By "MEDICUS" (Dr. GORDON STABLES, M.D., C.M., R.N.).
This well-known magazine of ours, the dear old "G. O. P.," is read wherever in this wide world the English language is understood, and it is this very fact that puzzles and worries me a good deal when I am commencing to write a paper for my readers. You see it is like this: things I may say, and advice I may give, may not suit everyone, as the "G. O. P." finds its way into cottage as well as mansion-house. I have seen its welcome face while travelling in my caravan, in many a stately home in England and in many a feudal castle in bonnie Scotland; and I know too it is read by the farmer's fireside in this country and by the ingle-side in the far north, when the snow-wind goes howthering round the house and mourns in the chimney like the sound of sea and wind on a surf-beaten shore.
And I "dinna forget" either that I have many thousands of lassies in the city, who have but little time to open it till eventide or even till Sunday itself.
Nor do I forget that the things I tell girls at home here to do, may not altogether apply to those in Australia or Africa. Never mind, I try to do my best. Who can do more?
And now, first and foremost, I must wish you all a very healthy New Year. This is from my heart. Dinna forget that. For, if you have health, you are bound to have happiness, so long as shocks of grief and real sorrow keep aloof. Even then, if you are strong, you will be better able to withstand these, than if you were chicken-hearted and weakly.
There is one symptom of weakness, by the way, that is often over-looked. A girl may be as fresh and bonnie as a thistle or a rose, yet if she is too sensitive and too sentimental she cannot be really well. Over-sensitiveness may be caused in a good many ways, but it is very apt to lead on to hysteria, and this is a very serious ailment.
I am not going to repeat to you all the various rules of health I have already, in these columns, laid down scores of times, for the very best of dishes may be served up once too often.
Just one thing, however, I must mention, and you may consider me talking figuratively or not, as you please.
I have a pet swift—the biggest kind of swallow that visits this country—but, being a pet, he never leaves me more than twelve hours at a time, and in that brief space he may have flown one thousand miles, and perhaps visited the rooms of more than one hundred of my girl readers. He can speak various languages almost as well as Rougemont, and a little nearer to the truth, and I sit up to listen to him sometimes till long past twelve at night.
Dinna forget to look out for my birdie. He can see you when you little know of it. But one thing which he has recently told me is that a very large number of you have given up your bath, to which I fondly fancied I had inured you. This vexed me a deal; but you will promise to begin it again very soon, won't you? It is the greatest invigorator of the muscles and nervous system in the world. So "dinna forget."
Dinna forget that colds and coughs are rampant about this time of the year. I am writing these lines long before Christmas, and I have been prophesying for England an open winter. But dinna forget that a green Yule makes a fat kirkyard, and colds are more easily caught from the green cold earth and the damp cold winds than even from frost and snow. The more you are out-of-doors in snow-time—which ought to be glow-time—the better you will be, provided you are not too warmly and heavily clad and do not wear india-rubber clothing in any shape or form.
When a cold comes on, take a warm drink or posset of some kind at bed-time and eight to ten grains of Dover's powder. Get thus a good sweat and a good sleep. Then take an aperient (apenta water) next morning, but I advise you to remain in bed till eventide. This is one of the best ways of cutting short a cold that I know of.
But if coughing continues, you must see a doctor. Coughs may be far more dangerous than you think, and may lead to mischief. Dinna forget that death respects neither beauty nor sex. Indeed, it is often the sweetest flowers of earth that leave us first.
A great many young ladies from seven to seventy complain about this terrible trouble in some form or another. If it is what we call hemi-crania, engaging, if I may use the term, the whole half of the face and head, it may proceed from a bad tooth, or from what is the worst sort of a tooth anyone could be plagued with—a tooth with one small hole in the side. Have this seen to as soon as the first attack has gone. Probably a clever dentist may be able to fill it for you. Some girls go hurrying away to the dentist at once, have gas, and have it out. Such a pity, for as you get older what a blessing you will find your own teeth!
Thank Heaven, I have never worn a false tooth, but it strikes me the sensation can be far from agreeable. If one uses the toothbrush, with a good disinfectant powder, such as borax or charcoal, followed by a rinse of water tinged red with permanganate of potash (and this is usually sold as Condy's fluid), she will have teeth that will last as long as they're wanted.
But what I wish to tell you here is this: apart from actual decay of a tooth and consequent irritation of the nerve, a girl need never have facial neuralgia, nor sciatica, nor any other "algia" if she but lives in such a way as to make herself hardy as a heather stem. Dinna forget that.
Dinna forget that medicines are, as a rule, but palliative, and to call them curatives is, in nine cases out of ten, a very great misnomer. All doctors will tell you the same; but they are exceedingly useful and even most necessary at times. Only dinna forget that they do not repair, nor rebuild the framework of our bodies. Only good, well-chosen food can do that. But, as it does not do to eat when you are not hungry, because then the stomach and other organs are too delicate to digest, you must get up an appetite by exercise, recreation and fresh air.
I don't want you to go about as if you were an invalid. That will make you worse, and your friends will pretend to pity you, and this acting on your mind will soon make you an invalid in earnest. No, keep up bravely and do not complain. Fate will then say—
"Oh, there is no frightening that girl to death! She doesn't scare worth sixpence. Look at her now, on her bit of a bike, with her lips like a half-cut cherry, and the rose tint upon her cheek. Bah, I'll go and try to frighten someone else!"
Then your nerves are re-strung, muscles get hard, you grow a biceps, and every ache and pain flies away to the Back o' Bell-Fuff.
At this time of year many girls whose nerves are finely strung suffer from hypochondriasis, or lowness of spirits, more especially if the ground is soft and the sky grey and ugly.
The real hypochondriac is more or less verging on lunacy, because she has delusions. Nothing seems to go right with her, nothing ever will be right again. There is no beauty anywhere in life, which, taken on the whole, is a great big fraud. Why was she ever sent into this world at all, at all, against her will? She is sure she didn't wish to be born, and she wishes she were well out of it. She is sad, melancholy, abstracted, and does nothing with any will.
Well, what shall we do with a girl of this kind? What say you, mother? Medicine? Was that what you suggested? Well, medicine, even if she could swallow the whole pharmacopœia, would do her no more good than a pinch of snuff; in fact, not so much, for the snuff would make her sneeze, and that would help her for a time. She must have a change.
Dinna forget that. If she cannot get away, she must get a new fad of some kind. Only there is one thing, mother, which pray dinna forget. You must never let her think that you think she is ill. You've got to draw her away from her imaginary miseries, and all will soon be well.
"What would you prescribe for my daughter?" a lady once asked me. "She must eat."
"Then let her have a Shetland pony," I replied abstractedly.
"What!"
"A Shetland pony, and a young one. Oh, not to eat, to ride on, and make a general favourite of. For a time the pony will manage her; then with love and a tiny switch she will learn to manage the pony. After that the fun will begin, and her imaginary troubles will all fly away."
In a month or two the cure was complete, and I used to see the girl—she was young—careering across the common, her bonnie yellow hair and the pony's mane streaming out in the wind and her face as merry as a May morning.
It need not, if beauty is only looked well after. But how shall it be? Not by powders and paint, dear young readers—dinna forget that. Leave rouge and the rest of it to Miss So-and-so and all the other "quite old things" whom you know. Be ye natural; unless, indeed, you have some real blemish. Dinna forgot you have youth on your side, and youth and beauty are almost synonymous terms. You like Miss So-and-so very well indeed, and my swift has just told me she heard you make the following remark the other day to a companion—
"Know Miss S.? Oh, yes; have known her for ages. Poor, dear, old thing, how well she makes up!"
Well, hug the happiness you possess in being young, to your heart of hearts; but a little tinge of sadness must mar it at times, when you remember that you too must get older and be fain to assume the attractions you shall then no longer possess.
But beauty in winter? Well, it must be kept up, and can only be kept up by rational means. If you expose yourself to high cold winds while biking or driving, you may spoil your complexion for weeks to come. I declare I should hardly like to enter the breakfast-room with such a cold as your own folly has brought you, accompanied by watery eyes that blink at the sunshine, and that wicked, wee red nose. Well, exposure is unnecessary, so we shall leave that alone.
Next comes ablution and clothing. If you care a French penny for the beauty you possess, you will be careful as to both. If you won't, can't or sha'n't take your bath, dinna forget to have very frequent changes of underclothing. But in some form or other thorough ablution is imperative.
Food comes next. Never touch stimulants. I know some young ladies do, but it is the biggest mistake in the world, quite an elephantine error. Dinna forget that. As regards solid food, the more solid it is the better; and you should now—unless stout—have plenty of sugar and fatty food. Potatoes and other starchy foods should be taken also. You want to keep up the strength? Sugar is power! Dinna you forget that.
Dinna forget this either: that pudding after dinner helps to spoil the complexion. Have fruit instead. A little vaseline—cold cream at night will preserve the skin. You need nothing else. Good-bye! Dinna forget!
By H. MARY WILSON, Author of "In Warwick Ward," "In Monmouth Ward," "Miss Elsie," etc.
Towards the end of a busy morning Sister Warwick was cheered by the bright face of her youngest sister, who had come up for a day's shopping, and who appeared in the ward for a few moments.
She went with a smile and something sunny to say to the bedside of the one or two patients she remembered to have seen during her last visit. Mrs. 13 she asked after with special interest, and paused with sudden gravity to look at the lines on the suffering face, just now at rest in sleep.
She knew Mrs. 13's story, and her heart burnt within her as she recalled it. How she longed for those who say that the sweating system of ill-paid and unwholesome work is a thing of the past to stand where she stood and see for themselves!
Presently the warm-hearted girl had other thoughts—still kind ones—in her pretty head. She begged her elder sister to come into her room and see what she had put there.
Oh, such a glorious basket of roses!
Sister Warwick plunged her face among them and sighed her enjoyment, not only of the scent, but because they had come from home, and because a dear mother's hands had helped to cut and pack them there.
"They are not for the ward or the patients this time," said the eager young voice. "Mother and I thought of it together. We want one to be laid on each of the nurses' plates at dinner to-day as a little surprise. Do you think Miss Jameson would say 'Yes' if I took them to the Nurses' Home?"
"Of course she would, dear! Only try! And how I wish you could hear what the nurses will say and the look on their faces when they see a pretty, gay table where there is usually a desert-plain of white china! It is a nice thought!"
"Well, mother and I have come to the conclusion that you working-women want freshening with a flower sometimes as well as the rich folk. We mean to do it again some day. Oh, and there are quite enough to go all round, I hope, and to leave a supply for the Sisters' dinner this evening. We weren't going to leave you out, you poor, tired old thing. You look rather washed out, dear."
There was an anxious question in these last words.
Sister Warwick told her a little about her disturbed night, and got a loving kiss of sympathy. Then the merry girl bustled away, leaving behind her an atmosphere the brighter for her coming.
Who more than hospital nurses appreciate these short-lived breaks in their lives, these little visits from their own people that flash sunshine and warmth into the dark corners?
And the flowers too. What would hospital life be without the flowers? Have we not already seen some of the many happy uses to which they may be put?
The typhoid—No. 10—was a poor flower-girl. She had not failed to notice how the nurses loved the fair blossoms, and with reviving life her warm little heart filled with gratitude for the tenderness and care she had received. She could only think of one vent for her feelings.
"Look here, Sister," she said. "I generally stand at the top o' Cheapside or thereabouts. Do come my way. I'll be looking out for you. And I'll give you such a bowkay!"
Susie, if she was inclined to fret for "mother" and "home," had a plucky little soul with which to greet other woes. Just to-day she was feeling it very perplexing that, in spite of a decidedly hungry appetite, she was knocked off her dinner altogether. She tried not to grumble, but her face was very wistful until Sister came and explained that the doctors wished it, and that in the afternoon she was to "have on a clean night-gown and such a pretty bed-jacket that is waiting in my room, and I shall tie up your hair with this nice piece of blue ribbon. We are going to take you to see the doctors instead of their coming to see you to-day. You know how kind they are, don't you, little maid?"
Susie had nothing but gentleness to remember, and fortunately she did not connect Sister's words with the great cruel lump on her leg that was sapping her little life and giving her those sudden sharp pains that often drew her little lips together with a pathetic "Oh!"
It was thus that Sister Warwick tenderly shielded the child as much as possible from the terrors of anticipating an unknown ordeal, and Susie went smiling in Sister's arms to the operating theatre. She only had one short moment of fear when she found herself laid on that very strange bed, with so many strange faces round her.
Then she went to sleep. She supposed so, for she opened her eyes again in the long, quiet ward, with the bright flowers on the table and Sister beside her, one hand resting on her curls, and the other holding her tiny wrist. Sister was smiling too. Seeing this, Susie guessed there was nothing to be frightened at, though down in her little heart she fancied she should have been afraid of something—she did not know what—if she had waked to find herself alone.
She drank the milk that was given her, and feeling drowsy sighed a "Good night, Sister," turned a very white little face sideways upon the pillow, and slept again—this time a natural satisfactory slumber.
Susie never realised what a blessed thing had happened to her during that confused time. For she was hardly old enough to connect that "going to see the doctors" with the fact that her "poor, poor leg," as she called it, grew rapidly well from that day.
Happy Susie, to pass so calmly through such a crisis in your life! and to lie in your little cot all unconscious of the interest you cause, not only to your doctors and nurses, but to all the elder women in the beds up and down this long room, who were well enough to enter into what went on around them. The flower-girl was one of these, and Mrs. 13 was another.
Patty, being a spoilt little mortal, expressed a wish that she too might "have a pretty hair-tie, and go to see the doctors with Sister." She was quite jealous of all the attention Susie was receiving, and thought herself neglected by contrast.
Sister laughed, and made it all right by saying:
"You shall do better than that, dear. Some day soon we will put you into the mail-cart, wrap you up in a pretty blue shawl, and you shall go under the trees in the gardens."
So Patty had the pleasure of anticipation, too.
(To be concluded.)
A New Correspondent.—1. Take a lukewarm bath every day. Where you perspire most profusely sponge the parts over with toilet vinegar and water. A very good way to check excessive sweating, especially if it is offensive, is to dust the inside of your gloves, stockings and sleeves with a powder consisting of ninety-nine parts of silica and one part of salicylic acid, finely powdered. Wash your feet and hands every night in warm boracic acid solution (two teaspoonfuls of boracic acid to the quart of water). Change your linen frequently during hot weather.—2. The voice of the girl does not alter so much as does that of the boy. It also "forms" more gradually, and there is rarely or never a distinct "cracking" of the voice of the girl like that which usually occurs in the boy. At nineteen years of age the speaking voice is fully formed, but the singing voice may go on improving till thirty or even later.
Daisy.—Anything which disturbs the health will cause a dark sallow complexion and dark rings round the eyes. Defective hygienic surroundings, lack of exercise or sufficient nourishment, overwork, or indeed anything which interferes with perfect health will cause a sallow complexion. The way to improve your complexion is to take plenty of exercise, eat well, and pay attention to the general laws of health. Cosmetics and other applications would make your face worse.
Daughter.—Your mother suffers from hay fever. Let her follow the advice we gave to Josephine last week. If this proves successful so much the better. But hay fever is a ticklish thing to treat, and but rarely does the first treatment tried effect a cure. Snuffs of various kinds are often used for this ailment. We have seen better results from snuffs containing menthol or aristol than from others. Very often a trivial surgical manœuvre, such as destroying a sensitive spot with a prick of the electric needle will permanently cure hay fever. Sometimes nothing seems to do any good. Hay fever is thought by some people to result from the pollen of flowers irritating the mucous membrane of the nose. This may be a cause in some cases, but it cannot be invariably the rule. As a matter of fact a large number of totally dissimilar affections are lumped together and called "hay fever," and so it is not difficult to see why the same treatment will not be of avail to every sufferer from this complaint.
Pussy.—Can indigestion be cured at home? Of course it can. Better at home than anywhere else. The person who told you that indigestion could not be cured without sea air is not a reliable authority. Attention to diet is everything in indigestion. Last year in The Girl's Own Paper we published two articles on indigestion. Let your friend read these, and also the answers to correspondents which deal with the subject of indigestion. We seem to be always discussing indigestion, nervousness or face spots. She must not eat apples either raw or cooked. She may relieve her constipation if necessary with a little liquorice powder or a teaspoonful of cascara sagrada. If your friend reads what we have advised, she will find all she needs to cure herself of indigestion.
Stavesacre.—We are thoroughly aware that this drug is used to destroy lice in the hair. It is not a drug which we would advise anyone to use. It is a violent poison, and in our experience it does not do what it is intended to do.
Mimosa.—1. It is hardly correct to say that "nearly every girl is anæmic." A great many girls do suffer from that malady, but "nearly every girl" is an exaggeration. We do not think that anæmia is on the increase, if you take into consideration the conditions under which girls live. Anæmia is always much more prevalent in cities than it is in small towns and villages. Consequently, as our towns grow larger, a greater number of girls get anæmia. In London we think that anæmia is slightly less common than it was formerly.—2. In severe anæmia the legs very often do swell. In the slighter grades of the affection they only swell after severe exertion.
Fond Mother.—There are few places in the world more deadly to Europeans than the Gold Coast. If you can possibly prevent your son from going to such an unhealthy place we strongly advise you to do so. Very few Europeans who have set foot upon "The White Man's Grave" recover their health when they return home. And it is but a small number that ever do return.
Pure Water.—You say that you have a porcelain filter. Do you mean a charcoal filter in a porcelain jar, that is, a cottage filter? or do you mean a filter in which the water is forced through porcelain? The latter kind of filter is thoroughly efficient. The former kind is far worse than useless. The question of the use and abuse of filters has been considered by two commissions. The latest commission was held last year. It dealt chiefly with the value of the pocket filters used by British soldiers. The report was very condemnatory.
Ben Bolt.—1. We smiled at your amusing French-English letter, but we can inform you that we only criticise the handwriting of our correspondents when we have been asked to do so. The request very usually accompanies the MSS. sent to us.—2. There is certainly room for improvement in your English prose, but we should judge you quite capable of making yourself competent to undertake translations.
Miss Hathway, whose society we have frequently mentioned, writes to say that her address is now Chambers' Library, Wokingham. Her "Excelsior Literary Club" for essays, stories, research, subjects of discussion, with criticism and prizes, originated in 1877. The second term of her classes for English subjects, French, and Italian, is now beginning. Terms (moderate) on application, with stamp for reply.
Agatha.—We feel much sympathy for you.—1. Your drawing is good, the shading being well managed for one who has never learned. We advise you to persevere.—2. Your writing is very clear and excellent, considering that you have to write lying on your back. We hope you will soon be stronger.
Ardchullary.—1. You have not given your quotation quite correctly—
These magnificent lines are from a poem by Wordsworth, "suggested by a picture of Peele Castle in a storm." They mean the light of poetic imagination, which irradiates life, although it is not seen with the outward eye.—2. Your writing is neat and good, but the tails to your g's and y's, etc., are too long.
Bougie's Friend (Belgium).—1. We answered your first question some time ago.—2. In reply to your inquiry as to whether "there is no harm in flirting," we must tell you that there is a type of flirting which is distinctly vulgar, and does not elevate a girl in the eyes of the man who is amusing himself with her. On the other hand, it is only fair to say that some people apply the term "flirting" to very harmless and innocent gaiety and brightness, which is perfectly natural when young people meet together.
"Lys de France" writes to inform her many would-be correspondents that she has already made her choice. She adds, "You cannot imagine the pleasure your 'International Correspondence' has afforded me."
"Erica," Buda-Pesth, Hungary, has offers of correspondence from Miss Edwards, Bibbenluke, New South Wales; and Miss Green, G. M. King, Esq., Glen Rock, Spring Valley, Tarkastad, Cape Colony.
Marie Arapian has an offer of correspondence from Miss Julia Ina Fraser, Egypt House, Newmarket Place, Westmoreland, Jamaica.
Miss Fraser would "like to correspond with some nice ladylike girls about her own age (seventeen) in England, France and Italy, or India."
Miss Clarissa J. Ault and her sister would be glad to have a French girl correspondent of about their own age (nineteen to twenty-one). Address, Aulton House, Church Gresley, Burton-on-Trent.
Miss Emma L. Young is anxious to obtain a French correspondent aged twenty-one. Address, 2, Sans Souci, Harold Cross Road, Dublin.
"Poker," Cholwell House, Temple Cloud, Bristol, wishes to correspond with a French girl aged about eighteen, of good family. She suggests that "they should correct each other's letters."
Miss Lilian A. J. Slade, Lawn Villa, Crewkerne, Somerset, would like both a French and German correspondent aged about eighteen.
"One who is puzzled" wishes to correspond with Miss Florence A. Jeffery (New York). She should write to the address we gave.
Miss Violet Goodhart Godfrey, M.L.S., wishes for an American correspondent; she is eighteen next January. Will an American girl (either the one whose request we published on August 6th, or another) write to her at Ivy Hatch, Horsham?
Gertrude wishes for a French correspondent.
Clem wishes to exchange letters with a French, German, or Italian lady.
Miss E. Watkinson, Wanaka, The Vale, Chelsea, wishes to correspond with a young lady of her own age (twenty-four) in Canada.
Ignoramus wishes for a French girl correspondent of seventeen to twenty.
Dorothy Cross, Minterne, Cerne, Dorset, and Miss Madelina Pullin, The Parsonage Farm, Warminster, Wilts, wish to correspond with French girls aged about fourteen.
"Cissie," Southend, should send her full name and address.
"A Reader of the 'G. O. P.,' J. B. Ashford," a girl aged seventeen, wishes for either a French or German correspondent, or both. Address, 55, Marlow Road, Anerley, London, S.E.
Dombey.—We have not made the experiment ourselves, but we have heard that you may restore a faded photograph by placing it in a saturated solution of bichloride of mercury, leaving it in the bath for a few minutes, and then washing and drying it; of course it must be unmounted. There is another method; but whatever experiment you make should be first tried on one which is of no value to you. For our part, we should prefer to leave the photo in the experienced hands of a professional artist, and we cannot take any responsibility in giving the foregoing recipe.
Marta.—There is no cruelty attached to the trade in ostrich feathers. The birds are not killed, excepting only at Buenos Ayres, to provide the market with them; nor are they made to suffer from plucking like the poor geese, to supply quill pens. Each plume is cut with a sharp knife close to the skin, and this gives no pain any more than the cutting of our hair. The stumps wither and fall out; or after ten days may be removed. The greatest supply comes from the Cape; but they are also produced in Tripoli, Egypt, and Morocco. But the trade prices for birds has much gone down.
A. B.—The name "Collect," as applied to the short prayer employed before the Epistle and Gospel, simply expressed the fact that it has reference to the main subjects of the latter extracts collected together. The term "Bible" only meant "a book" in the time of Chaucer. It has been restricted in its application to the Divinely-inspired collection of writings, and the article "the" was super-added. And so the term "Scriptures" is employed with the definite article, to show that these writings are separate from all others; sometimes the word "holy" being further employed to mark them as standing alone, and in a rank superior to that of any others, however distinguished and authoritative.
Edith.—Should anyone step on your foot, or accidentally push against you, and apologise, say "Not at all, don't mention it." Do not say "All right," and certainly not the vulgar reply, "Granted," from which an inference could naturally be drawn that you considered an apology was due, which would not be complimentary.
L. E. Bird.—The initial letters placed on an invitation card—"R. S. V. P."—are those of the French words, Répondez, s'il vous plait, which, translated into English, means, "Answer, if you please." Your handwriting is scarcely formed, but very legible, and promises well for a running hand, with practice.
Beatrice.—You had better transact the business through the Exchange and Mart. Get one of the papers to see their terms (70, Strand, W.C., Office of the Bazaar. E. & M.).
Florence A. Jeffery.—A halfpenny of William and Mary, with plain edge, and the date under Britannia, "1694" (in copper) is worth from 1s. to 5s.; but some examples have sold for much more. Three halfpennies, one Irish, have been sold for £1 12s., but they were very fine specimens. Another of 1694, of bold work, extremely fine, realised £7 10s. A halfpenny of George II. is worth from 6d. to a 1s. The head of the date you name, "1754," is an old one.
H. Maxwell.—We must refer you to the 1st volume of The Oracle Encyclopædia (Geo. Newnes, Ltd.), page 619, where you will read—"In the old Church of St. Martin, built in the 12th or 13th c., Roman bricks and Norman sculpture have been worked-up in the walls!"
M. D.—We recommend you to dispose of the medical books through the Exchange and Mart (70, Strand, W.C.).
Silkworm might offer her silk for disposal through the medium of the above-named paper.
Lizzie.—The French obtained the soubriquet of "frogs" not because of their using these creatures as food, because we find that the southern Germans, Austrians, and Italians esteem the green ones in the same way, as delicacies of the table, but the name was derived from the original heraldic device of their kings, who bore on their escutcheons "three toads (or frogs) erect, saltent." In the year 1791, "What will the frogs say?" was a common phrase of the Court at Versailles, applied to the citizens of Paris. The site of this city was once a quagmire, or swamp, like that of London, and was called Lutétia, or "mud land," its inhabitants living like the frogs, in the mud. September 20th, 1885, fell on a Sunday.
C. W. N.—We like your "Reverie." It shows much poetical feeling; but a little flaw at the commencement might be corrected. The nave cannot be said to be "pierced" by the aisle, an arch, nor even by the column. They do not go through the roof. We do not say this satirically, but because the full and correct meaning of words must be remembered and strictly employed in their true sense.
May.—Hermanszoon van Rhyn Rembrandt was a Dutch painter and engraver; born in 1608, and died in 1669. If your picture be signed, it is valuable. Search the corners carefully for any initials, date, or mark. You do not name the subject.
Transcriber's note—the following changes have been made to this text: