days, -when no good dressmaker will make up one’s own materials. I should, -therefore, give a girl not less than two dozen of every feminine -garment, and as many more of each as I could afford. A good trousseau -would cost about 200<i>l.</i>, and of course as much more as the parents are -prepared to spend; it should include a sealskin coat and a long fur -cloak; the other outside garments should of course depend upon fashion -and time of year, but it is a good plan to have some extra yards of -material to all the dresses, particularly if the bride is going away -from London to a distant part of the world.</p> - -<p>When the engagement is really formed, and the wedding is beginning to be -the subject of conversation, one cannot say all the difficulties are -over; there are the bridegroom’s family to welcome and be introduced to, -and though, of course, if the bridegroom is well known to us this -initial difficulty will not have to be encountered in all its worst -forms, still very often the engagement alters one’s relationships -suddenly, and it requires careful steering then to avoid friction; as a -rule the parents on both sides think their children might have done -better, and it is generally difficult to prevent this feeling being -unduly apparent. Then I do beg for all my girl friends that they may -have a pretty wedding; I do not want enormous sums spent on the wedding -dress, but I do want the church to be nicely<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a>{170}</span> decked, all her friends to -be asked who care to come, not because they may possibly give wedding -presents—a species of blackmail which has become seriously unpleasant -lately to anyone who is not sufficiently strong-minded to refuse to give -because they are afraid of being out of the fashion—but because they -are really friends, and will bring good luck by their loving prayers and -real affection. And I do deprecate for all the hurried ‘quiet weddings’ -in a tailor-made frock; a woman should be in white on her festal day, -and it should be indeed a festal day if her marriage is entered on in -the spirit I have been writing about.</p> - -<p>I love a pretty wedding: the bride in her lovely white dress, and her -group of bridesmaids; the flower-decked church, the hymns, and the -bright faces of the choir boys (I must own I have a great weakness for -choir boys, and generally make friends with them all) are all such a -bright beginning to a new life; and if the solemn words are spoken by -the ‘family priest,’ the man who, may be, married the parents and -christened and prepared the bride for confirmation, there remains -nothing to be desired, and we can wish the new home God-speed, knowing -our wishes will have every chance of being fulfilled.</p> - -<p>Afternoon weddings, with the flower-decked tables and the inexpensive -refreshments, bring pretty weddings within the reach of everyone nearly; -even the erstwhile elaborately decorated cake now bears a wreath of -simple and real flowers, instead of the pinchbeck temple that used to be -reared on the centre; and all that is required besides is a certain -amount of cake, ices, tea and coffee, and a little wine. Here again the -expenditure can be regulated by the income; but it need not be an -expensive affair unless one specially desires that it may be.</p> - -<p>Now, most people are married by banns, and licences are rarely required; -this simplifies matters very much. But before the wedding is definitely -decided on I should advise the clergyman of the church one is always in -the habit of attending being consulted about all the legal forms; he is -sure to know all that is necessary, will tell you exactly what you ought -to do, what the choir and organist will expect (of course, if the -organist be a gentleman, as he often is, and a personal friend, you must -give him a present, not money), and what steps you must take about the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a>{171}</span> -decorations. But do not hand these over to a shop; be sentimental for -once, and let personal friends undertake this duty. I would rather have -hideous decorations put up by hands that loved one, on such an occasion, -than the most exquisite trophies ever designed by Mrs. Green and put up -by those who do not even know the bride and bridegroom by sight.</p> - -<p>I do hope every bride may soon have her <i>dot</i>, just like all French and -German maidens have; but in any case she must not go penniless upon her -wedding tour. Coventry Patmore’s idea in the ‘Angel of the House,’ that -his three-days’ bride asked him to pay for the sand-shoes—‘Felix, will -you pay?’—as a matter of course, is a mere man’s notion. I am certain -she must have hated to do it, and would have given anything for some -money of her own: so do not let Paterfamilias forget this, even if he -have the conscience to allow his daughter to go penniless into her -husband’s house; and let him give his daughter a nice little sum of -money, in order that she may not have to ask her husband for a farthing -until their return home, when the allowance question should be gone into -and settled, thus doing away with the constant jar about money, which is -at the bottom of more matrimonial unhappiness than is anything else.</p> - -<p>I think I have said all that is to be said on the subject of weddings, -and have stated boldly how best to secure the happiness of our children; -it is a subject on which I feel very deeply, and when I see girls marry -men who cannot by any possibility make good husbands or good fathers, I -long to tell them this, but of course no one but their mothers can; and -I shall hope that I may influence one or two to do so, and moreover to -insist that their children do not marry to perpetuate the disease or the -evil tendencies that must wreck innocent lives that have no business -ever to exist; for while, if marriage is entered into properly, there -can be no failure about it, marriage being the perfection of life, the -uniting and joining of the two lives, which, separate, are indeed -incomplete, but which, brought together, form an absolute and wonderful -whole, a marriage which perpetuates the vices of a drunkard, of an evil -temper, of an habitual liar, or the constitution of a consumptive or of -a lunatic, is absolutely wicked, and can never be anything but a curse -to the wife and mother, whatever it may be to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a>{172}</span> the man himself. A <i>roué</i> -has discounted his chances of a happy married life. No woman can reform -a <i>roué</i>, and even if she could she should not try, because in her -children she will perpetuate the father’s vices, and will make the world -worse a thousandfold by those she brings into it, while at the best she -may save a soul, though I personally do not believe she could even do -this; at all events, it is not right to sacrifice her future and her -children’s future in the endeavour, and therefore I hope she may never -try.</p> - -<p>As I said before, we cannot explain away the mysterious influence of -heredity; but as it exists and is inexorable in its consequences, we -must acknowledge it, and we must all do our best so to live that we can -give our children the noblest inheritance on earth—an unimpaired -constitution, and a name unstained by any mean or low vice, a name that -may be our proudest possession: aye, even if we saw it first above the -window of some suburban shop! Then shall the world become better because -we have lived in it and given it hostages also: and so shall we prove -what I should like to be always preaching—that marriage is the most -blessed state on earth, if it is begun and carried on mutually with -esteem, affection, and real consideration, for each other’s welfare.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br /><br /> -<small>ABOUT THE BOYS.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">The</span> poor boys! When I begin to write about their home I could almost -weep when I think how small a space of their young lives they are -permitted to spend under the home roof.</p> - -<p>I have said so much in my former book about home education that I -suppose I must not say very much more now, but I long to repeat my -protest against the present manner in which boys are sent away from -home, almost before they are able to stand alone, quite before they are -able to withstand all the thousand and one temptations that assail them -the moment they are turned into the herd of boys which represents a -school, and where the poor things<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a>{173}</span> have to spend most of what ought to -be the very happiest part of anyone’s life. However, as public opinion -is against me, I am going to set down here the best way of mitigating -the evils, and I also intend to give the relative expenses at some of -the best of our public schools and colleges, so that those who read this -book may see at a glance whether they can afford to send their boys to -Harrow, Eton, Rugby, or Clifton—Harrow being put first by me, as I am -devoted to the bright, healthy, happy place, as I suppose all are -devoted to the public school of which they know most; for, much as I -deprecate the life at school which is so far away from home influence, -and much as I should prefer to live at Harrow and have my boys home at -night, there is something about a public school education which nothing -else gives, and which can be entered fearlessly at fourteen if the boy -have been well trained and if he have a certain amount of moral courage -and good principles of his own. It is madness to send a weak-minded lad -who inherits evil propensities to a public school; he is sure sooner or -later to disgrace himself and his wretched parents at the same time.</p> - -<p>But before going into the question of schools and expenses there, let us -dwell for a few minutes on the arrangement of the boys’ rooms in the -house, which should ever be the happiest place in the world to them, and -from which should flow that never-failing stream of sympathy in their -progress, their pursuits, and their general welfare which has borne many -a lad on to success and to a brilliant place in the world in after life. -An authority told me once that the boys who did best were undoubtedly -those who had most letters from home; who knew everything that was -happening at home just as well as if they were there; to whom the -movements of the family and of the animals were as familiar as if they -still were among them, and who were not afraid to tell their parents -anything. Sympathy is a priceless gift; sympathy between home and the -boys at school is an anchor indeed, and will keep them safely in the -harbour when every other means might otherwise have failed. And this -sympathy can but be expressed in constant communication between home and -school, and by a loving care, while the boys are absent, of their rooms, -their belongings, and the especial niche which should be kept sacredly -for them, and not cleared out hastily for them to inhabit, as it were, -on sufferance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a>{174}</span> during the all too brief holiday time they spend at home.</p> - -<p>I do not mean to say that during their absence the rooms should never be -used, that would be simply too ridiculous; but they should not be taken -into household wear; if they are they cease to be the boys’ rooms, and -in consequence the boys feel they are a nuisance and putting some one -else out; they do not naturally take their places in the circle, feeling -they are filling a gap which has never been filled since the day they -returned to school.</p> - -<p>I should certainly try to have a place set apart for the boys for wet -days and for their own special occupations; if this cannot be managed, -their bedrooms should be so arranged that at one end they can carry on -their several hobbies without doing any damage to the finer portions of -the house; but, if in any way possible, secure a sitting-room for them -where they can do as they like; and if you want really perfect holidays -find some enthusiastic skater, cricketer, or walker as holiday tutor, -and make him responsible for the welfare of the boys. As they do not -live at home, naturally there is no one told off to keep special care of -them or to go about with them; if this is done, the holidays pass -without a hitch, and without unduly threatening the mother’s life, who, -try as she will, cannot be sure that, if the boys are out alone for half -an hour longer than usual, they are not drowned, or lost, or lying in -ditches with broken legs, and who can never school herself to be their -companion, even should she be strong enough to be so, because she is -always expecting something dreadful to happen to them. At least I know -what I feel on the subject, and I suppose I only feel what everyone else -does in the matter. In the boys’ rooms, whether bed or sitting rooms, I -advise always the invaluable dado; this ensures the lower parts of the -wall being kept tidy, and minimises the expense of doing the rooms up -when they become shabby. A rail along the floor, or rather a piece of -wood about three inches wide laid along the floor close to the -wainscoting, will keep the chairs, &c., off the paint, and then, if we -have a pretty paper above the serviceable matting, or cretonne, or arras -cloth which forms the dado, we shall be quite safe to preserve the room -for some time, looking fresh and nice and bright.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a>{175}</span></p> - -<p>If baths have to be taken in the boys’ rooms, or if they clean their -rifles, skates, or other matters there, or if they have pet animals -which share their abode, I strongly advise that the floor should be -covered with a plain good linoleum without any pattern on, and then on -the top of that a strong square of carpet should be laid. Wallace’s -‘Victor’ is a capital carpet, and so is Pearke’s Anglo-Indian square -carpet. This should not be fastened down in any way, and should be most -rigorously folded back by the housemaid during those hours when bathing -or dirty work is being carried on. The linoleum can always be cleaned -with soft warm water, and kept in order with boiled oil and turpentine, -and the carpet can be put back in a moment, thus making the room tidy at -once.</p> - -<p>Rubbishy cheap furniture should never be bought for a boy’s room. -Naturally by this I do not mean we should be unduly reckless over what -we buy for the boys, but that we should go to some good man like -Wallace, and tell him that we want good seasoned wood and handles which -will not pull off, and drawers and doors which will not stick, and which -will not tempt the lads by such conduct to undue violence in the matter. -Boys are always in a hurry, always impatient. They can’t help it; it is -a failing of the sex, and half the damage boys do is caused by the fact -that we do not realise this and often give them rickety or common -furniture, because ‘anything is good enough for the boys to knock -about.’ There cannot be a greater mistake. Give strong ash furniture, -made properly, a good plain brass and iron bedstead, and a good chain -mattress, and we shall find it pay; yes, even if the boys play ship on -the mattress, the necessary waves being well represented by the manner -in which the mattress goes up and down when jumped upon by the intrepid -sailors. Our mattresses have served as ships and as oceans too, but they -are as good now as the day they were bought, simply because they were -very expensive; but if they had not been dear I don’t think there would, -have been anything left of them by now; therefore cheapness is no -economy, as regards mattresses at any rate; of that I am quite -convinced. A good suite of ash furniture containing wardrobe, washing -stand, and toilet table can be had for about 10<i>l.</i>, and I do not advise -less being given. This should be supplemented by a chest of drawers to -hold shirts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a>{176}</span> socks, &c., and the boots should be kept either downstairs -in the cloak-room or else in a proper boot cupboard; and I strongly -advise the toilet covers to be in art serge, simply trimmed by a species -of edging in crewels composed of about nine stitches, one long, one -shorter each side of the long stitch, and one each side shorter still, -like this:</p> - -<div class="poetry"><div class="poem"> -<pre> - | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | -</pre> -</div></div> - -<p class="nind">This should be carried round the edges of the cover in a lighter shade -than the serge itself, and would cost about 2<i>s.</i> a cover, or indeed -less, as serge is double width. There would be no ball fringe to pull -off by shutting it heedlessly in a drawer, and there would be nothing we -could not easily replace, should blacking, paint, oil, or any of the -thousand and one messes in which boys seem to revel be spilled upon it. -White toilet covers are absolutely useless, and of course it would be -really ridiculous to give them more elaborate covers, which could only -be spoiled.</p> - -<p>It would not be of much use here to give any special schemes of -decoration for boys’ rooms, but I may say that the cheaper the wall -paper is above the dado the better. Boys are continually adding to their -stores of pictures and ornaments, and are as continually shooting at a -mark on the wall with anything that comes handy, and are not above -giving the flowers on the paper a nose, or a mouth from which a pipe -proceeds, or ears which resemble those of a donkey; and though these -decorations may be left a certain time it is best to have such a paper -which, while being pretty, is one that we can replace without an undue -struggle on our part; and I may mention Haines’s capital 7½<i>d.</i> blue and -terra-cotta papers. The blue could have blue paint, and a blue matting -dado, and a yellow and white ceiling paper; the terra-cotta might have -ivory paint, a terra-cotta and green cretonne dado, and curtains of the -same cretonne. Helbronner has a beauty, 604, at 1<i>s.</i> 8<i>d.</i> a yard, and -the ceiling paper could be Land’s pale green and white ‘Watteau’ at -3<i>s.</i> the piece. Wallace’s dull green ‘lily carpet’ would make a capital -square there, as would his red lily in the blue room, where the cretonne -could be Oetzmann’s red and blue Westminster<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a>{177}</span> cretonne, which should be -lined, as should all cretonnes which do duty for blinds as well as -curtains; this all curtains should do, had I my way entirely in the -matter. The walls and books and pictures should be the boys’ own choice, -and so should be the ornaments on the mantel-piece, though a clock -should be invariably provided, and this should be one the veracity of -which should be unimpeachable—punctuality must be enforced and hours -kept, and no excuses should be allowed on this score. If the youth -declares he wishes to make up for his perforce straitened hours of -repose at school, let him go to bed as early as he likes—never -interfere with that, but do not weakly allow him to be late in the -morning; it puts out the whole household, and for no reason at all, and -should never be countenanced for a moment. Late hours in the morning -mean more than I have space to dilate on here; but you may be quite sure -that a household which is late in the morning is never a well-managed or -prosperous one. Late hours then denote lazy, self-indulgent habits, and -therefore should never be allowed.</p> - -<p>If the boys begin them in the holidays be sure they will be continued -after school is left, and therefore be firm on this point, although I -know all too well how difficult it is to be stern and inflexible towards -the boys who are only at home for the holidays, and naturally are in -consequence just a wee bit spoiled by their indulgent parents. Now if a -sitting-room can be given to the boys and the tutor, I advise it being -furnished as prettily as may be as regards the walls, but the floor must -not have a carpet, and room must be found there for the lathe, -carpenter’s tools, and odds and ends so dear to the heart of the boy; -and here let me beg and implore parents to aid and abet their children -in any hobby they have, if they can do so reasonably and comfortably, -and without undue expense; and let me also beg of them to keep and treat -with scrupulous reverence any drawings, efforts of literary genius, or -of mechanical genius, which their children produce and present to them; -at the same time I do not advise their being exhibited to the world at -large, while I should carefully explain to children, that the thing was -kept, not because of its present intrinsic merits, nor because it was a -distinct effort of genius, but because it was their doing, and because -we should like to compare<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a>{178}</span> it with future efforts, in order that we may -see how they have improved.</p> - -<p>Without going the lengths that ‘Misunderstood’ does (a book, by the way, -which has made more prigs than any other under the sun, in my belief), I -think parents often make their children miserable without in the least -meaning to do so, by reason of the manner in which they refuse to -interest themselves in their pursuits. It is not pleasant to partake of -sticky black cakes baked in the dolls’-house pans, to sit on the cold -stairs in the dark looking on at a spirited representation of a -magic-lantern, the slides of which we know by heart, and we may endure -agonies over the hundredth representation of the usual charade, neither -may we feel profound interest in the School Magazine; but at the same -time we are bound to think we do, and we ought to be more than thankful -that our children care for these things and go in for them, rather than -for the usual hanging about, reading those dreadful Rider Haggard books, -which have done more harm than anything else, I verily believe, to the -youth of the present day, and have vitiated their tastes, until nothing -pleases them which is not written in gore and bound up in a mixture of -pistols and swords, which is as odious as it is unnecessary.</p> - -<p>The boys’ books ought to form a very distinct feature in their -sitting-room, and, if possible, we should endeavour to keep out all -Haggardish stories. But this is almost impossible in these days of -independence and fourpence-halfpenny literature. I know I can’t, and -glorious detective stories and other works of art are to be found all -over the house; but we must do our best to improve the standard, by -placing other better books in the authorised bookcases, and by -ridiculing and, if necessary, confiscating whenever we can all we so -highly disapprove of. At the same time I honestly confess this is mere -advice: I cannot stem the torrent myself, but hope there are other more -strong-minded parents than I am, who may be able to do so, though I have -done my best in the matter, and have tried everything I can think of to -eliminate these books, for which I have the most hearty contempt and -dislike.</p> - -<p>It would be no use, I think, to say more about the arrangement of the -room which should be set apart for the boys; but I cannot say too much -about the necessity of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a>{179}</span> dear things having a place where they can do -absolutely what they like, for half the friction which seems to me -inevitable in other people’s households, when the boys are at home, is -undoubtedly caused by the fact that the boys are in the way, and have no -place that they can call their own. Under these circumstances they worry -their sisters, spoil the furniture, and upset the servants; and more -especially does this happen in London, where there is nowhere for them -to disport themselves, and nothing that they can do except promenade the -streets and go to theatres and such-like places of amusement.</p> - -<p>Of course, little boys can be managed well. They have their nurseries -first, and then their governess and schoolrooms. It is when they begin -to go to school that the trouble begins. The governess does not care -about them preparing their lessons in her room; and if they are day -boarders, which they certainly ought to be until they are twelve or -thirteen, and, indeed, until they go into the big school, where they -should be when they are fourteen and not a day before, the lessons must -be prepared at home, and this work should doubtless go on under the -superintendence of someone in authority. Parents often can and do help -immensely, but there are very few men who do not find their classics -decidedly rusty by the time they are required to superintend their -children’s preparation; besides which they are, as a rule, tired with -their own day’s work, and are not in the least inclined for extra -labour, and often do not possess the necessary stock of patience -required for this kind of employment.</p> - -<p>My ideal education would consist of sending the boys to a good school in -the daytime, and in taking care that they prepare their work in the -evening, under a good tutor, who would be trusted to simply superintend -them, and to give the necessary help, but who would not do the work for -them; he would not live in the house, but would simply come for the -couple of hours during which the boys would work. This would do away -with the great objection to home education, which is undoubtedly the -work which has to be done at home, and which cannot be properly -superintended unless someone is told off for the purpose, unless the -parents are well up in the work of the day, and are furthermore prepared -to give up almost all society for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a>{180}</span> sake of looking after the boys—a -thing which should never be done, for it is most important that we -should make and keep friends; if we don’t care for them for ourselves, -we must care for them for the sake of the children, who would find -themselves shut out of everything when they grew up did their parents -withdraw themselves entirely from society when they were yet small.</p> - -<p>Of course a great many people cannot manage to live where there are -really good schools, but equally of course a great many can, and when -this can be managed it undoubtedly ought to be; and places like Bedford, -where the schools are excellent, and Wimborne, where the Grammar School -has improved mightily of late years, and where house rent is moderately -cheap and living very inexpensive, offer especial advantages to a widow -left with two or three sons to educate, and to military men and others -who can live where they like, and have only their boys’ education to -think about, Bedford being especially good for this purpose.</p> - -<p>I believe there is a book published which gives all necessary -particulars about all these schools, and indeed about all the schools -all over England, but I shall only mention those of which I have -personal knowledge, as I am no believer in second-hand information: this -can always be procured for special cases, and would be out of place in a -book like mine, but I do strongly advise all who can—all who have no -settled occupation that binds them down to a special locality—to live -where they can have their children educated from the home roof. I am -quite certain that this is the ideal and proper education, and results -in a better class of man all round. They may not be as polished, their -manners may not be as perfect, and they may be shy and gruff, but their -morals will be ever so much better, and they will be better men in the -highest sense of the word. For though they may ‘marry the lady’s maid,’ -like the youth in ‘Punch,’ at all events they will marry her; they will -not degrade and then desert her, as alas! so many men do nowadays. But I -myself don’t believe they would do anything of the kind; by far and away -the best men I know are those who have been least away from home, and -they are not among the unsuccessful ones of this life either.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a>{181}</span></p> - -<p>However, it is sometimes impossible for parents to manage home -education, though in London there are so many opportunities, that it -must be more a case of must than can’t, for there are Westminster, St. -Paul’s, and the University College Schools, all of which can be managed -after the boys are old enough to be trusted in the streets alone, and at -the latter of which for the absurdly low fee of 8<i>l.</i> 8<i>s.</i> a quarter -can be had the best education in the world, but where the boys need -learn very little if they can scrape through the day’s routine without -finding themselves in either the ‘black’ or the ‘appearing’ books; but -even then they do not learn as little as they can if they try at either -Eton or Harrow, where it seems to me the education given is especially -useless for practical service, and can never by any chance fit the -recipient for any real work that he may have to undertake.</p> - -<p>The perfect education should be that which most fits a man for his work, -and no one can watch the manner in which we are being ousted by Germans -from every place without allowing that their education has something -which ours lacks, and that unless our boys can be taught to emulate -their patience, perseverance, and eager quest after knowledge, to say -nothing of their capabilities of existing on a pittance, we shall wake -up some day to find our lads quite out of the running, because they do -not understand life properly, and because they are unable to fight for -themselves against the present overwhelming German invasion. There is a -limpness, a passiveness about the boys of the present day that is -something dreadful, and that I think springs in some measure from these -fatal examinations, and the fearsome higher education. They see the -prizes can only fall to the exceptionally gifted and hard-working -members of the fraternity, and therefore they are dispirited before they -start, knowing that, try as they may, they can never succeed. Far from -stimulating most youths to work, the sense that unless they are geniuses -they cannot pass the exams cripples them, and they cease to care to try -for what they know they cannot possibly obtain, read how they may; and -therefore I cannot but think the excessively high standard that must be -reached nowadays in everything is a mistake, and that serious -consideration should be given both to this and to the fact that our boys -are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a>{182}</span> not able to compete with the Germans because something in our -scheme of education and learning does not permit them to do so -successfully.</p> - -<p>Let us then give home education a chance and see what can come of that, -and let our nurses be French and German, so that the children may learn -these languages with their earliest breath; and, moreover, let us in -some measure educate our children for what they are going to be. It is -no manner of use to give those who are to be in trade the same teaching -as that required for the learned professions; and I venture to state -that if a man has to take to trade the sooner he does it the better. -Eighteen ought to see him in harness of a light kind, but harness all -the same; and I furthermore state boldly that it is absolutely waste of -time and money and everything else to send boys abroad to school. They -never do any good there, and they may get into most frightful mischief. -If boys must be sent to France or Germany, take them yourselves, -otherwise you may be quite sure that both time and money are wasted. I -am not speaking without book, and I have never heard of one school, -either in France or Germany, where the education was of the least use, -neither will it be until more schools follow the example of Clifton, and -form settlements abroad on the lines of our public schools; though even -then I am inclined to adhere to my own opinion and urge on parents, -whose sons require to know French and German thoroughly, to go to both -places themselves, and stay a couple of years in each in some good town. -If they do they will achieve their object, and their boys will command -far higher prices in the labour market than those can who do not know -any languages except their own, and a certain amount of Latin and Greek, -which, it seems to me, they learn only to forget as soon as ever they -can manage to do so.</p> - -<p>But if parents will not hear of home education they must most carefully -select the preparatory school, and they must manage to afford in -addition a first-rate public school, for nothing can possibly be worse -than a cheap or inferior place of education; and it is an astonishing -fact to me that in such an important matter as is education one requires -as a rule so little guarantee that we actually receive what we are -paying for.</p> - -<p>No one can be a lawyer or doctor without credentials;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a>{183}</span> anyone who likes -can open a school, and command scholars too. Why should not the State -interfere here?—it is very fond of interfering dreadfully on far less -important matters—and say boldly that no one shall have a school at all -until he has qualified himself in the eye of the State, and is diplomaed -or hall-marked in such a manner that one can tell at once whether he is -fitted for the work or not? Until this is done I much fear that -preparatory schools will not improve to any great extent, and that the -middle classes will continue to send their children to people who are -utterly unfit for the work they have undertaken. A personal reference -from some parent, often enough from one who knows little indeed about -his children, and possibly a few letters after the name, are considered -quite sufficient guarantee by most people that they are obtaining all -that they are paying for.</p> - -<p>A good preparatory school costs from 85<i>l.</i> to about 125<i>l.</i> a year; of -course less can be paid, and I dare say more can be paid also, but I -consider an excellent school can be had for 100<i>l.</i> a year. Of course -there are always extras beside, and these depend entirely on the means -of the parents, and in some measure on the schoolmaster himself, who -should undoubtedly be a man in whom we can trust, and to whom we can -give our confidence, telling him exactly what we can afford to spend, -and also what manner of child our special boy is, and also, most -important of all, what he is to be, and what particular talents, -weaknesses, or goodnesses he may be likely to inherit. We should also -give our child our confidence. We should tell him emphatically what we -can afford for him, what we wish him to do, and finally encourage him in -every way to get on by writing to or seeing him constantly, and by never -letting him imagine for one moment that ‘out of sight means out of -mind;’ he is more in our minds, just because he is absent from us, than -he would be were he constantly in our presence.</p> - -<p>As regards public schools, Harrow costs roughly about 200<i>l.</i> a year, -and the first term’s bills are as follows:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt">£</td><td class="rt"><i>s.</i></td><td class="rt"><i>d.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td>Board and washing</td><td class="rt">30</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Public tuition and school charges</td><td class="rt">11</td><td class="rt">11</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Entrance to school and house</td><td class="rt">16</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Private tuition</td><td class="rt">5</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="bt">62</td> -<td class="bt">11</td> -<td class="bt">0</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a>{184}</span></p> - -<p>Of course the 16<i>l.</i> entrance fees do not come in again, but this is -more than spent on extras. There are subscriptions to endless things and -payments for extra tuition, for which a long list of printed names on -the first account in some measure prepares the unhappy parent, who -somehow never is prepared, for the extraordinary amount of new clothes, -mending, hair-cutting, and other trifles, which go to sum up the -accounts in the ensuing terms.</p> - -<p>Eton seems to me to cost about 20<i>l.</i> a year more, and the bills of one -term are as follows:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt">£</td><td class="rt"><i>s.</i></td><td class="rt"><i>d.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td>Board and tuition</td><td class="rt">44</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Washing</td><td class="rt">2</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">7</td></tr> -<tr><td>Head master, school instruction, &c.</td><td class="rt">8</td><td class="rt">8</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="bt">54</td> -<td class="bt">8</td> -<td class="bt">7</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>This is without entrance fee, and the extras seem to me to be rather -more frequent, while Rugby is considerably less than either, the bills -there being as under:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt">£</td><td class="rt"><i>s.</i></td><td class="rt"><i>d.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td>Tuition</td><td class="rt">13</td><td class="rt">6</td><td class="rt">8</td></tr> -<tr><td>Boarding</td><td class="rt">24</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>School stationery (this varies)</td><td class="rt">1</td><td class="rt">10</td><td class="rt">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Medical officer</td><td class="rt">0</td><td class="rt">10</td><td class="rt">6</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="bt">39</td> -<td class="bt">7</td><td class="bt">2</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>Both at Eton and Rugby the allowance given by the house master is 1<i>s.</i> -a week, at Harrow 2<i>s.</i>, but besides this of course the boys take money -to school. The smaller boys at Harrow should not have more than 3<i>l.</i> -during the term, and out of this they must pay sundry subscriptions. At -Eton I think the pocket-money can be almost anything, while at Rugby -3<i>l.</i> does until the boy gets into the Sixth, when he should have more -money, and when the books, a heavy item in most school bills, are far -more expensive than they were in the lower forms.</p> - -<p>Individually I know most of Harrow, as I said before; but, as these -bills have been copied from actual accounts rendered to friends of my -own, I think I am justified in printing them, and they will also serve -as a guide to those parents who are hesitating where to put down their -boys’ names, a ceremony which should take place when the boys are about -six or seven; and if the parents have no ‘traditions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a>{185}</span>’ and are not -wedded to any special school by reason of the father having been there -before, or relations on either side having been in the special school, -the school should be chosen in some measure to suit the boy’s health, -and also in some measure his future occupation. I should not send a lad -who was going to work in any shape or form to Eton. That school should -be reserved for those useless individuals, who toil not neither do they -spin, nor should I send a boy to Harrow who intended to go in for trade -or anything save one of the learned professions. Those who have a big -business to go into might be sent to Rugby or Clifton, but I should -prefer to let them attend St. Paul’s or the London University School, or -else send them to Bedford or a similar establishment.</p> - -<p>When the boys are at school, the holidays should be in some measure -legislated for and all arrangements made for the boys’ welfare; and of -course no parent who cared for his or her children would possibly be -away from home or out of reach of the boys during that time: the -parents’ holidays, which are as important in some measure as the -children’s, should come off when school has begun again, but on no -account should they occur when the boys are at home; and if possible the -summer holidays should be spent by the sea, the beloved sea, which, as -fashion changes, is, I am sorry to say, becoming unpopular, and is left -alone by those who are fashion led, and in consequence impelled towards -the country or ‘foreign parts.’</p> - -<p>But of the holidays more anon; I have not yet quite done with the boys, -and the holidays can have a chapter to themselves later on.</p> - -<p>I think the most important hint of all which I have to give is that on -no account should a boy leave school or college until we have something -to put him into, and which shall occupy his time. There is nothing more -fatal than idleness, and it should never be countenanced in any shape or -form, and I do hope some day to find that all boys who have to earn -their living may be given some sort of a trade—something they can do -with their fingers, outside and above any profession they may be going -in for. Given a trade they can never starve, and would be far more fit -for the colonies, where so many lads flit, looking forward to more -freedom and more outdoor life than they can possibly have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a>{186}</span> here in -England, though I cannot imagine a more foolish thing than to allow a -youth to go out ‘on spec;’ unless he has something to go out to, he had -far better remain where he is; if not he will soon degenerate into -something far less like a gentleman than he would have been had he -remained at home and taken to some good and honest trade. I cannot help -thinking that these ‘decorative’ days of ours will open up the furniture -business to gentlemen, and that soon our houses will be provided for -entirely by men who are artists, and that those who cannot originate, -yet have artistic tastes and an eye for colour, will not despise work -which is far more interesting than desk-work for example, and far more -remunerative than the position of clerk, with which so many lads of the -present day have to satisfy themselves. The gentlemen of England can -bring back trade to England if they choose, they can replace the -slovenly workman and the shoddy work, and it remains to be proved if -they will do so; at present people’s eyes are open, and trade is no -longer a badge of disgrace, so I hope some day to see industrial -villages turning out good work, where at present are empty labourers’ -cottages and impecunious landlords with untilled farms; and in the -meantime I beg our boys not to remain idle but to work somehow, it does -not matter much at what, but at some work that will be good and must and -will find a market.</p> - -<p>If a lad is going into one of the learned professions it is necessary -that he go to college, where the expenses all told cannot be less than -300<i>l.</i> a year, but before he does so his father should seriously tell -him that whatever allowance he has is the extent of what he can give -him, and that under no circumstances whatever will he be responsible for -any debts of any sort or kind, and that doing what he is for him he is -doing his utmost, and that he would rather see him go through the -Bankruptcy Court than impoverish his sisters or his other brothers to -pay his extravagant liabilities. Let this be well talked over at home in -private, and I do not think the lad will place himself in the miserable -and anxious position of many a young man who ladens himself with debt -during his college life, which cripples all the best of his existence -and embitters his days in more ways than one; but the boy must have -parents on whom he can rely, and he must know that they mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a>{187}</span> absolutely -what they say. There can be nothing more unfair than for the girls to be -starved mentally and morally, and the younger lads badly educated, -because a parent has to pay debts which ought never to have been -contracted.</p> - -<p>Gambling debts should be utterly ignored by the parents, and gambling in -every shape and form should be absolutely forbidden, the reasons thereof -being plainly stated; and I think all parents should be more open about -their circumstances than they are to their children, who often get a -most erroneous impression about their people’s income, because of the -manner in which they live. Why! because they have a carriage and a big -house is the very reason why they can do no more, and why should the -parents give up all they have justly earned because their children are -extravagant? I see no reason myself, and I myself would certainly never -do so to pay extravagant liabilities, or liabilities incurred on the -gaming-table or on the racecourse.</p> - -<p>Give the boys a good education and a start in life, and provide the -girls with 150<i>l.</i> a year, either when they marry or at your own death, -and you have done your duty by your children. The girls cannot starve on -that income, and neither would they be the prey of any fortune-hunter; -but no one has a right to bring children into the world in the ranks of -the upper middle-class and do less; misery will come of it if he does, -be quite sure of that.</p> - -<p>Of course misfortunes may happen, and the parents’ early death may -prevent an actually safe future being secured for the children; but, as -a rule, an early death should be provided for by insurance, and -misfortunes, if undeserved, generally bring sympathy in their train, and -there are many mitigations, even for these, if parents are judicious and -have not flooded the world with an enormous family that they can have no -prospect whatever of providing for. As soon as the boys have finished -their education let them begin to work; a lawyer can begin; a doctor can -commence at once to wait for patients even if he cannot buy a practice, -which would be the best thing to do; a curacy can be procured for a -cleric, and if trades are chosen the sooner those trades are entered -into the better; but whatever is selected never allow idleness of any -shape or form. Idleness is the parent of all mischief. A man well and -healthily<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a>{188}</span> employed has neither time nor inclination to go very far -wrong.</p> - -<p>Let the boys be encouraged to have tastes, and above all let every lad -in England join some Volunteer Corps. I consider it a duty for every man -to be able, and to show himself willing, to protect his home, and if he -is encouraged at home he will volunteer, and will take an interest in -his work, which will be invaluable to him. The expeditions are pleasant; -all lads love a gun, and adore being able to shoot, and if the taste is -acquired in the school cadet corps it will continue afterwards; and -remember that all out-door sports and occupations are so many -safeguards—tennis, bicycling, volunteering, shooting, hunting, riding, -are all so many protections against temptations, to which all lads are -exposed, and on which of course it is impossible for me to speak here.</p> - -<p>To sum up the advice I would give about our boys, I would say that love -of home, love of sport (not racing, not battue, nor pigeon-shooting, nor -similar inanities, but <i>bonâ fide</i> sport), and love of an out-door life, -are the great protection for the lads. Do not encourage theatre-going -and endless balls and society affectations, but do encourage in every -way you can those things of which I have been writing. I am sure then we -shall have a healthier and a better race than the ‘masher’ Gaiety -bar-lounger, for whom I have such a profound contempt, or than the -race-frequenting, betting, ‘lemon-squash’ consuming, nerveless, -brainless idiot that is so extremely prevalent in the present day.</p> - -<p>As soon as a lad is eighteen he ought to have some definite allowance -for all his small expenses and to enable him to clothe himself, and this -must depend entirely on his parents’ circumstances, and where he is and -what he is doing. Of course, if he should be placed in his father’s -business he must be paid for his services, and this pay must cover all -he spends; but as a rule 50<i>l.</i> is ample. A man can dress well and -decently on 30<i>l.</i>, the other 20<i>l.</i> he can do what he likes with; and -he should be encouraged to save for a holiday in ‘foreign parts.’ He had -far better travel about than smoke his senses away, or waste his money -in going to theatres and in-door amusements of any kind.</p> - -<p>Boys are an endless anxiety, there is no doubt about<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a>{189}</span> that, and it is -greatly, no doubt, owing to that fact that the system of sending the -boys away to school has arisen; but although they are at school we -cannot get rid of our responsibilities, neither should we try to do so. -We are responsible for their existence, and we are bound to do the best -we can for them. We shall, I am sure, be rewarded for all they have cost -us, if we never relax our care until they are really grown up and are -capable of managing their own lives; then, if we have trained them to -love their home and to habits of work and occupation, we can do no more -but trust in Providence; we shall have our reward sooner or later, of -that I have not the smallest doubt.</p> - -<p>As soon as a man can keep a wife he should marry and begin to make a -home for himself. I am a great believer in early marriage, and I should -like all my boys to marry as soon as ever they can. There is nothing -teaches a man as the responsibility of marriage does, and nothing on -earth is happier than a happy marriage. It is the complement of life, -the perfect whole that all should strive to attain; about that subject I -am quite sure, and none of the stock arguments against marriage, nor the -stock jeers, will ever alter my opinion. Of course there are troubles, -if so they are borne better together; pleasures come, they are -brightened by having someone to share them; and above all, marriage -makes the home; the home gives an object in life and steadies at once, -therefore marriage should be encouraged in every way it can, and those -who are married should help on the marriage of others, and should show -by their own conduct and bearing that it is the best state on earth, if -undertaken out of pure love, not silly passion, and maintained in the -mutual respect, affection, and toleration for each other’s faults, which -are the very bonds of the home, and which last when every slighter bond -has given and fallen away. Once our boys are married we can breathe -again, at all events our active work for them is over; and the less we -interfere with them after that happy event the better chance will they -have of making a success of their lives. All we have to do is to win the -love and confidence of their wives, and that is not difficult if we -never offer advice on any subject, and give them as much affection as we -can. Above all must we resist the dear delight of talking over their -<i>ménage</i> with other people. ‘A still<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a>{190}</span> tongue means a wise head,’ says -the proverb, and a tongue cannot possibly be too still, when once there -are sons and daughters-in-law in the family.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.<br /><br /> -<small>SOME DOMESTIC DETAILS.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">I think</span> that I am more often consulted about how to manage servants, and -how to apportion an income, than on any other detail of domestic -management, and therefore I am of opinion that a few more words on these -subjects may not be out of place here, although, as I have repeatedly -stated elsewhere, no real help can be given by a stranger on either -matter, and that only a species of general rule can be laid down, either -about the management of the maids or how to set apart and divide the -income we may have to spend. To begin with the income: I have had two -scales drawn up by an accountant, and now present them here for what -they are worth. The first is the very smallest income that any two -people should marry upon, in my opinion; although I know many folks, -especially among the ranks of the clerics, who ought to know much -better, who continually do so, and as continually have numerous -families, for which they cannot provide in the least, and for which they -beg in the most shameless manner, and for whom I have neither sympathy -nor patience. As a rule these unfortunates live in the country and have -big gardens and houses found them rent free, but I have nothing to say -to them here, and, as I cannot conceive how ladies and gentlemen can -bring up, clothe, and feed their children, and manage their household -respectably on less than 800<i>l.</i> a year, I have no ideas on the subject, -and therefore cannot write on what I know nothing about.</p> - -<p>Let us therefore take the ordinary young lawyer or young man who is -‘something in the City,’ that unknown City, the occupations of which are -so mysterious in my eyes, and let us suppose he has 500<i>l.</i> to spend -every year, increasing, let us hope, should he indulge in the luxury of -a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a>{191}</span> family; a luxury he has no more right to go in for on a tiny income -than he would have to set up a carriage and pair, without being able to -pay all the concomitant expenses; and this is how he should parcel out -his expenditure:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">£</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><i>s.</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><i>d.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td>House-rent in London</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">80</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Rates and taxes</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">20</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Repairs to house and furniture</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">30</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Two servants’ wages and keep</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">90</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Keep of self and wife, <i>at least</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">75</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Clothes for wife and pocket-money</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">50</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Clothes for husband, including his daily<br /> - luncheon and City journey</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">70</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Coals</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">6</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Life insurance</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">27</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Summer outing</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">12</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">10</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Washing</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">16</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="bt">476</td> -<td class="bt">10</td><td class="bt">0</td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="nind">Leaving: the magnificent sum of 24<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> to cover doctors’ bills -and the thousand and one incidental expenses which are always cropping -up, to say nothing of amusement. One could hardly rise to the upper -boxes on 500<i>l.</i> a year if one must live in town and have appearances to -keep up as well.</p> - -<p>It is better at first, if the income is very small, to live in the -suburbs. There are not so many temptations to spend money, and there -would not be much going out. In London of course, the going out is -endless; there must be cabs, new gloves, flowers, and the hundred and -one extras that carry off one’s money, and two servants are a <i>sine quâ -non</i>. If the suburbs are selected, cabs and evening gloves, &c., need -not be legislated for; one servant could do the work; and the house-rent -and taxes would come to 50<i>l.</i> instead of 100<i>l.</i>; but there would be -the husband’s season-ticket to consider, and furthermore the intense -dulness that is the wife’s portion, for suburban residents are not -hospitable; they are, most of them, not very well off, for of course all -rich people fly to London; they are mutually suspicious of each other’s -<i>bona fides</i>, and are, moreover, engrossed as a rule in their domestic -duties, and when the husband returns from town he is not only tired with -his work, but with the added railway journey; he usually hankers after -his garden in the summer and his arm-chair by the fire in the winter, -and does not care to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a>{192}</span> go out, more especially as he judges from his own -feelings in the matter, and is quite sure his host wishes him at home in -bed quite as much as he wishes himself there.</p> - -<p>But, again, here I must show how impossible it is for another person to -really advise a friend on this subject of division of income -satisfactorily. There are plenty of suburban residents who are -absolutely satisfied with their fate, and are equal to the misfortune of -a small income. In that case I have told them precisely how they can -manage best on the sum of 500<i>l.</i> a year. I can assure them they will -have to be most economical and excellent managers to do that; and they -can furthermore understand that it costs about 50<i>l.</i> a year to add a -child to the establishment, and that 45<i>l.</i> a year is supposed to keep -and pay a servant. These two details will be of assistance, maybe, when -the income increases and the owners thereof contemplate a little -launching out.</p> - -<p>An income of 1,000<i>l.</i> a year should be apportioned as follows:</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">£</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><i>s.</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><i>d.</i></td></tr> -<tr><td>House</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">100</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Rates and taxes</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">33</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Repairs, renewals, &c.</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">50</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Two servants (rather better wages allowed)</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">100</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Keep of self and wife</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">100</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Wine, &c.</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">12</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">10</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Clothes and pocket-money for wife</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">75</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Clothes for husband</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">100</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Coals</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">10</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Insurance</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">50</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Summer outing</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">30</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Washing</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">26</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td>Balance for incidentals</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">313</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">10</td><td class="rt" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td><td class="bt">1,000</td> -<td class="bt">0</td> -<td class="bt">0</td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="nind">And this larger balance would be drawn, upon for the extra expenses, -such as entertaining and amusements, charities, and the thousand and one -pleasant ways of spending money that are open to the possessor of the -larger income, and are rigorously out of the reach of the owner of -500<i>l.</i> a year.</p> - -<p>Then, too, there are all sorts and conditions of things to consider -before laying down a law on the subject of apportioning the income; such -for example as the consideration<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a>{193}</span> if the income dies with the husband, -or if it may come from capital safely invested. In the former case the -insurance ought to be very largely increased, as that is the only -absolutely safe manner of saving one’s money. As a rule it costs about -27<i>l.</i> a year to insure the receipt of 1,000<i>l.</i> at death if the insurer -is a young man, and I ask all intending bridegrooms to consider what -this would mean if this be all the provision they can make for their -brides, supposing they were to die and leave them with two or three -little children and no other means. They could not live on 40<i>l.</i> a -year, which is about all they would receive, and I therefore do trust -all young men will seriously consider the matter before rushing into -matrimony. At present a great many folk are like the ostrich, they bury -their heads in the sands of present content and never consider the evil -days that are before them. If they remain two, no one can blame them, -but I do blame unendingly the selfish creatures who burden this -overcrowded world with more genteel paupers. If people on small incomes -insist on doing this, let them have the courage to bring up their -daughters as upper servants and their boys to good honest trades; it is -the genteel pauper, the girl who can paint a little, teach a little, and -embroider a little, and the boy who, come what may, must wear a black -coat or its equivalent in light tweeds, who have no right to be made to -exist, and for whom the world has absolutely nothing to offer save a -certain amount of snubs and a very large quantity of the unappetising -dish known as the cold shoulder.</p> - -<p>Therefore, if the income dies with the husband and there are children, a -certain amount of money must be put aside annually for insurance; it -ought to be enough to bring in 100<i>l.</i> a year to insure the wife from -starvation when she is too old, too worn with all she has had to do to -attempt to keep herself; and there should also be no false pride about -the manner in which the children are educated; they should go to Board -schools, where the teaching is excellent and far better than one can -procure at ordinary small schools, which may be much more ‘genteel’ but -will not be half as useful; for the Board schools are far and away -better than anything that could be obtained from the wretchedly -underpaid teachers who would be the girls’ portion. The necessary -companionship with wretchedly poor and dirty<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a>{194}</span> children, which is the -great drawback to a Board school education, could be mitigated if all -those who are really worthy of the Board school education were to share -it; and surely a good mother could tell her boys exactly what to avoid, -and the lads could come straight home and simply be taught in the -school. The girls would not need so much looking after, for they are far -more conservative naturally than boys: boys will play with and talk to -anyone; a girl very soon discriminates for herself, and will not play -with another if she suspects her to be in the very smallest degree below -her in the social scale.</p> - -<p>It will be observed that I do not in the least take a sentimental view -of life, for I feel that when one contemplates the terrible army of -martyrs, the girls who have been ‘genteelly’ brought up and are -‘genteelly’ starving or living on their most unwilling and hard-working -relations, one cannot say too much or write too much on this subject, -and I cannot also but think that when there is the cry in the land that -there undoubtedly is for more servants, more good and trustworthy -lassies to help us with our domestic duties, and that when ladies in -Australia are so pressed by their troubles and by the fact that they -cannot get ‘help’ for love or money that they are actually driven to -write to their papers to suggest that men may marry more wives than one, -because no one but a wife is found to do house work, and that one wife -is not sufficient for the purpose, it is quite time that the surplus -maidens should consider whether it is quite as impossible to become a -servant as it appears to be now. As decorators, governesses, and -spoilers of canvas, they are undoubtedly not wanted, but they are -required badly for simple domestic work, which is, none of it, half as -hard as unlimited tennis, dancing all night, or rowing: not any of it -half as unpleasant as is living on the begrudged charity of some -relation, who wants all his hard-earned savings for his own children, or -as degrading as is marrying the first man who asks them, and who can -give them some sort of a home, for whom they have not the smallest -respect—the very smallest amount of affection.</p> - -<p>Now, of course there are disagreeable details about house work, and -scrubbing cannot be pleasant, but surely the ‘scrubber’ could come in -daily and do up the worst of the ‘chores,’ as the Yankees say; and what -is the rest? Waiting<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a>{195}</span> at table, not half as unpleasant as selling at -fancy fairs; opening and answering the door, not half as hateful as -bringing one’s wretched little painted match-boxes and tambourines to an -overstocked guild, or a most unsympathising and equally overstocked -shopman, who is often far more impertinent than any caller ever could be -to the lowest maid in the establishment; and I personally should prefer -to make beds, wash china, dust rooms, and clean silver to hanging about -listlessly in a shabby frock, knowing quite well that I could never have -another unless some reluctant relation gave me one she would much rather -have given to her own children; and I cannot recollect any duties which -would be expected from the girls which I have not enumerated above, or -that they could not honestly undertake in a sheltered home and under -proper matronly care.</p> - -<p>And if all servants were ladies—and I see no reason why every servant -should not be a lady if she tries—think how much more our houses would -be our own than they are at present! Even with the best of maids there -are always places in it and corners where we feel we cannot go exactly -when and where we like, and where, try as we will, we cannot be -absolutely sure that thorough cleanliness prevails and where, moreover, -we cannot be ‘decorative’ because all our efforts are frustrated by -those who cannot shake off their early training and can no more refrain -from smashing china and scraping paper off the walls than they can learn -to trust us implicitly and in their turn allow us to trust them.</p> - -<p>Remember, I personally never can nor will join in the fearful outcry -against the maids which I hear on all sides of me. I have related my own -experiences in Vol. I. of this book, ‘From Kitchen to Garret’ and I have -not one word to add or take from what I have said there. I still -maintain, if you take your servants young and train them yourself, and -if you don’t expect perfection and show that you mean to be obeyed, you -will have no trouble; but you will never have perfect service until you -can have ladies in your house, whose ladyhood will ensure the perfect -trustworthiness, the honesty, the cleanliness that no cottage-bred girl -can ever give, because she can never be taught to really comprehend the -necessity of all these particulars.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Crawshay’s scheme of lady helps has, I believe, quite collapsed; at -all events, one hears nothing about it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a>{196}</span> now; but I see no reason why an -earnest effort should not be made to try sending our superfluous girls -to Australia as lady helps, and then, if that succeeds, trying them in -England, where there seems to me to be a real and crying want of good -domestic servants. I am only judging from other people’s woes; for, -although I dare say I have mine before me, I have not experienced them -yet, and have always been able to find what I wanted without any undue -exertion on my part. Of course the house would have to be reorganised to -some extent. The bedrooms would have to be as fresh and pretty as one -could make them; and, above all, we must reform our kitchens, which are -at present the most unhealthy, disagreeable, and odious rooms in the -whole house, as they are undoubtedly the ugliest, and where, in ordinary -households, the unfortunate maids have winter and summer to sit while -the cooking is done, and in heat that I wonder allows them to live at -all, and that must exasperate their tempers as much as it must try their -constitutions.</p> - -<p>Now let us consider the ideal house and the ideal kitchen, and I cannot -see myself why both should not exist; let us build our washing-stands so -that hot and cold water are able to be turned into the basin which can -overtip and empty itself; smaller conveniences could be managed in the -same manner, and all the housemaid would have to do would be to wipe out -the basins daily, to sweep up the pieces with the ‘Ewbank’ -carpet-sweeper, which makes no dust and picks up every morsel off the -floor, to make the beds and dust, the very making of the beds being -simplified by the chain and hair mattresses now general. All that has to -be done is to turn the mattress daily, to spread the under blanket and -sheet absolutely smoothly over it and tuck them in, to replace the -bolster and pillows, and the over supply of blankets, &c., carefully -straightened and tucked in. Is that harder than tennis, more menial, -forsooth, than living on one’s relations, or husband-hunting genteelly -under the greatest of all difficulties, the difficulty of looking nice -and merry, and being good-tempered, on absolutely no means at all?</p> - -<p>Now let us take the ideal kitchen, the kitchen as made and designed by -Mr. G. Faulkner Armitage, of Stamford House, Altrincham, Cheshire, who -has most kindly drawn<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a>{197}</span> for me the different pieces of furniture with -which he decorates this charming room of his, and which, in the -Manchester Exhibition, were stained green and decorated with brass -hinges and locks, and see how we could adapt this to our present style -of house, the house with the tiny kitchen, the smaller laundry, pantry, -and scullery, and where there is not an atom of sitting-room apart from -where all the work is going forward. In that case is it worth while to -make a pretty room, and if we do can it be possibly kept so? I think it -can, even with our present maids, whose taste for the beautiful is not -largely developed; it most certainly could if we are given the maid of -the future, the real lady-maid, who may come forward to the rescue of -those unhappy beings who at present haunt the precincts of registry -offices and spend small fortunes on advertisements which can have only -the most barren results.</p> - -<p>But before I go on to speak of the ideal kitchen and the cook of the -future; who will hardly concern my readers, as she is not born at -present, or if she be is certainly not ready for engagement, I should -like to say a few words about the best manner to obtain servants, -repeating continually that if we require good ones we must take them -ourselves and train them ourselves. I am always met, when I state this -fact, by the unanswerable argument, ‘I have neither time nor patience to -teach my servants; I can pay good wages. I want to engage skilled -labour.’ Skilled labour may be had for money, there is no doubt, but the -person who engages her maids on these lines will never have good or -affectionate servants. She will be waited on, dressed, cooked for -admirably, no doubt, but she will obtain nothing beyond her mere -bargain. For better wages, a more aristocratic place, her cook will -leave her in the lurch, despite the fact that she may expect to be laid -up or to have most particular and important visitors at the very period -when the old maid departs and the new one comes in. Her nurse will -extract her pound of flesh in the shape of holidays and outings, whether -the baby is teething or not, or whether the children are all miserable -with colds, or she herself long to lie down with a bad headache. The -housemaid will go to her ‘church or chapel,’ to her promenade with her -ever-changing young man, whether she has unexpected guests or not; and -she will never know the extreme<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a>{198}</span> bliss and comfort of possessing friends -in the kitchen, who give up their own holidays because they are sure -their mistress is not fit to be left, who regard the children as if they -were as much theirs as they are the mistress’s, and who finally think of -her and hers, and her comfort, as she does herself. No mere hired help -will do all this. You must have maidens whom you have carefully trained; -you must take trouble—aye, and never-ending trouble—about them, unless -you wish to join the ranks of those who are always abusing their maids -and yet would not lift their fingers to assist themselves. And then, -again, you must undoubtedly train yourself at the same time not to -expect perfection.</p> - -<p>Think of our own girls. Are they always to be trusted at tennis and at -balls to maintain that serene and demure deportment which of course we -always did, and which we naturally expect from our daughters, especially -where young men are concerned?</p> - -<p>Do they never flirt? Are they never found missing at critical moments, -for example, when the carriage is at the door, and Paterfamilias is -divided between anxiety for his horses and wrath at being kept waiting? -Do foolish little notes never pass? Are flowers never given to the most -detrimental youths of one’s acquaintance? And finally, do our own -daughters always keep men at arm’s length? Are they always truthful, -always obliging, always careful about their own rooms and the things -which are committed to their charge?</p> - -<p>I leave each mother to answer for her own daughters. I should not like -to answer for all the girls I know, and I seem to remember episodes in -my own past (was it mine, or did it belong to some one I once knew very -well indeed, I wonder?) which I should rather not confide to my -daughter, and indeed which I should not care to hold up to her as an -example of what all girls should do, and which often make me very kind -to the maids when I meet them promenading with the youth who calls for -orders or the man whom I scarcely recognise out of his livery; and it is -far better to know such things will happen, and to keep a kindly eye -over these affairs, than to scold vigorously and declare that whatever -happens no followers of any sort or kind shall enter your chaste abode. -Neither should they until the engagement is a <i>bonâ-fide</i> one, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a>{199}</span> one -that you know is allowed and smiled upon by the girl’s parents. This you -should ascertain for yourself—another reason for taking your maids -young and from a family of whose antecedents you know something from -your own observation. And I never think much harm can happen from these -promenades if great stress is laid upon the fact that all must be at -home after dark, and that in winter no one must stay out after 8.30. -Then the house door should be locked and the key brought upstairs, -either in town or country; there is always the front door to come to, -and there is no reason why everyone should not come to that.</p> - -<p>I am no advocate either of very hard and fast rules, and I maintain that -it is very difficult to make, and still more difficult to keep, set -regulations which circumstances may alter at any given moment. The only -thing that must be insisted on is punctuality; without punctuality no -household can go on, no establishment can be in the very least degree -managed or carried on. The servants become slovenly; and it is -impossible to get through the work, because no one knows when the meals -are to be, or when the beds can be made. Therefore, the first rule, and -indeed the only really important rule, is that which makes the meals -regular, and the attendance thereat compulsory on all members of the -family, children and temporary members, such as visitors, alike. After -that, and when we have demonstrated how the work is to be done, we -should stand aside and not interfere unless it is absolutely necessary; -then a few quiet words are enough. Whatever you do, do not ‘nag;’ a -servant that requires acrimonious scolding and continual ‘telling’ had -better go, and another should be had at once.</p> - -<p>The best way to find a servant (if your ‘place’ has a good name) is to -inquire among the tradesmen. If a good servant is leaving her place, she -always tells the butcher and baker; she never goes to a registry office. -If she is leaving to better herself, her mistress can soon find her a -place among her own friends; there would be no need for her to go -elsewhere, and I do not think a really first-rate maid ever goes -anywhere except to her mistress or to the tradespeople, who are all -delighted to help her to find what she wants. An advertisement in the -‘Guardian’ or ‘Morning Post’ is another excellent means of obtaining a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a>{200}</span> -recommended servant, and I hope some day to find that the clergyman’s -wife in each country parish will turn herself into an amateur registry -office for all the young girls under her husband’s charge. She should -teach them in the kitchen and nursery and train them in nice ways, and -be always possessed of some maiden she can send out into a better place. -Of course the Girls’ Friendly Society does something of the kind, but -the good that it does is largely discounted by the evil ways of many of -the ‘associates,’ who cannot help interfering egregiously and stupidly, -and so bringing what ought to be an absolutely perfect organisation into -contempt.</p> - -<p>In London there is only one way of finding good servants, and that is by -advertising in either of the papers I have suggested, saying ‘Apply by -letter only,’ or else the advertiser will be inundated with a class of -persons who apply on the chance of picking up something in the hall, or -of getting their ‘expenses’ paid. No unknown person should ever be left -alone for a moment in the hall, and on no consideration should anyone -pay the ‘expenses,’ which often exist in the imagination only, and would -be amply recouped were twopence handed over to the applicant to cover -her omnibus fare; that even should be given with caution, for, absurd as -it may sound, there are people who exist on applying for situations, -which they accept and give excellent references to empty houses, and -promise to come in at once, to commence the duties required immediately. -The mistress, overjoyed at the idea of securing such a treasure, gladly -pays the fare to some country station, to be refunded, of course, out of -the first quarter’s salary, and goes off for the treasure’s character, -when she promptly discovers she has been done, and that if such a house -does exist at all it is either closed entirely or lived in by someone -who has never heard of the treasure, who naturally is also not to be -found at the home address, that was given so glibly and written down so -very carefully.</p> - -<p>A written character should also never be taken. The most exquisite -handwriting, the best of all note-paper, duly embellished with a crest, -address, and monogram complete, are no safeguard, for servants have been -known to steal note-paper, and in these days of universal education a -good hand is not to be trusted in the least. Even if the family<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a>{201}</span> with -whom the servant lived has gone abroad—and this is the favourite reason -always given when a written character is produced—there must be some -relation or friend of the last employer still left in England who would -not object to speak for a maid, who if worth anything at all must be -known to someone outside the mere inner circle of the house itself; and -this should be insisted on, especially in London, where an unknown -servant is often the friend of the gentle burglar, and can do an immense -amount of mischief. Indeed, when I thoroughly sift the numerous -complaints which reach me about servants, I invariably find them caused -by the fact that the maid has either been procured by a registry office -or taken with only a written character in the most careless way, and -with not half the precautions we should take before we engaged ourselves -to call on a new comer to our especial district. We demand very strict -credentials from anyone we admit to our house as a mere acquaintance; we -let anyone into the house to live as a servant who can produce any scrap -of writing, or procure any registry-office keeper to speak for her -capabilities and character.</p> - -<p>I am not speaking without due thought on the matter. Of course there are -absolutely trustworthy registry offices, and some written characters may -be genuine; but as a rule neither is to be trusted, and it is far better -to do one’s household work oneself than to engage someone of whom we -know no more than can be told us by an individual eager for the hiring -fee, or from a bit of paper probably written on by the applicant -herself.</p> - -<p>I actually know a case where the mistress had to go into the -neighbouring town to search for a cook who had been missing for -twenty-four hours, and who found her locked up in the police court for -drunkenness and riotous behaviour, and who discharging her on the spot -was surprised to find the woman a few weeks after in a friend’s house. -The registry-office people had answered for her character; although the -first mistress had taken the trouble to place the report of the case in -the local papers in the registrar’s hands, and the cook was in -possession, needless to remark that she broke out again and is no doubt -carrying on her practices in another confiding mistress’s house at this -very moment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a>{202}</span></p> - -<p>A written character introduced a butler into a friend’s house, which he -promptly burned to the ground in a fit of blind drunkenness, while -another servant in another house was found in the act of carefully -concealing a burglarious parent in a convenient cupboard; and indeed I -do not think I am exaggerating when I say that every case of ‘bad -servant’ that is brought under my notice originates in either of these -two particulars, and that if due care, aye, and even what may appear as -<i>undue</i> care, is taken about the manner in which a servant is engaged we -shall soon hear far fewer complaints than we do at present; while by -raising the tone of our maids and ensuring that only really -good-charactered servants will be employed, we shall get a better class -of girl to take to service, and we shall thin the ranks of unemployed -dressmakers, telegraph clerks, and shop-girls, and shall bring them back -to the sheltered, safe, untempted lives that are the portions of all -those who are in good places, under the care of conscientious and -thoughtful mistresses.</p> - -<p>I think many writers—Mr. Besant, for example—have done great harm by -the manner in which domestic service has been run down; and when I am -called on to pity and weep over the case of the ‘sweated’ sempstress, -the underpaid, unsettled governess, the miserable shop-girl, who cannot -sit down and to whom all sorts of unpleasant internal miseries happen -because of her hard work, I absolutely refuse to do so. There are plenty -of good sheltered homes waiting for these girls, either here or in -Australia, where they can be fed and well looked after, where they have -every comfort, and where they are as absolutely safe as if they were in -a palace, indeed, much safer, as maids in palaces are left much to their -own devices and can get into as much mischief as they please, and there -is therefore no reason for their unhappiness save and except the absurd -one of wishing to be their own mistresses.</p> - -<p>‘Freedom! I want my freedom. I would rather starve than be obliged to -brush my hair neatly, to give up my drowned ostrich feather, my screams -of unbridled laughter in the streets, the delicious joy of trailing up -and down a gas-lighted road, and, in fact, of being my own mistress.’ -That is the argument put into the mouth of the factory girl, only, of -course, in not quite such plain language, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a>{203}</span> much applauded. Now, if -so, don’t ask me to weep over the girl who talks like this, because I -shall not do it. Freedom is about the worst thing in the world for a -young girl. She requires a guiding hand, as, indeed, in my opinion, all -women require one, all through their lives; and, after all, who is freer -and less trammelled than a good servant in a good place? She has no -anxieties, no troubles. Whatever happens, her wages are paid to the day, -and her food is unfailing. Indeed, when troubles are disporting -themselves in the drawing-room the maids seem to think ‘more food and -oftener’ an excellent panacea. And she can have her holidays and her -walks too whenever they can be managed; while for the large class of -girl who becomes, or rather wants to become, a nursery governess, are -there not endless other situations crying out for them, where as upper -nurses, ladies’ maids, or good cooks they could be sure of occupation -and of ending their days in comfort, having been able to save, which -they could never have done on the 15<i>l.</i> a year of the ordinary nursery -governess, who does all the mending and bathing, and, indeed, in some -cases, much more of it than falls to the share of an upper nurse, who -yet ranks below the governess, because she is a servant.</p> - -<p>Now, I think that, if the young people who marry on about 300<i>l.</i> a -year, and can only afford one maid, would try this plan of engaging some -girl who cannot get a situation as nursery governess, and work together -with her, they would be far more comfortable than they otherwise would -be. All their things are new and pretty, the bedroom nice, the kitchen -fresh and comfortable. A young bride on a small income must help with -the cooking and bed-making. Surely this would be much more pleasantly -carried out if the maid were in some measure a friend. I can assure you -that old-fashioned servants I know have far better claims to be -considered of a good family than dozens of girls who pitchfork -themselves into the governess ranks, and consider themselves members of -the aristocracy from that date.</p> - -<p>To sum up, then, our case: if we require a comfortable house we must -take our servants young and train them ourselves, or we must be very -sure that the servant is what she claims to be, and that the character -she is provided with is a good one; and, finally, we must endeavour to -refill<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a>{204}</span> the ranks of upper and better-class servants from the -overstocked ones of nursery governesses and unoccupied girls, whose -parents have not provided for them, and who are unable to do a single -thing by which they can in any measure help themselves.</p> - -<p>There are stupid, careless, and even unkind mistresses in the world, but -as a rule servants are considered and very kindly dealt with, and there -can be no reason why a girl should refuse a sheltered home and work that -is not as hard as many other kinds of labour, and that should be amusing -and pleasant, in a small household, or even in a large one, where the -housekeeper is a lady and the upper servants are distinct and separate; -a nurse of course having her own rooms and being waited on far more than -is the governess, who after all in the eyes of the domestics is neither -one thing nor another, and has often enough to go without or see after -her own comforts.</p> - -<p>But until that halcyon day arrives we must, as I remarked just now, be -very particular about the maid’s references, and we ought then, if -possible, to make the acquaintance of her mother, and also, if we can -manage it, of the clergyman who prepared her for confirmation. Of course -this means trouble. Yes, it does, but not half as much trouble as is -caused in the endless procession of new servants which passes through so -many houses, leaving behind it traces of its progress in the shape of -ruined brooms and brushes, burned-out saucepans, smashed crockery, and -bladeless knives, all of which must be replaced as one goes out and -another comes in, in a manner which almost ruins the unfortunate master -and enrages the mistress proportionally.</p> - -<p>And now to turn to the question of how to make the kitchen a little -pleasanter than it is at present, especially in those houses where there -is no servants’ hall. The best of cooks only succeeds in making her room -look spotlessly clean and absolutely uninteresting; there is nothing -pretty about it, and there is, as a rule, nothing save the ordinary hard -Windsor chair on which to sit. This is quite right and what it should -be; but besides that there could be an easier chair for the tired -servant, who presumably can get quite as fatigued as we can, and for -whom we could provide a low-backed chair with cushions (easily taken out -and washed) once we have come to the conclusion that she is<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a>{205}</span></p> - -<p><a name="ill_17" id="ill_17"></a></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-205_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-205_sml.jpg" width="450" height="274" alt="Image unavailable: Fig. 17.—An Ideal Kitchen." /></a> -<br /> -<span class="caption">Fig. 17.—An Ideal Kitchen.</span> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a>{206}</span></p> - -<p class="nind">likely to stay with us and that she is to be trusted not to make hay -with it.</p> - -<p>Our artist has made a sketch of ‘an ideal kitchen’ from Mr. Faulkner -Armitage’s designs, which I hope will some day be the kitchen of the -future. Here the dresser and mantel-piece arrangement provide for all -the necessary pots and pans, while the furniture is as simple as it is -pretty, and in consequence has an artistic effect which is really -charming.</p> - -<p>This furniture is stained malachite green or russet brown, whichever is -preferred; with the green furniture, the tiled paper on the wall, which -is much nicer to live with than mere colour-wash and is quite as clean, -as it can be wiped over with a damp duster quite easily, should be red -and white, and the paint a dark shade of red; with the brown, the paper -should be blue and white, and the paint a good blue, and all along the -wall on the floor should be a two-inch band of wood; this keeps the -chairs away from the wall; but if the base of the wall becomes shabby a -dado of oilcloth can always be added with a real dado rail; this keeps a -wall tidy for years, and can always be washed, and finally painted over -should the pattern crack or become in any measure worn and untidy. The -ordinary boarded kitchen should be covered entirely with a good, -well-seasoned linoleum, and a square of carpet lined with a thin -American cloth should be given to the cook to place down on Sundays, or -after the worst of the work is over; this gives a finished and furnished -look to the room, and adds a great deal to the comfort of the maids. A -stone floor should be painted with Hoskyn’s Ben Trovato red, and some -rugs laid down at all times, as this is very bad to stand upon. I had -linoleum laid all over the only stone floor I ever possessed, and that -answered excellently; it was put down so that it adhered to the stone in -some manner, and lasted a very great many years in excellent condition; -but should anyone object to this I can also recommend a square of -Treloar’s cocoa-nut matting, bound all round with a wide binding; but -this should be rolled back for cooking, as grease adheres to it -dreadfully and soon makes it shabby.</p> - -<p>The kitchen windows are always rather a trouble to arrange, as generally -they are basement windows, and muslin so soon gets out of order with the -steam and general<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a>{207}</span> mess; but if the cook takes pride in her windows and -likes to wash her curtains herself there is no reason why she should not -have the same kind of white curtains that there are in the bedrooms; but -let all come from the top of the window, half-blinds being dreadful, and -looking worse, in my opinion, than no blinds at all. In windows on a -level with the garden or street one must have obscured glass, either -cathedral or ribbed glass. This, of course, is rather hard on the maids, -who are not thus able to look out, but it cannot be helped: it is -impossible for the kitchen to be so much in evidence as it otherwise -would be, and no muslin is as effective a screen as the obscured glass -is.</p> - -<p>There should always be inside bars and shutters to any basement or -ground-floor windows, and nothing should be kept downstairs which can -possibly or in any way tempt the prowling burglar. All silver should be -taken upstairs to the master’s room, and there should be a small dog -loose downstairs; a dog frightens a thief dreadfully, as he is quite as -much afraid of his bark as ever he is of his bite.</p> - -<p>The basement in a London house is often a dreadful possession, as there -are so many places where a thief could conceal himself in the daytime. -No doors, then, should ever be left unbolted; and the master should, -furthermore, make a practice of going round the very last thing at night -to see that all is safe, or else there can be no security at all. -Sometimes the servants may descend again and hold unholy revels; -sometimes an open or unguarded door leaves access to the place; and an -unexpected visit from a tramp may alarm us as much as would a -professional visit from a burglar. We cannot impress this on our -servants too often, and we impress it on them a thousand times more -forcibly than we otherwise should when they see our nightly patrol, and -know we have supplemented their bolts with a visit of inspection. Then -the door at the top of the stairs should be bolted, barred, and locked, -and the key removed. This should be given into the care of the butler if -there be one, or into the safe keeping of the cook; and we may retire to -rest feeling safe that even if the tramp comes, or the thief is in -hiding below, he will remain in the lower regions, and can do nothing -worse than have a feast in the larder or break a few panes of glass in -his efforts to escape.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a>{208}</span></p> - -<p>It will seem to my readers that one has to take endless trouble, to see -perpetually about endless trifles, as long as we are householders, and -have the management of a family on our hands. Yet once started on good -lines, and matters are not so difficult as they appear; still, of -course, no life of great responsibility—indeed, no life at all—can -ever be entirely happy and entirely easy. Those who have least to do -become bored and tired by mere inactivity; those who have most, wearing -out instead of rusting out.</p> - -<p>All comes to an end some day; there is no doubt about that. Strive as we -may, death waits for us all, and our carefully trained household falls -apart and drifts away; our furniture wears out, our carefully amassed -hoards are turned over and parted among our successors; some one else -takes our house, and obliterates with his personality the last traces of -ours; and if we have refused to do our work, or let things slide, we -shall speedily be forgotten; but if we have honestly done our work, what -of it? Our maids carry on our good lessons elsewhere; our hoards make -someone else happy, and the example we have set bears fruit a -hundredfold, and someone is always happier, some household better for -the work we have done. No matter, then, if we have fallen out of the -ranks, tired out; we have done our work, and so can retire gracefully, -being quite sure that none of our trouble is wasted, and that not one of -us has toiled in vain.</p> - -<p>And I maintain that we cannot ever take too much trouble about our -homes, that we cannot have them too pretty or too well managed, and -that, moreover, once they are started, they are easy to keep going, -always supposing that we have regular ways and rules, that we do not -muddle, and that we pass over nothing that requires attention, let it be -a braid off a chair, or the misdemeanour or disobedience of a servant or -child; the one should be mended, the other spoken to at once, then -things will go on like clockwork, and we shall be fairly astonished to -find how well things progress and how admirably they manage themselves.</p> - -<p>Start well, start carefully, and then all one has to do is to steer -straight; after all, steering is not very hard work, and that is all one -has to do once the ship is fairly loaded and under way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a>{209}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br /><br /> -<small>THE SICK ROOM.</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">In</span> all large houses there ought undoubtedly to be some provision for -infectious illness. Of course I know that there are excellent fever -hospitals, where one can be despatched at almost a moment’s notice, -where an ambulance will deposit you, and where the best nursing and -doctoring can be had at a most moderate outlay; and I, for one, highly -applaud those courageous souls who telegraph for the proper conveyance, -and depart, cutting themselves off from their homes, and at the same -time from any chance of handing on their complaints elsewhere, with one -fell swoop. But, much as I admire and applaud, nothing would, I fear, -induce me to follow their laudable example. To know how to be ill is a -fine art, and this accomplishment is quite thrown away on those who -regard one merely as a ‘case,’ and talk about one as if one were a mere -chattel left with them to repair, and return with the utmost speed. -Moreover, I maintain always that one’s bodily health depends immensely -on one’s surroundings, and that it would take double the time to get -better in a hospital than one would in one’s own home, where one could -see one’s friends out of the window and catch even a far-off whisper of -what was happening, and see even from the greatest distance some of -one’s old, accustomed sights. In an ordinary house, as at present -arranged, it would be absolutely impossible to have even the smallest -amount of infectious disease without running the greatest risk of -handing it on to all the rest of the family; but there could be in most -houses such arrangements made, were the builder a man of sense, that we -could have a hospital room, a room sufficiently isolated to ensure -immunity from infection, and yet near enough to do away with the -hopeless feeling which seizes the ordinary mortal the moment he hears he -has ‘something catching,’ and which enables him to understand what were -the feelings of the lepers of old, who had to flee from the sight of -their fellow-creatures, calling out aloud as they ran, ‘Unclean!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a>{210}</span> -unclean!’ Of course we ought not to feel angry with those who refuse to -come near us; indeed, had I my way no one should ever enter a house -where there was small-pox, scarlatina, or diphtheria; but we do resent -it somehow, despite our own common sense and the knowledge that we -should forbid the call our friends are so anxious not to make if they -attempted to come near us; and there is no more miserable feeling than -that which seizes us when we are told that we have a complaint in our -midst which may prevent us from being on the same footing as the rest of -mankind for several weary weeks, or may be months. But, before going -into the matter of what we should do when infection is in our house, let -me for a moment speak about the room we should all of us possess ready -for an emergency and into which we could retire were we ill at all, not -only ‘infectious’ but ill in such a way that we may require careful -nursing, many fires, and absolute quiet and rest.</p> - -<p>We should select a room at the top of the house unless we are building -our house; in that case we should have a couple of rooms added on at one -end, with a bathroom, lavatory, and tiny kitchen range in a third room. -This should make a sort of annexe to the house; it should be reached -from outside, and a passage, closed at one end with a plate-glass door, -should communicate with the rest of the house. I once knew such an -arrangement as this, and have always hankered after it, more especially -as it allowed one member of a family of eight children to have scarlet -fever at home without in the least endangering the lives of any others -of the family, while the mother could see the child daily through the -plate-glass door, although she could not nurse her herself. She ran -absolutely no risk; the plate-glass door was as safe as the solid wall, -and over it always hung a sheet steeped in carbolic acid. The child was -nursed among familiar surroundings; the doctor could visit it without -passing through the house; all the food could be placed so that the -nurse received it without the smallest risk, and, in fact, the -arrangement was so absolutely perfect that I cannot understand why -possessors of large houses and good means do not always keep some rooms -of the kind ready. No family can go through life without illness; it is -much easier to bear when all is prepared for it, and there is no<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a>{211}</span> -dreadful domestic upset to add to our natural anxiety and trouble when -illness comes upon us all.</p> - -<p>Now, given such houses as these, or even the single room quite at the -top of the house, which would be next best (and although these have -their disadvantages, they are generally quieter than any other), I -should proceed to decorate them prettily. I should paint the walls -first, and then I should paper them with the very cheapest blue paper I -could find. I think Maple’s 4½<i>d.</i> blue and white paper would be best, -and I should have ivory paint, the 4½<i>d.</i> a piece white and yellow -ceiling paper, and curtains of 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a yard serge in art blue -double. There is nothing here which cannot be replaced at a very small -cost; yet everything would look pretty and bright and fresh; and I -should have the floor parqueterie or else covered with matting and rugs. -The rugs could be removed in a moment if anything infectious were the -matter, while the matting could be disinfected or destroyed; but this -should remain. It smells fresh, it never accumulates the dust, and -always looks nice, in my opinion. In illness looks are everything, and -it is absolutely necessary for things to be neat and pretty; else the -patient will be worried to death without really understanding why he is -being worried.</p> - -<p>The bed should be a good wide one—a double one. This gives room for the -patient to move about in. It should have a wire mattress and a good hair -mattress at the top, four pillows, and a bolster, and it should have an -ample supply of venerable blankets for under use. Those for over use -should depend on what is the matter. New blankets and an eider-down are -lighter and warmer than anything, and if these are required they must be -had, even if afterwards they have to be destroyed. There should be no -washing or dressing apparatus visible (these can be kept in the -lavatory), but there should be two or three of the stained wooden chairs -sold by Pither, 38 Mortimer Street, W., which are comfortable enough for -the doctor and an occasional visitor or for the nurse on duty (too much -comfort often induces sleep), and which can be wiped over daily. There -should also be a wide, deep wicker armchair, nicely cushioned, and there -should be a long chair for the invalid, where he or she could rest while -the bed is made or remain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a>{212}</span> when convalescence has begun, and the bed may -be left for some hours at least. The long deck chairs are not suitable -for this purpose, as, being made of wicker, they creak in the most awful -manner, and are not comfortable in the least; but there are some long -narrow beds used as camp beds, which can be put up at any angle, and -have an iron frame filled in with sacking, on which a cushion is placed. -This makes the most comfortable lounge of which I know, and should be in -every sick room or room set apart for the purpose of nursing. They can -be bought at almost any ironmonger’s, or at any place which caters for -Volunteers or those who do any luxurious camping out. There should be -pictures on the walls, and a bookcase, and above all there should be a -screen of some kind or other. The pictures should be of the cheapest; -some of those lately issued by the ‘Illustrated News’ people, which -resemble old Bartolozzi prints, would do admirably, as the frames could -be disinfected, the glass washed, and the pictures themselves destroyed. -The bookcase could be varnished or re-Aspinalled, and the books burned. -Books are fearful methods of conveying infection, and carelessness about -this cannot be too harshly condemned. It is far better to destroy -everything, no matter how precious it may be, than run the very smallest -risk of passing on even what may be considered a mild complaint, for -that which is mild in one patient often causes death or great suffering -in another whose constitution is unfitted to cope with that special -disease.</p> - -<p>Once the room is ready and looking pretty, the next care must be to see -that it is kept properly aired and that nothing gets out of order, and -that all the things for use are in their places; then we need not think -any more about the room, which should be under the charge of the -head-nurse of the establishment; but, especially where there are -children, it is absolutely necessary that we should be prepared for -emergencies, and know exactly what to do should there be any necessity -for prompt action. There are a series of rules printed by the National -Health Society, which should be hung up in every nursery, and there -should be, moreover, a box containing simple remedies for sprains -(arnica), cuts (calendula), and burns (oiled silk, oil, and cotton -wool), and the nurse should keep the key. But, whatever happens, her -remedies can only be temporary ones; all her instructions<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a>{213}</span> should end -like those to the ambulance experts, ‘Send for the doctor.’</p> - -<p>Now, although I am certainly no advocate for constantly sending for the -doctor, and though I maintain that for small children a good nurse is -worth all the doctors under the sun, I do maintain that immense comfort -and safety are procured by an early visit from the doctor if we are -fearful that anything is wrong above the common. But I maintain equally -strongly that to be able to do this we must be very sure of our man; we -must be able to trust him, and we must be quite certain that he is an -honest man, who will not trespass on our credulity or fatten on our -fears, and who will have the necessary courage to tell us straight out -that we have nothing to fear and that we need not send for him again, or -at least that he will not come again until we do send for him. Above -all, let us, if possible, keep to the same doctor. Nothing is more -stupid than to change him, unless we are absolutely obliged to do so, -for he understands his patients’ constitutions if he has always had to -see after them. A new man cannot possibly do so at first, and much more -depends on a doctor understanding what he has to deal with, as far as -heredity is concerned, than one quite comprehends. People would not be -quite so ready to change their medical attendant as they very often seem -to me to be if they thoroughly believed in this.</p> - -<p>And now comes the great subject of nursing. I was much amused the other -day to see an indignant article from someone who abused the present -generation of mothers because they did not nurse their children -themselves in cases of infection, and because their first idea in an -emergency was to send for a nurse. Now I maintain that that is the very -wisest thing anyone can do. A mother, as a rule, is the worst person in -the world to nurse her own child; her fearful anxiety makes her nervous -and communicates itself to the patient, who ought never to know that -anyone is the least anxious about him. Her face betrays her, and her -shaking hands play her false, and on a thousand grounds it is far better -to have a trained nurse than to trust to unskilled though loving -nursing. A mother may never have had the smallest experience of nursing -until she is called upon to exercise any little talent she may have for -it on behalf of her nearest and dearest. She becomes frantically<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a>{214}</span> -miserable at symptoms a nurse understands, and are often enough symptoms -for good; she cannot raise a patient and give him food comfortably, as -does a woman trained to the work, and she cannot be the ‘half-doctor’ -all nurses ought undoubtedly to be, and indeed are nowadays, unless she -has had training; a course of training, by the way, which would be most -distasteful to many and absolutely impossible to the few.</p> - -<p>A nurse is born, not made; of that I am absolutely convinced from my own -experience. I do not think anything would make me personally fit to -nurse anyone, much as I should like to do it. Were I called upon to turn -nurse I could undoubtedly keep a room neat, smooth a pillow, and fold a -sheet over properly; but I stand by in amaze and watch a friend of mine -who has never been trained, but is a born nurse, who knows exactly how -to lift her patient, when and how to give beef-tea and medicine, and who -does easily and without effort what I cannot do at all, try as hard as I -may to follow her excellent example. She may be anxious, she never shows -it in the least; she may be tired to death, she does not look it; her -voice is always at the right pitch, and though she naturally is not -merry when there is danger, she maintains an even cheerfulness which is -delightful, and as restful to the patient as it is most undoubtedly -restful and reassuring to the patient’s friends. Now, sentiment -apart—and sentiment should never be considered in the very least degree -where real work has to be done—surely my friend is better able to -nurse, and a much safer nurse, than I should be; I, who have honestly -and seriously tried to overcome my stupidity and dread of sick people, -and who visited at a hospital regularly until I was utterly and -completely routed by seeing a man in a fit, since when I have avoided -hospitals and have quite come to the conclusion I should never be a -nurse. Therefore, is it not wiser for people in real cases of dangerous -illness to engage women who understand their work? I am convinced it is, -and strongly recommend anyone who is advised by the doctor to send for a -nurse to do so. He will always be able to tell them where to send; if -not, they can find any amount of addresses in that most useful and -excellent little book ‘Dickens’s Dictionary of London.’ But the doctor -should find the nurse in infectious cases, for, as a rule, he knows<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a>{215}</span> -someone with whom he has worked already, and of course these nurses have -to be sent for in a hurry; one does not make preparations for and look -out for fevers as one does when a small baby is expected; about that I -have said all I have to say in my other book, and shall not therefore -say anything here on that absorbing subject.</p> - -<p>Everybody should remember that illness, instead of deadening our -faculties, undoubtedly and at once heightens every one we possess. We -see more acutely most certainly; our smell and taste are exaggerated in -the most painful degree, and little annoyances and inferior cooking, -which we scarcely notice, or indeed notice not at all, when we are well, -try us most dreadfully. If we are to eat at all, all must be absolutely -clean and free from grease, and sent up spotlessly; there must not be a -suspicion of carelessness, or inevitably we shall turn against the food -and send it down untouched. Likewise, creaking shoes, rustling paper, -banging doors, crooked pictures, dusty tables and chairs must not exist -where there are invalids; and, above all, I am convinced that until a -person is actually and positively dead no one should talk about them -over their bodies, thinking they are insensible. I am certain that -insensible people, so called, are often far more sensitive than either -doctor or nurse will allow, and I know I myself have often heard things -which were never meant for me to hear when people have thought me -asleep, but when I have really simply been too tired to open my eyes; -and I shall never forget the expression that flitted across the face of -a dear old lady who was absolutely dying, who had not swallowed for two -days, or spoken for a great many more, when her daughter and maid spoke -of the mourning and funeral by her bedside heartlessly. She heard and -understood, although she undoubtedly had no power of letting us know -that she did so. And I, moreover, have been told by a cousin whose -recovery from a frightful attack of blood-poisoning was miraculous, and -who most certainly was merely saved from death by her doctor’s -unremitting care and the excellent nursing she received from him—he -never left her once for over forty-eight hours—that she knew absolutely -everything that went on, that she heard every single word and whisper, -and that she most certainly would never say a word in the presence of -any ‘insensible’ person that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a>{216}</span> could pain or agitate him in the least, -for when she appeared most insensible to on-lookers she was really far -more sensitive than she had ever been in all her life: her hearing was -absolutely acute, and every sense seemed on end, a feeling I can -corroborate from my own experience, though I have had no really very -serious illness, but have been ill enough to comprehend this -supersensitiveness and to understand how absolutely quiet and restful -should be the conditions of any invalid. It sounds absurd to say that -noise can kill anyone, but noise can; a sudden shock can undoubtedly -snap the thread of life, while noise constantly wearing on the brain can -do endless harm, especially to those who are predisposed to notice and -resent continually unpleasant sounds. And now I want to give a hint to -many among us who are abjectly miserable because they fancy they have -some incurable complaint, and yet have not the sense or courage to -really go to a good doctor and learn what is the matter, or indeed -whether there is anything the matter at all. The tiny lump which appears -on the neck may be nothing but a little swelling of a gland, or it may -be cancer; the dreadful pain that seizes the chest may be heart or it -may be indigestion; anyhow, whatever it is, it is far better to know -what is the matter than to wear oneself to death in wondering if we have -or have not a fatal disease.</p> - -<p>If we have not, well and good; if we have, what, after all, does it -matter? We have all fatal diseases, if it comes to that, and we are all -absolutely sure, unpleasant as is the fact, that we must die, and it is -something to know a little about the means and time by which we shall -have to shuffle off this mortal coil; and, moreover, we can undoubtedly -save ourselves endless trouble, and stave off the last day of our lives, -if we learn early in the day what we have to avoid, and how best we can -manage our lives, many having lost them entirely because they literally -had not the courage to go to the doctor, or went to him so late that he -had sorrowfully to confess he could do nothing, albeit he could have -done much had the patient come to him when she or he first began to -suspect there was anything amiss. I could, I am sorry to say, quote -examples from my own dear and intimate friends of the evil done by this -cowardly dislike to face the worst, and I therefore feel very strongly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a>{217}</span> -on the subject, and implore any of my readers who may suspect a lurking -disease to face it. It may be nothing but fancy; even so, the fancy -should be exorcised. It may be fatal; then the doctor will lay down -rules at once for guidance, and even if death is imminent it is just as -well to know this. There are things to do quietly, and one’s house to -set in order, albeit there is no need to make the lives of all one’s -relations burdens to them; neither need we make ourselves miserable -beforehand by everlasting contemplation of the inevitable parting. Be -quite sure, whether it comes at 100, at 20, at 40, we none of us realise -or relish the idea, but when a thing must be it is best to accept it -gracefully; people will remember us much more kindly if we go -cheerfully, and do not make them all wretched by kicking against the -pricks.</p> - -<p>And, above all, remember if you have a disease to keep the fact to -yourself and to your doctor; no one else wants to hear about it, and it -is interesting to no one else. If you become an invalid you can be both -cheerful and useful, although I know how hateful—how truly hateful—it -is to put up the once active feet, and cross the once busy hands, and -simply listen to what we once used to do. I know too that a good -listener is highly appreciated, and that many a happy home finds the -heart of the house round the invalid sofa, where can always be found -someone who is always at home, always disengaged, always willing to help -and anxious to hear, and who has a most profound interest in all that is -going on, despite the fact that she is out of the action, and can only -take a passive part in the life that seemed once as if it could never go -on without her.</p> - -<p>Moreover, an invalid should never become absorbed in herself, in her -treatment, her medicine, and the progress of her malady; having found -her doctor to be trustworthy, she should do as he tells her, and after -his visit she should utterly decline to speak of herself; she should -read, if possible work (how I do wish I could sew, or knit, or do -anything on earth save read and write!), and, above all she should be -absolutely nice and particular about her clothes, which should never -degenerate (unless it is absolutely necessary) into the dressing-gown -stage. Loose garments are untidy, and anything untidy or -‘dressing-gowny’<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a>{218}</span> assists the invalid idea, which should be kept in the -background as much as possible.</p> - -<p>Then there is another thing I should like to mention, and that is that -invalids should always have their affairs settled, and their wishes as -regards the future of their children or their property entirely and -properly understood—that is to say, understood and settled as far as -anything can be settled that is so unknown as the future—and while a -man is an absolute criminal who neglects to make his will, a woman is -equally foolish who, having strong feelings on subjects which will -concern her children, or may be the place of her burial, does not write -such a letter on the subject to her husband, to be opened after her -death, as shall lay all her wishes before him, but only as wishes: the -dead hand should never fetter anyone; at best it should only indicate -the course which the owner would have followed.</p> - -<p>In but one case should a man or a woman who has property put an emphatic -embargo on the future proceedings of the husband or wife, and then only -if there are children, and that is in the case of the husband or wife -remarrying. Under these circumstances the property should go absolutely -into the hands of trustees, to be administered entirely for the use of -the children, who are often enough defrauded of their father’s or -mother’s money, which goes to keep some lazy man or extravagant woman -who in their time may produce children to share that which was only -meant for the owner’s own offspring.</p> - -<p>This rule should never be departed from under any circumstances: it -should be absolutely out of anyone’s power to defraud children of what -was intended for them alone by the one parent who had money. This does -not prevent a man or a woman marrying again; they had the same chances, -if they wanted them, as they had before; but it does prevent the -children being robbed, as I have known them robbed, in more than one -case, by their silly mothers, who, yearning for the love and protection -they have lost, cast themselves into the arms of number two, doubly -flattered at being wooed when their first bloom has vanished, and find -themselves saddled with men who neglect the business they were supposed -to keep together, or squander the money saved so hardly and set aside so -carefully for those<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a>{219}</span> who cannot help themselves or stay the marriage -that will inevitably spoil their home life if it do not wreck their -futures.</p> - -<p>Let the wife have all control until she marries again; then someone else -should step in, as undoubtedly if a woman does not care to remember her -husband she will not care to assure herself and protect his children -from an extravagant, improvident man; and of course a man should be -treated in the same way; all control as long as he remembers his wife, -none when he ceases to do so and would maintain a successor out of the -money she meant for her children’s welfare.</p> - -<p>Now all this can be managed, and, indeed, should be managed, on the -wife’s part by a letter written to her husband, and on a man’s by a calm -conversation with his wife, who of course will vow that nothing on this -earth would induce her to marry again; but, unfortunately for her -argument, example can be brought against her of people who have said -just the same, who have wept in the marketplace and wrung their hands in -high places, ‘so to speak,’ and yet have married generally ‘for the sake -of the dear children’ before they had worn out their mourning, and -therefore her protestations can be gently set on one side with the quiet -statement that in that case the money will be in her own power. This can -show no lack of confidence in the wife; it simply shows a lack of -confidence in any possible future husband, and a consummate knowledge of -human nature, which forgets disagreeables speedily, alas! and accepts -hurriedly any chance that may present itself of obliterating a mournful -memory and changing one’s trappings of woe for newer and far more -beaming garments.</p> - -<p>I never could understand the sensitiveness that prevents some wives and -husbands from ever speaking of the future that must come when they will -be separated. There need be no continual discussion of the mournful -subject, but it should be discussed thoroughly when the will is made; it -need never be spoken of again until circumstances arise that may cause -some alterations to be made, or codicils added; anything that may be too -painful to discuss can be written in the final letter of farewell. Then, -if one has no accumulations of other folks’ letters, if one’s drawers -are tidy, one’s bills paid, and one’s conscience clear, there will<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a>{220}</span> be -nothing to make anyone extra-miserable after we have departed; we shall -have done our work, left everything in order, and shall leave nothing -but a pleasant memory behind us.</p> - -<p>Death as a rule is either made unduly awful, or is a time of the most -extravagant expenditure. The immense quantities of florists’ wreaths -sent nowadays have brought into disrepute one of the most charming ideas -possible, and the money once devoted to black plumes and undertaker’s -millinery of all kinds, to extravagant mourning and absurd woe, is now -squandered equally extravagantly and absurdly on wreaths, which cost -from 15<i>s.</i> to 30<i>s.</i> each, and which are simply thrown into the earth -to perish there untimely. Not for one moment would I deprecate the use -of flowers entirely, but let them be arranged by people who loved me, -and really bound them together because they knew I loved them. I would -rather spend money, or have money spent, on some useful memorial than on -a perishable wreath; and were I to die to-morrow I should say, Give me -as simple, as cheap a funeral as you can, and give the money to my pet -charity. It could be done in my name, and would be a practical -remembrance of me, and a far more useful one than hundreds of wreaths. -Why, I once saw a funeral in mid-winter where there were over 300 -wreaths. This would have almost built a ward in the Hospital for Sick -Children; it would certainly have helped the good Sisters at Kilburn, -and have done great good to the children there, who had always been -loved by her whose funeral it was. And in the same way would I deprecate -a ‘handsome’ coffin and elaborate headstone; neither can do any good to -the dead, and the memory of those we have loved can be perpetuated a -thousand times longer should we content ourselves with the simplest oak -coffin we can get and the plain cross, which will last as long as anyone -could wish it to, while the money saved can be given elsewhere. Everyone -has some pet scheme that could be benefited by his or her death; no one -but the undertaker and florist is benefited now.</p> - -<p>Another reason why we should not encourage the sending of an immense -quantity of flowers from our friends is, that there is something almost -ghastly about the false air of festivity given by the constant receipt -and opening of the parcels and boxes in which they are sent; in the -list<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a>{221}</span> of names which, must be written out, in order that all who sent -may be thanked or their names mentioned in the local paper; and in the -smothered remarks of the servants and children as they look at the -beauties, and compare the present one with the last one laid on the -coffin in the room which is so familiar and yet has become so fearfully -and wonderfully strange.</p> - -<p>But if flowers need not be sent (and I wish I could think all would send -the money instead to some special fund), letters should always be -written. They may not be read at first—nay may never be really read at -all—but the name of the writer will always be remembered warmly, and as -that of one who knew that sympathy is the most precious gift we can any -of us receive when we are in the depths, and that dark curtain descends -which seems as if it would lie for ever between us and the outside -world. Ah me! no matter who has died, it will rise again, and life will -flow on just the same as if we had never lost those who were so near and -so dear to us.</p> - -<p>Undoubtedly, too, though we should none of us ever call at the house to -inquire after a scarlet fever, small-pox, or diphtheria case, we should -let our friends know through the post that we are thinking of them. If -their child is ill we can make up tiny parcels to send. A few flowers; a -paper doll; a few old books, which can be burned as soon as read; -‘scraps’ to paste into books; odds and ends which cost nothing and can -be destroyed without a pang, often making a small child’s day of tedious -weariness and slow convalescence, an entirely different thing to what it -might have otherwise been; and the idea of what to-morrow’s post may -bring has, to my knowledge, more than once soothed a tired little girl -to rest; for she would go to sleep easier when she remembered that the -sooner the night was over the sooner the familiar ring would be heard, -and the lovely parcel would arrive, which might contain nothing more -costly than glass beads for stringing, or some roses and a cheap little -vase to put them in, but which was a never-ending source of wonder and -delight, until the child was well and able to take her place again among -her brothers and sisters.</p> - -<p>In the sick room, which may be the death chamber, sympathy, always -precious, becomes an absolute necessity, and a tedious day of pain is -often borne more courageously<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a>{222}</span> than it otherwise would have been, and -passes quicker than it otherwise might have done, if we know that people -are thinking of us and wondering if there is anything they can do to -lighten our time of trouble and to help us bear the inevitable misery of -it all. A sick person, or an invalid, should never be forgotten. I -verily believe half our dread of death comes from the fact that we know -that soon we shall be as if we had never been, and that our place shall -be taken by another and shall know us no more.</p> - -<p>When we are quite sure that there is an infectious disease in our house, -we ought to be compelled by Act of Parliament to register the fact at -some convenient place, where a list of houses similarly infected should -undoubtedly be exposed in a prominent place. None should be exempt from -this law, and the doctor should be the person responsible for the -registration, a severe penalty, moreover, being inflicted in any case of -wilful misrepresentation or of the withholding of proper information of -the outbreak.</p> - -<p>That the penalty is necessary is proved by the fact that I once knew a -country doctor speak of a bad attack of scarlet fever as a mild case of -rose rash, because he was abjectly afraid of losing the patronage of the -dame whose child it was, and who objected to the isolation which would -have been her portion had the truth been known. Still the disease -spread, owing to her selfishness and the doctor’s supineness, and the -truth came out, but not before she had done endless mischief and caused -the death of a child of one of her relations, who was sent into the -house with his nurse to inquire after the ‘rose rash,’ and who would -never have been allowed to pass even the same side of the street had his -mother known the truth; and both the doctor and the patient’s mother -were in consequence ostracised and isolated from their fellow-creatures -far more completely and for a much longer period than they would have -been had they boldly and at once told the truth.</p> - -<p>Nowadays, with the slight exception of the law that we must not wilfully -expose anyone suffering from an infectious disease in a public -conveyance, we may do pretty much as we like.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> We can send other -members of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a>{223}</span> family to church or the theatre; we can send our washing -to the public laundry, we may let our friends come and see us without -mentioning what is the matter, and, in fact, there is no law except the -moral law (which governs so few of us) to prevent us handing on the -complaint to as many people as we can comfortably manage to infect. The -registration would prevent this, as it would prevent us from stopping in -a fever-bed or (as happened to me not a month ago) from sending a cat to -be doctored in a house where there was a fatal case of scarlet fever; -and how that cat didn’t bring it back to us is more than I can -understand, but it did not. Albeit, any mother can understand what I -felt until I knew all chance of infection was over from that source at -all events.</p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Since the above was written a law has been passed to make -the notification of disease compulsory in London; so there is one step -already made in advance.</p></div> - -<p>It is the selfishness of other people that spreads so much disease, and -therefore the law should force people to be more considerate; then -disease will be stamped out undoubtedly, and we can exist without the -many qualms and dreads which harass us now, and certainly go far to make -life anything but worth living.</p> - -<p>Now, I think if I had an infectious complaint in the house my first idea -would be to keep people out of it. I should place a placard on the door, -and then leave folks to do as they chose in the matter. I should keep -the rest of the household to the grounds and garden, and I should—- -much as I should hate it—stay as much at home as I possibly could. Of -course the usual means of disinfection would be largely used; still no -one should run the risk of giving the complaint to any other soul.</p> - -<p>The doctor would be the person to say what is infectious and what is -not, but, despite the ‘Lancet,’ I am quite certain measles and mumps -cannot be carried and cannot be given to another, unless by the person -who actually has the complaint on him. About scarlet fever, small-pox, -and diphtheria there can be no doubt, but typhoid cannot be carried from -one to the other, although typhus most undoubtedly may be. But in any -case the doctor is the person to apply to, and if we have his consent we -can go about the world as usual; only we should always tell our friends -what is the matter, and if they object to us we must not be offended -with them. They are quite right to object, and we should not resent -their care for their own. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a>{224}</span> should not feel happy if we handed on the -complaint, and what should we experience if it had a fatal termination? -I, for one, cannot imagine.</p> - -<p>There is absolutely no place on earth which requires so much good -breeding to inhabit or arrange for properly as does the sick room; -therefore I trust I may be forgiven if I write rather fully on the -matter, more especially as this book is coming now to an end, and I -shall never write any more on the ever-fascinating subject of the home, -and I want to say a word to the patient.</p> - -<p>Remember, however bad it is for you to be ill, it is fifty times worse -for those who have to see you suffer, and that you must even at your -worst think about that and remember other people. Do not make their -anxiety greater by refusing food or medicine, or by disobeying your -doctor or nurse; for the time give yourself entirely into their hands, -and do not refuse or kick against their remedies, their rules and -regulations. Be absolutely calm, absolutely quiet, and, above all, if -you want to get well do not lose your hold on life if you can, and don’t -fret or become terrified. Fear and fretting are a doctor’s worst -foes—almost worse than disobedience. If you can recollect that whatever -is is best, and that you will recover if it is better that you should, -you will have a thousand chances that the irritable invalid can never -have, and, at all events, if you do die you will die courageously and -resignedly, and not screaming and kicking like a naughty child does -whose nurse fetches it away to bed before it thinks it is ready to -retire to rest. Its nurse knows best; and so does God, and if you are -fetched ten chances to one your work is done, and you can retire from -the scene gracefully even if you cannot feel you are quite glad to go.</p> - -<p>I am certain that the mind has a great deal to do with one’s body from a -small experience of my own when once I was saved from being very ill by -a mere exercise of will, rendered necessary by a sudden shock received -when one of my children was only two days old. My dear old nurse was in -my room at 12, and at 7 she was dead in the room next to mine, and I -knew all about it. There were the two eldest children—who were five and -three—running about calling for ‘Nan,’ from whom they had never been -separated five minutes since the hour they were born. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a>{225}</span> had a new -housemaid. I had seen in the looking-glass the monthly nurse drinking -brandy out of the bottle, and told Nan of this, and I was absolutely -alone as far as friends were concerned. Could any situation be worse? -And yet before I slept I had arranged for the children to go to London, -for the funeral to take place soon, and for the friends to be told. And -then began the struggle. My doctor was confined to the house with -bronchitis; circumstances made his partner impossible; the nearest -medical man on whom one could depend was fourteen miles away, and I knew -I must not be ill; and all that wretched night I kept saying this to -myself, repeating who I was, where I was, and what had happened, until I -felt I was master of the situation. Surely had I given in then I should -have had a fever; as it was, I occasionally felt my head was loose and -swimming round the room by itself, and it was only by repeating to -myself that this was impossible that I kept off the delusion, and after -a day or two I was nearly well, or at all events was not ill in the -accepted sense of the word, though my dear old doctor nearly wept when I -told him what I had endured, and never could understand to his dying day -why I had not had a serious illness, which I undoubtedly must have had -had I not staved it off in the manner I have just described. Therefore, -I am convinced those patients have the best chance of recovering who are -quiet, obedient, and who, furthermore, try their best to live, and -believe that there is something worth living for.</p> - -<p>And now a few words on that saddest of all subjects, a death, and I must -devote my last chapter to more cheerful subjects—namely, how best to -get strong and well again once we have emerged from the sick room, and -are pronounced fit and able to go for a change.</p> - -<p>When death has actually occurred I would strongly advocate that those -who have loved and nursed the dead may prepare the body for the last -resting-place. It can be gently washed and attired in the clean -night-dress, and the hands can be crossed on the breast. Someone who can -be trusted—not a mere hireling—should be present when the last -measurements are taken; then the room should be at once turned into a -mortuary chamber, the bed hung with white, candles lighted head and -foot, which should not go out until the funeral day, and fresh<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a>{226}</span> flowers -should be kept there; these should be changed every single day; and, -furthermore, the windows should be left a little open, and on no account -should the dead person be left unwatched for a moment until the coffin -is screwed down; this should never be done until there is no doubt that -death has ensued, and then the sooner the funeral is the better; though -I trust some day cremation may be universal, then there can be no dread -of the awful fate of one who is buried alive. That ought to be made -impossible in all cases by the doctor performing some simple surgical -operation—I think it is the dividing of some artery in the arm.</p> - -<p>If the dead person has been attached to any particular church in his or -her life-time the coffin should be placed in that church the night -before the funeral, so that the last night above ground the body may -rest in that hallowed spot. Of course it should be watched there, and -the candles and flowers should be arranged as in the mortuary chamber, -and the first part of the service should be read there; not by a -stranger, but by the family priest of whom I have spoken before; and -then when the ceremony is over no one but the clergyman should return to -the house with the mourners, who should separate and go to their own -rooms. There should be no general family meal that day at least; -certainly there should be no gathering even of relations and friends -round the dinner-table. I have experienced more than one of these awful -meals, and I can truthfully say that there is nothing more terrible on -earth; people must talk, they cannot remain silent, they must eat and -drink, and the <i>pseudo</i>-festivity and the endeavour to keep off and -avoid <i>the</i> subject are so truly ghastly, that under no circumstances -can I understand such a thing can be in any way necessary in the least. -Surely as unnecessary is also the reading of the will. What concerns the -public can be told the public, the lawyers should manage the rest. Under -no circumstances should the display of evil passions and disappointments -be allowed that almost inevitably follows this institution.</p> - -<p>Let the burial-day be a day of meditation and quiet. In the evening the -bereaved family can gather alone and talk over what has to be done. Then -the next day let all the clothes be sent to the Kilburn Orphanage; and -the personal<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a>{227}</span> property distributed according to the wish of the dead. -Let the death room be entirely repapered and painted, and, if possible, -refurnished; and, above all, do not be afraid to speak of those who have -gone. I know how I should resent being forgotten; and perhaps those with -whom we have just parted may hunger to hear all about us still; at all -events, we cannot know they do not. <i>De mortuis</i> may mean a great deal -more than we think; it is doubly evil, surely, to speak aught but good -of the dead if we remember not only the defencelessness which caused -that proverb, but the idea that all we may say about them we say in -their dumb presence, and before those who are silent, and cannot speak -in their own defence.</p> - -<p>Death is a dreadful thing because of its silence, its separation. Yet if -we meet it patiently—if we believe our dead are still within reach—we -can bear it, more especially if we do our best to carry out their -wishes, and do not, the moment they are gone, begin to reverse all their -ideas and plans, and to forget them as speedily as may be; while, when -our own time comes, we can face it bravely, feeling we are setting a -good example, and leaving behind us nothing to pain or embarrass anyone, -nothing but a bright remembrance, a good record, that may sooner or -later be of use to others after us.</p> - -<p>The sick room has more than once been the heart of the house; the death -chamber in its turn can become, if properly thought of, the very gate of -heaven itself.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br /><br /> -<small>WHERE SHALL WE GO FOR A CHANGE?</small></h2> - -<p class="nind"><span class="smcap">I think</span> there is nothing that tries an ordinary householder more than -answering the question with which I have headed this, my last chapter.</p> - -<p>In the first place, as a rule, few men consider that a change can -possibly be required. It seems only the other day that they returned -from the last uncomfortable sojourn at some unhappy seaside town, and -they are quite convinced<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228"></a>{228}</span> that a second martyrdom cannot be necessary -just at present. In the second, when change is really wanted, no one -knows where to go; and in the third, if the place be selected, and the -rooms taken, the unfortunate creature is sure to meet someone who knows -all about it, and proceeds to make his friend profoundly miserable by -telling him that that especial town is only decent at the very time of -year when he cannot possibly go there; that he knows for certain an -epidemic is raging there; and that the rooms taken for ‘six weeks -certain’ are in the very worst part both for health and comfort, and -that he can but wish him well home again. And the unfortunate traveller -starts depressed and nervous; and having made up his mind to be -miserable, is so, and derives no benefit whatever from that which was to -do him and his soul an immense amount of good.</p> - -<p>Now I cannot help thinking that English people, as a rule, do not show -the smallest common sense in the manner they manage their holidays, more -especially, of course, among the middle classes; the upper portion of -which often enough have a tiny cottage somewhere, of which they speak -grandly as ‘my country house,’ and the address of which is inscribed on -their cards, and mentioned in the ‘blue book.’ And they fly to this the -moment the weather becomes in the least warm, remaining there until they -are driven back by the falling leaves and chilling fogs of an October in -the country; and then wonder they are so little benefited. Why, they -have not had any change; no more, at least, than those a shade lower in -the social scale, who go to the same watering-place year after year, -spend their mornings on the beach, their afternoons in slumber, or a -‘country walk,’ and their evenings on the pier or parade, and who see -the same people, say the same things, and do the same actions -mechanically as they do in town, only perhaps in a smaller space, and -under far more uncomfortable circumstances.</p> - -<p>The very stupidest thing on earth, to my mind, is the annual sojourn of -a large family of small children, accompanied by their parents, to the -orthodox seaside rooms or lodgings. In the first place, the parents, -children, and nurses are very much too much together; the annoyances of -the predatory habits of the landladies spoil Materfamilias<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229"></a>{229}</span>’ temper; the -servants are disorganised, and imagine that because the family makes -holiday they are to be in some measure allowed to do just as they like, -and much resent being unable to make excursions and ramble at large, -whether it is convenient or not for their mistress to spare them. And, -indeed, I do not know a more hard-worked, driven creature than the -ordinary Materfamilias at the seaside, more especially if she has left -her own large airy house, with its nurseries and schoolrooms, and taken -lodgings at a fashionable spot, where every inch of space costs pounds, -and where she can never rid herself of her family for one moment.</p> - -<p>It is in her defence that I suggest that change of air should be -obtained in a far easier and more satisfactory manner than it can be -under the circumstances of which I have been speaking. As long as the -children are quite small, I most strongly advise any mother to send them -to the seaside in the end of May, and let them remain there until the -first or second week in July. She should send them to some -plainly-furnished cottage under the care of a lady who would be thankful -to superintend them for the mere fare, change, keep, &c., that would be -such a boon to her; and she should send their nurses with them. In this -early portion of the year lodgings are cheap and clean, and so are -provisions; the days are longer, the heat not so great as later on; and -the children would come back when London was thinning and the parks and -streets safe for them to be in; and at the end of July, having settled -the children in, the father and mother could go for the complete change -and rest they both need so greatly, and which it is impossible for them -to have, encumbered by their household duties and cares, which must be -taken with them if they move their servants and children <i>en masse</i> to -some seaside place for August and September.</p> - -<p>Very young children, if proper nurses and superintendents are found for -them, do not require the companionship we shall not be able to give them -later on if we wear ourselves out in their service when they are very -small. By this I do not naturally mean that children should be neglected -or left entirely to the mercy of hirelings. Far be it from me to suggest -anything so dreadful; but I do maintain that for six weeks of the year -they would be quite as<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230"></a>{230}</span> well at the seaside without their parents as -they would be with them, more especially if the cottage they are sent to -is well known and the people who keep it are acquaintances, while of -course both the lady superintendent and the nurses should not be new, -but should be thoroughly tested by some amount of service before they -are trusted.</p> - -<p>It is better, should we determine to send the children away as I have -suggested, to pay so much per head for all the board and lodging -expenses combined. No servant, and indeed very few governesses, can be -trusted to ‘housekeep.’ I cannot tell why, but the moment they are -allowed to order the food and make purchases for the household, they all -become most wildly extravagant, and have no more notion of managing than -they have of flying. They may, of course, have the truly British notion -that holiday-making and over-eating must go hand-in-hand, and proceed to -demonstrate this by the exorbitant demands made upon one’s purse. -Anyhow, whatever the reason, it is an axiom that housekeeping cannot be -trusted to either, and that we should make arrangements for board as -well as lodging unless we wish to be fairly appalled by the weekly -bills. As an illustration, I may mention that the only time I sent my -children to the sea with the governess, allowing her to cater for them -all, the bills she sent me home for herself, the German maid and three -children, were exactly treble what I paid for ourselves and the same -number of children and six servants, and that she did not consider it -improper to give 6<i>s.</i> for a chicken and 8<i>s.</i> for a pound of grapes. -From this my readers will perceive that I am warning them out of my own -experience. And this governess, moreover, was an elderly woman who had -lived with us a great many years, and really had in some measure our -interest at heart. Therefore I am convinced neither governess nor -servants can make good managers; they are always provided for as far as -food is concerned; they never have to provide, and therefore know -nothing about it.</p> - -<p>I think, once we have discovered a spot that really suits the children, -it is best to keep to that, as children simply require good sands and -good air, and do not trouble themselves about scenery. Deal is -absolutely delightful as regards air, but the beach is unsafe and -pebbly, and has no sand; Margate is quite perfect; so is Westgate; -while<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231"></a>{231}</span> Swanage in spring leaves nothing to be desired except for -children who require bracing air; then Swanage is not for one moment to -be compared to either of the places I have named, which are also near -enough to town for the parents to run down and see the children should -they wish to do so, and, indeed, as they ought to do, to learn how they -are getting on.</p> - -<p>Personally I know nothing of the east coast, but I believe there are -plenty of little places about there where the children would be happy, -well, and safe; and I should recommend anyone before finally choosing -the summer home of the children to make an exhaustive survey of the -English coast, and, having found one place which will suit, then to -stick to that until the children are twelve years old. Then one would -have to begin to alter one’s plans a little, more especially if the boys -go to school and are only at home in the holidays; then the children and -parents must go out together, else they will never meet, and will grow -up like strangers to each other.</p> - -<p>During the minority, so to speak, of the children, the parents would be -wise to spend their holidays in learning which would be the nicest -places to take the children to when they are beginning to grow up; they -should make and keep notes of excursions, advantages, prices, and -houses, and should be able to refer to them in a moment, when they have -to decide on the place where they are to spend their holiday in; they -must not trust to their memory, the best of memories will not retain the -names of the house agents, the position of the different streets, and -the aspect of the different houses, while the notes would be always -there to refer to, and would be of immense service to them in more ways -than one.</p> - -<p>Now, having made up their minds to the change, it is absolutely -necessary that a house, not rooms, should be taken, if anyone is to -enjoy the holiday at all.</p> - -<p>There can be no freedom and very little enjoyment, and there is great -risk of infection at the seaside unless the house is shared by someone -we may happen to know, if we take only a part of a house. We may have a -fidgety mortal who sends up twenty times a day to ask our children to be -quiet, or we may have a screaming, badly managed baby near us, a piano -which plays just when we don’t want it to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232"></a>{232}</span> play, or we may meet on the -stairs a convalescent from some childish complaint, who may hand it on -to our children, and bring our holiday to an abrupt conclusion with -measles or whooping-cough. Then there are always the landlady, the -larder difficulties, and the horrors of being waited on by strange -servants, generally most inferior ones, and always those who cannot and -do not understand our ways. Therefore I maintain that a house is a <i>sine -quâ non</i>, and that if we cannot afford to take one and go away -comfortably we had better remain at home; if we leave we may get fresher -air, we shall have the necessary change, but the change will be for the -worse, and the good the fresher air may do will be more than outbalanced -by the continual rasping worry of arranging, and very likely battling -with the servants, who resent the landlady’s interference, and won’t do -any more work than they can help, under the mistaken idea that the -house-servants are to wait on them, and in the endless worries caused by -the disappearance of one’s food, and the disagreeable feeling that -everything one touches has probably been well ‘pawed over’ by the -lodging-house maid, if not by the mistress herself.</p> - -<p>If, therefore, as I remarked before, we cannot afford to go away -comfortably we had better remain at home, going away in detachments if -the doctor thinks that the weaker members must have sea air; in that -case visits can always be managed, for everyone almost has relations or -friends in the country, or knows of some nice family who will take in a -stray child or two and ‘do for them’ with their own; while if the boys -are away at school, they are quite satisfied to return to their own -haunts, while no end of excursions can be made from London and in and -round London, which is, it must be confessed, just a little hot in -August, and smells just a little of over-ripe fruit and dead cabbage -leaves, but is positively delightful in September with its soft skies -and its wonderful effects of cloud and sunshine, and which has always -something amusing to show those who really appreciate the most -delightful and picturesque city in the whole world. I love my London, -even in August, when the parks are empty of fashionable people, but full -of the most beautiful flowers and palms, which only those who remain in -town in that unfashionable month ever see at their prime; and despite -the heat and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233"></a>{233}</span> odours in the streets, I would rather be in London -than in a cramped lodging at the sea, where I was inundated with -children, worried by bad service, and had none of my own belongings -about me; and, in fact, had not time to read or sit alone to enjoy -myself in the peace and quiet that are absolutely necessary to make a -holiday even endurable.</p> - -<p>I hope my readers will not think I am writing of what I do not know when -I say that London in August and September is quite as beautiful and -entrancing as it is in the heart of the season. I have been for the last -seven years constantly in the beloved city in those unfashionable -months, and I unreservedly advise anyone in want of a real change to go -up to town then. They will learn and see more then than at any other -time; they will not be hurried; they will be able to see everything -quietly, and will really see what they never can when the roads are -crammed with carriages and the streets with people—<i>i.e.</i> how beautiful -London is, and how many things she possesses we never dream of when we -are simply rushing from occupation to amusement, and are only thinking -of our work or pleasure. However, as I cannot expect all to believe me, -or to share my enthusiasm for the streets and chimney-pots that I adore, -I will simply now advise my readers how to proceed once they have made -up their minds to go away. If possible they should let their own house; -if not, they should endeavour always to keep to the same caretaker who -should, if possible, be married to a policeman and have a dog, but no -children; the furniture should be covered over, and ‘put to bed’ by the -upholsterer, who understands how to prepare for possible moth and damp, -and who will not make an exorbitant charge for what will, as a rule, -prevent most of the things from being spoiled. Fires should be ordered, -no matter what the weather may be, in rotation all through the house, -for one that is uninhabited, and in which very little gas, if any, will -be burned, always becomes damp in our climate; while it would be wise to -have the gas cut off at the meter entirely. We should save a great deal -of waste; and as caretakers are used to lamps in their own abodes, we -should run no risk of fire, not as much as we do when we leave the gas -for the use of those who often enough have never had any<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234"></a>{234}</span> control over -it on their own account, and so have not learned how to save it or even -use it.</p> - -<p>No valuables should be left in the house; all should be sent to the -bank; and we should naturally take our plate with us for use. But, -having taken our house by the sea, we should in some measure know what -it wants, and we should invariably have ornaments, photographs, &c., to -take with us to brighten up the house and to make it home-like; while -the children must take their story-books, work, and playthings. We must, -in fact, prepare in every way we can for a rainy day; rain must fall, -and if the children have their books and toys, and their own rooms, they -will be as happy, and be no more of a nuisance by the sea than they are -at home; at least, if they are, it will be the fault of the parents and -not of the unfortunate children themselves.</p> - -<p>I have always had three very large wicker baskets set apart for using at -similar crises of our existence. One holds the household linen, another -the nursery and schoolroom toys and books, and the third is set apart -for loose cretonne covers, serge table-cloths, and any amount of -photographs and ornaments to render the temporary house home-like; for -even if I find my new domicile replete with ornaments, I always put them -all away at once. Ornaments are always priceless when the reckoning -comes to be taken; they can’t possibly be harmed if they retired into a -cupboard the moment we arrived, and only emerged from their seclusion -the day we leave.</p> - -<p>If the china and glass in a house are really expensive and good, I also -put them all away, and I purchase for our own use the very cheapest ware -I can find. China and glass are so very cheap nowadays, that it is far -better to do this than be made to pay fabulous sums for the owner’s -china, which seems to one so hideous, and is only costly because in -these artistic days of ours it is impossible to match it.</p> - -<p>The contents of my basket soon make even a hideous room much better; -while one feels that one need not always be on the look-out, as one must -be to protect another person’s property if one does not take these -precautions; but, as a rule, furnished houses are so absolutely -unfurnished and ugly, I am thankful to cover up what I find,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235"></a>{235}</span> and so in -some measure mitigate the horrors of my surroundings, by putting about -as many of my own belongings as I can take with me. We also, when we go -away, always put at the top of each separate person’s box that -individual’s own sheets, pillow-cases, and eider-down quilt; and I never -go away without some spare pillows, and any amount of cushions. This -sounds luxurious; but why should we be uncomfortable because we are not -at home? On the contrary, because we are not we ought to take more care -than ever that all shall be as nice as we can make it; while, the sheets -and pillow-cases being ready, the servants have no trouble in settling -in the first evening. They open the boxes and make the beds at once, -with sheets we know are aired; and therefore, even in the confusion that -is generally apparent at these times, we have no risk of spending our -first night between damp sheets.</p> - -<p>Another thing we should provide ourselves with is a hamper of groceries, -and, if we are to arrive late, with sufficient cooked food to supply the -establishment for the night and next morning. Each servant should be -told off to certain duties, and no hurry or confusion should be allowed. -All, except one box in which to put the last things, should be locked -and strapped the night before, and the luggage should be at the station -in good time; the tickets should all be procured; or at least ordered, -the day before; and if these simple precautions are taken the journey -need be hardly any trouble at all. It must be some, but nothing to speak -of, when the servants know their work, are ready in advance, and are not -allowed to forget anything, not even the harmless necessary cat.</p> - -<p>Now a few words about the animals: and let me beg anyone who has cats -and dogs to take these poor things with them. We always do; the dogs go -with the horses, the cats with the servants, and they never attempt to -stray. They are absolutely and abjectly miserable if we leave them at -home, even with a caretaker; while they cost nothing to take, and are -happy with us, just as, in fact, they are at home. I have nothing to say -about or to those people who are wicked enough to ‘stray’ their cats, or -leave them shut out in the garden, to forage for themselves. They must -be such cruel wretches, that I hope they may not even read this book; -but many people,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236"></a>{236}</span> possessed of the kindest hearts have no compunction in -leaving their cats to caretakers, little understanding how these poor -things pine for the human companionship to which they are accustomed, -and after which they long pitifully. Now a cat costs nothing, a dog very -little, to take; so I do hope all who can will consider if their holiday -cannot be shared by their dumb friends. I am sure they will never regret -it if they make up their minds to take them with them.</p> - -<p>When once settled in the temporary house, all should be found out that -there is to be found out about the points of interest in the -neighbourhood, and all these should be visited; as a rule, a local -guide-book is very little real use; but one should always be obtained -and studied in connection with the county history. One’s holiday is a -thousand times more profitable and pleasant if we see all there is to be -seen, and do not waste our time listening to an inferior band, or -hanging about on the pier, wearing smart clothes, which are entirely out -of place by the sea.</p> - -<p>Indeed, blue serge should be the only wear, as far as young people are -concerned, with flannels for boys. I remember how wretched we used to be -over our light print and muslin frocks; in consequence of which I have -always taken care our children should never have anything that they had -to think about on the shore. Half our pleasure used to be spoiled by the -idea that we should have to pay for it by being scolded by our governess -for the sandy, wet garments, inseparable from any real play by the -fascinating sea. Now, with the high india-rubber boots we buy at -Scarborough, and serge skirts, and under-drawers of serge, no girl can -possibly harm, paddle how she may; while the same high boots and serge -or flannel suits make the boys quite happy. The boots protect the feet -from possible cuts, and do away with any hygienic difficulties; many -people refusing to allow their children to paddle because feet should -not be wet if the heads cannot be wet too; the feet do not get wet in -these high boots, and therefore, provided with them, the last objection -to paddling is quite done away with; and without paddling, what is the -seashore? Very little to the children, who cannot have too much of this -most delightful amusement. The sea is the best holiday companion one can -have. I therefore<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a>{237}</span> most strongly advise all who are bent on a holiday -for the children to take them to the sea and not to the inland country; -where, if it be wet, mud keeps them prisoners, whereas by the sea rain -dries up at once, and there is always something to look at; for, of -course, the ideal holiday house faces the sea, and has a good view of -whatever is going on.</p> - -<p>And now, having said all I can about the children’s holiday, let me add -just a few words about sharing the holiday, if in any way possible, with -some child or someone who cannot afford to go away at all, unless a -friendly invitation manages this for them.</p> - -<p>I have written very little about charities in this book, but I could -have set down much on the subject, and I may say that the truest of all -charities is that which quietly and unostentatiously helps that most -unfortunate, most deserving of all classes—the poor lady or gentleman, -who is too well-born to be assisted with money, but who requires help a -thousand times more than the very, very poor to whom one can give a few -shillings. No one ever thinks of the over-worked, underpaid curate or -the orphan child. We could, when we take our house for the holidays, -surely reserve a corner for them. They are pleasant visitors, and we -shall have the delightful feeling that while our children have been -gaining strength we have helped others to do the same. Most people -contrive to have visitors while they are away; let them be those who -would not have gone away at all had we not asked them to come to us -while we are at the sea. They can generally manage the railway fare, -while of course we can judiciously contrive that they are not forced -into any expense for excursions if we take them; we can easily manage -this if we have the smallest tact, while of course we must not affront -them by boldly offering to pay their fare, but if we are accustomed to -go first-class, and yet know third-class would suit our friend’s pocket -better, we can all go third boldly; it will not hurt us one bit, and it -will save them from the unpleasantness of spending more than they can -afford, or of being paid for by us, which would be terrible for them.</p> - -<p>There is still another holiday of which I wish to speak, and then I -shall lay down my pen and close my book, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238"></a>{238}</span> that is the yearly -honeymoon-holiday all husbands and wives should try and manage to take -together.</p> - -<p>Nothing so keeps up the bond of affection between them as this, -particularly when both are busy people and see nothing at all of each -other during the day, and are often too tired in the evening to speak at -all except on the most necessary subjects; and even if they are not -tired there are always the boys and girls about, once they have begun to -grow up, and there is no time they can call their own—none in which -they can talk as they used to do—none in which they can discuss the -children’s future or talk about their own plans and hopes and wishes. Of -course I am told many husbands and wives are only too thankful to be -spared the chance of a <i>tête-à-tête</i> that must be nothing save a bore. I -maintain that this is not in the least degree true; that those who have -been married many years have far more in common, far more to say to each -other, than the young folks just starting on life’s journey can possibly -have to say, and that the yearly holiday taken together does more to -make the domestic car move along gracefully and lightly than anything -else I know. The wife is relieved from the unceasing ordering of the -dinner and planning of everything, while the husband once more finds -himself responsible for all the little details, and delights once again -to have his wife to himself and to look after and wait upon as in the -days of old; while the children are safe at their lessons or looking -after the house in their absence; and once more there is a real holiday -feeling in the air, and they can fancy themselves young and starting on -life’s journey hand-in-hand over again. There is nothing so amusing to -me as the discovery that grown-up daughters and sons have no idea that -their father and mother can really want to be alone together, or that -they can possibly prefer each other’s society to that of their friends -or their own children. But, my dear young people, it is the case; and -though of course your parents are always delighted to have you with -them, they do occasionally wish to be alone together. The yearly holiday -allows for that, as does an occasional holiday together during the year; -and these holidays should never be forgotten or omitted. They should be -kept up vigorously, and no blandishments from our children should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239"></a>{239}</span> -allowed to break in upon the <i>solitude à deux</i>—the honeymoon-holiday -should be taken together or not at all.</p> - -<p>And now, reluctantly and regretfully, I must say farewell to those with -whom I have conversed so long in these pages. I feel this book has not -the light-hearted gaiety with which Angelina and Edwin plan out their -newly-married life, and with which they start out to furnish their -little home, in ‘From Kitchen to Garret;’ but if I am more serious here -it is because life grows more serious as one grows older, as one -realises how much there is to do and how difficult it is to steer the -bark freighted with one’s growing-up children, and with more money to be -spent judiciously, a larger house to be managed, so that we may do as -much good as we possibly can, so that it may give as much happiness to -as many as can be managed, and in some measure so exist as to leave the -world immediately within its influence just a little bit better than we -found it.</p> - -<p>We must realise, wherever we are, that we influence someone, perhaps -very many people, either for good or for evil. It is no use to bury our -heads in the sand, and pretend that no one need be influenced by us -unless they like, and that it is not our fault if they are. It is our -fault, and we cannot get rid of our responsibility in this way; while if -we boldly accept our fate, and do our duty manfully, we shall have our -reward, more especially if we endeavour not to know the ‘best’ people -because we crave for social exaltation, and to mix with those who resent -our intrusion and laugh at our pretensions, but to associate with those -whose noble minds and good thoughts and bright intellects will help our -own, and assist us on our mental progress through the world; and to have -as friends, not those who can give us dinner for dinner, ball for ball, -but those to whom we can give pleasure they would never have did we -refuse to open our doors to them, and to those whose large hearts and -brilliant minds influence ours for good, and lead us insensibly along a -path of peace and safety.</p> - -<p>The truest socialism should begin in the perfect home; the socialism -which shares or administers but does not disperse or destroy; the -socialism which opens the park gates to the poor, or the -picture-galleries to those who could never see anything were it not for -the action of the owner, that never receives a benefit without in some -measure<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240"></a>{240}</span> sharing it with a poorer brother, and that finally has a noble -end in life; nay, the noblest of all, that of leaving the world a little -better for one’s having lived and loved and worked and suffered in it.</p> - -<p>By these rules should the home be formed; in these paths should the -children be led, who should never be allowed for one moment to despise -those they may consider below them in the social scale; who should -always be taught to share their flowers, their shells, their holidays -and pleasures with others; and who should one and all be brought up to -do something in life, something to assist the toiling millions around -us, something to do good to someone besides themselves. Of course this -is hard and anxious work; work, could we have realised it was before us -when we so lightly accepted our fate, and laid together the foundations -of a new home, we might never have found courage to take up; but it is -the work set before every married man and woman in the world. They can -either accept it or reject it; but if they do leave it alone, the undone -work will bring its own punishment in the unhappy wicked children, and -the wrecked and miserable home that will take the place of that which -might have been the home which is the rule, not the exception, in -England, and that we can all have if we have powers of endless work in -us, and realise from others’ experience what is before us all. Then, -when the curtain falls, when the hands part which have held each other -so fondly, so faithfully, all through the journey, the worst parts of -which have been gilded by the unfailing love which is God’s best gift, -the one who goes can go boldly into the darkness, content to leave all -to that Higher Power who has helped them so gallantly all through the -struggle, while the one who stays knows that the link still binds them -together, and will draw them some day back to each other again. When -love can do this, when love can build, maintain, and keep our homes -together, as love does, and as only love can, who shall dare to sneer -and laugh at it, and looking at such homes dare ask sarcastically if -marriage be a failure?</p> - -<p>Marriage never is, never can be, a failure, if the home is a true home, -not an abode of vanity, an entertaining house, for gaiety and waste; and -it is to help others just a little more from my own experience of the -happiest of all<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241"></a>{241}</span> homes—my own—that I have written this other book -about the household and all that appertains to it, which I now leave to -my good friends and readers, content to feel that they will read me -kindly, knowing of old how kind they can be to one who has said as much -to them on this all-fascinating subject as I have.</p> - -<p class="c"> <br /> <br /><small> -PRINTED BY<br /> -SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br /> -LONDON.</small></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242"></a>{242}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243"></a>{243}</span> </p> - -<hr /> - -<h2 class="courr"><a name="ADDRESSES" id="ADDRESSES"></a>ADDRESSES</h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Smee & Cobay</span>, Finsbury Pavement, E.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Wallace & Co.</span>, 151 Curtain Road, E.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">E. E. Pither & Co.</span>, 38 Mortimer Street, E.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Kay & Sons</span>, Burnley Mills, Burnley, Lancashire.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Jackson & Sons</span>, 199 High Street, Borough, S.E.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Haines & Co.</span>, 83 Queen Victoria Street, E.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Land & Co.</span>, 92 Cannon Street, E.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Essex & Co.</span>, Albert Mansions, Victoria Street, S.W.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Oetzmann & Co.</span>, Hampstead Road, N.W.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maison Helbronner</span>, 300 Oxford Street, W.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Graham & Biddle</span>, Graham House, Oxford Street, W.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Colbourne & Co.</span>, 82 Regent Street, W.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">B. Burnet & Co.</span>, King Street, Covent Garden, W.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Burr & Elliott</span>, Oxford Street, W.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">G. Faulkner Armitage</span>, Esq., Stamford House, Altrincham, Cheshire.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Edinburgh Life Assurance Company</span>, 11 King William Street, E.C.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Giles & Co.</span>, 19 Old Cavendish Street, W.</p> - -<p>Messrs. <span class="smcap">Hoskyns & Co.</span>, Ben Trovato Red Works, Darlington, Durham.</p> - -<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">M‘Clelland</span>, 33 Warwick Road, Maida Hill, W.</p> - -<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Thomas</span>, Decorator, Bowdon, Cheshire.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244"></a>{244}</span></p> - -<p><a name="transcrib" id="transcrib"></a></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="padding:2%;border:3px dotted gray;"> -<tr><th align="center">Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:</th></tr> -<tr><td class="c">hundreds of unformed units=> hundreds of uniformed units {pg 114}</td></tr> -<tr><td class="c">and, as they as generally shrink in the was=> and, as they generally shrink in the was {pg 147}</td></tr> -<tr><td class="c">allowing great familarity=> allowing great familiarity {pg 167}</td></tr> -<tr><td class="c">they are fourteen and and not a day before=> they are fourteen and not a day before {pg 179}</td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/back.jpg" width="313" height="500" alt="cover" title="[Image -of the book's back cover unavailable.]" /> -</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Nooks and Corners, by J. 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