Read Ebook: The Girl's Own Paper Vol. XX No. 1029 September 16 1899 by Various

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 312 lines and 25400 words, and 7 pages

Lucy's slumbers now were deep and calm. Almost every morning she awoke with a sense of refreshment, as when one returns to labour after being among kind hearts in lovely places. Sometimes she knew she had dreamed, and such dream memories as lingered, elusive, for a few waking moments, were always bright and cheering. Visions of Charlie had come during the first nights after the great blow. He never seemed to speak, but he was always smiling, always confident that all was well and would be well. His dream form always appeared in positions and in scenes which Lucy could recall as having figured in peculiarly happy times. And yet these scenes had been at the time so slight and evanescent that Lucy had quite forgotten them till the dream revived the remembrance. It was as if, in her sleep, her soul was drawn so near the light and warmth of love that even the invisible records of memory started into view.

After those first few occasions Charlie came no more into any dream which she could recall even at the instant of waking. But the soothing spirit of hope and reassurance remained. If she dreamed of Florence, Florence wore the simple frocks of her girlhood and spoke as she used to do. Jem Brand, too, appeared only on his kind and helpful side. Once she had a curious dream of seeing two Jem Brands exactly alike, save that one was fresh and smiling and friendly, and inclined to nudge his strange dissipated-looking twin, and to ask why he was so grumpy and heavy. In her sleep, too, she saw Mrs. Morison, and Jane Smith, and Clementina, and each was back in her old place and doing well. Lucy could never remember what passed between them and her in the land of sleep, but somehow she knew it was something that explained things, something which made them feel that the past could not have ended otherwise than it had, but which also made her feel that it was quite natural that they should begin again and do better.

She thought to herself once as she awoke--

"I feel as if wherever Charlie is I am in his every thought, and that his every thought is a prayer always ascending on every way by which it can bring back blessing."

It was about this time that it struck Lucy that strangers very often spoke to her. She scarcely ever entered an omnibus or a railway carriage without somebody appealing to her for some trifling assistance, or confiding to her some little difficulty which they seemed to think might grow clearer if it were talked over. Once or twice she noticed that old folks or little children let ever so many people pass them by and then asked her to ring a stiff bell for them or to decipher an address.

Sometimes she caught herself softly repeating Adelaide Proctor's lines--

"Who is the angel that cometh? Pain! Let us arise and go forth to greet him. Not in vain Is the summons gone for us to meet him; He will stay and darken our sun; He will stay A desolate night, a weary day. Since in that shadow our work is done, And in that shadow our crowns are won, Let us say still, while his bitter chalice Slowly into our heart is poured-- 'Blessed is he that cometh In the name of the Lord!'"

Of course beneath all this high experience ran the undercurrent of simple daily living. Lucy was in no danger of losing hold of the practical. She had her regular duties at the Institute, and many little opportunities for the exercise of tact and common sense at home. The little household had a real organic unity in its common service of true friendship, but that did not rub off all the little human angles. Sometimes Pollie would say that "Mrs. May was more particular than a real mistress." Sometimes Miss Latimer found a trial in the romps of Hugh and Tom Black. Mr. Somerset adopted vegetarianism and puzzled Mrs. May by desiring her to concoct dishes which seemed to her unsatisfactory and uncanny. But each trusted the other. Everybody knew that everybody meant well. If a sharp word were spoken unwarily, a kind word followed hard upon it. Each understood that all joys and trials were common property; shares therein might differ, but everybody had a share.

So the weeks grew into months, and the months completed a year. One evening Lucy was sitting in the dining-room glancing over her completed balance sheet with its tiny "surplus," when suddenly it seemed to her that there was a new sound in the very rumble of the cab which was depositing Mr. Somerset as usual at the door, after his day's study at the British Museum. She looked up, her pen in her hand listening.

Mr. Somerset generally went straight to his own apartments. Occasionally, however, when he had any news to tell or any request to make, he looked in upon the little party in the dining-room.

He did so now.

He sat down on the sofa and said abruptly--

"Mrs. Challoner, do you think joy ever hurts anybody?"

"Surely not," she said, looking up with wide eyes. "The Bible says that hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but that when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life."

She had risen from her seat with clasped hands.

"Mr. Somerset, Mr. Somerset!" she gasped.

He rose too.

"Trust me," he said, gently leading her mind to its new attitude. "I would not stir expectation ever so lightly for nothing. To-day I have received a message from the shipping office to deliver to you. Listen! The long looked-for word has come at last. Charlie lives! Charlie is quite well! Charlie is coming home! He is on his way!"

Lucy did not faint. She did not cry out. She sat quite quiet for a moment, and then broke into a peal of low happy laughter, which died away in a flood of soft healing tears, from which she looked up and said--

"Is it all true? Is it quite true? I can scarcely believe it!"

THE PLEASURES OF BEE-KEEPING.

BY F. W. L. SLADEN.

August is the month we most associate with all the active interests of the height of summer, but the bees in the hive are already quieting down and making preparations for their long winter sleep. The duty of the bee-keeper will be to make sure that these preparations are properly carried out by assisting them if necessary. One reason for their diminished activity is the disappearance of several honey-producing flowers on which the bees depend for their main crop. Breeding is not kept up so largely--the brood nest growing smaller; and many cells that contained brood last month will now be filled up with honey and pollen. Most of the bees now in the hive are to survive the coming winter, and they must preserve their energies as much as possible, because the colony will stand in great need of their services in the following spring. The drones, who gather no honey, and are of no further use in the hive are now attacked and killed, or turned out of the hive to perish from exposure. The ejection of the drones is rather a gruesome proceeding, but it is one that should give satisfaction to the bee-keeper, because it shows that the colony possesses a healthy and vigorous queen, and this, of course, is an essential condition for its well-being.

All through this month robbing will have to be guarded against, as, now that honey is scarce, it is easily induced, especially where there are a number of hives. To prevent robbing, the hives should not be opened too often, and then only late in the afternoon, and the work done as speedily as possible. No drops of honey or syrup should be left about, and if feeding is going on, care should be taken to prevent any bees from outside getting to the feeder.

When robbing and fighting are found to be in progress, the best means of checking the trouble will be to reduce the entrance of the hive with perforated zinc, so as to allow only one bee to pass in or out at a time. A rag soaked in a weak solution of Calvert's No. 5 carbolic acid, wrung out nearly dry, and spread out on the alighting board will also help to keep the robbers off.

These measures need not be taken unless there is considerable excitement around the hive entrance. At this time of year there will often be a few strangers on the alighting board, which get pulled about rather roughly by little groups of over-zealous sentinels, but no notice need be taken of this.

The middle or end of August will be time enough to think about getting the bees into condition for the winter. A careful inspection of all the hives should now be made, and the following points carefully noted:

Every colony should have a good laying queen. The appearance of worker brood in all stages will be sufficient evidence of her presence without our taking the trouble to hunt her up.

The colony must be strong, the bees crowding on at least six standard frames.

The combs must contain not less than twenty pounds of good honey for food during the winter.

These three conditions being fulfilled, we may be satisfied that the colony is in good condition to withstand the rigours of winter without further attention, and only requires to be wrapped up warmly later on before the advent of cold weather.

The colonies which are to be united should stand near to one another; by this I mean within a yard or two of one another. If they are further apart or have several other hives standing between them, they will have to be brought together, the moving being done by degrees, a yard or two at a time, and only on fine days during which the bees fly freely, otherwise many bees will be lost.

For the operation of uniting a flour-dredger will be required, containing about half-a-pint of flour. Also a goose-wing for brushing the bees off the combs. The dome queen-cage is an appliance that may come in useful. It is made of tinned wire-cloth, and shaped like the strainer that is sometimes hung from the spout of a tea-pot to retain the leaves. Such tea-strainers make very good queen-cages. To use the queen-cage it is pressed into the comb with the queen inside.

The hive to contain the united colonies should be placed midway between the two old stands. The alighting-boards should be extended by means of the hiving-board which was used in hiving the swarm.

A bright calm afternoon will be the best time to do the uniting. We have already seen that bees belonging to different colonies when mixed will not, under ordinary circumstances, agree. If, however, they are prevented from recognising one another they will unite together quite peaceably, and this condition may be brought about by dusting them over with flour. Every comb must therefore be lifted out of both hives and the bees on them well powdered with flour from the dredger. In replacing the combs, one from one hive should be put next to another from the other hive, thus ensuring the better mixing of the bees. Combs containing brood should be placed together in the middle of the hive. The bees on the lightest of the outside combs may be shaken off on to the hiving-board, where they should receive a sprinkling of flour, the combs being then taken indoors at once.

During the operation a sharp look out should be kept for the queens on the brood combs, and if one of them should be preferred for heading the new colony she should be caged by herself on a comb in the manner described above to prevent any hostile workers from attacking her. The other queen must then be found and removed, and the bee-keeper must remember to liberate the caged queen on the following day. If left to themselves, however, the workers soon learn to recognise one of the queens as their mother, so that the trouble of finding and caging the queen is not really necessary in uniting, but it is an additional safeguard which the practised bee-keeper is glad to be able to take advantage of.

Having settled the question of strength, the next thing to see about will be the food supply. If each hive does not possess the minimum weight of 20 lb. of stored honey, combs containing food must be given from another hive that can spare them, or syrup must be supplied through the feeder.

Syrup for winter use must be made thicker than that used for stimulating in the summer, 10 lbs. of cane sugar being dissolved in only 5 pints of water. The syrup must be given quickly , otherwise much of it may be used for raising brood. For this purpose special rapid feeders, made to hold 6 lb. of syrup, are made.

If the stock-box contains more than 30 lb. of honey, we may take and extract the surplus from the outside combs, or one of these combs might with advantage be given to a colony that stands in need of it.

Bee-keepers who live in the heather districts of Scotland and the north of England will now be reaping the late honey harvest that this plant affords, getting their supers filled with the delicious heather-honey, which is so highly esteemed for its fine flavour. Persons keeping a few colonies a little distance from the moors find it worth their while to send their bees there while the heather is in bloom. Heather-honey has a deep colour. It is so thick that it is extremely difficult to remove it from the comb by means of the honey extractor. It should therefore be stored in sections, as these do not require extracting. Sections of heather-honey should fetch about threepence more than ordinary sections.

What to do with the honey obtained from their bees is a question, I expect, that will not trouble many of my readers. Still it will be a good thing to know some of the uses of honey. In the first place it is delicious eaten with bread and butter. It contains grape sugar, which makes it wholesome and easily digested, and particularly good for children in moderate quantities. Honey-vinegar and mead when well made are acknowledged to be excellent. As an ingredient in cakes and confectionary, honey greatly improves them. A delicious flavour is imparted to tea or coffee if sweetened with honey instead of sugar. "My son, eat thou honey, because it is good" is the recommendation the wise King Solomon gave honey.

Honey is also valuable as a medicine. Mixed with the juice of lemons it is universally acknowledged to be one of the best remedies for sore throat and cough. It has been proved to be beneficial in cases of rheumatism, hoarseness, and affections of the chest.

THREE GIRL-CHUMS, AND THEIR LIFE IN LONDON ROOMS.

Marion's wedding-day was near at hand. Mrs. Grant, her cousin, who lived in Norfolk Square, had very kindly offered to have the wedding from her house, and this arrangement was the most convenient for everybody concerned. It had been at first intended that she should be married from her own home in Northamptonshire, but there would have been such a difficulty in putting up all the wedding guests, and Dr. Thomas's house was already a very full one. So when Mrs. Grant offered the loan of her house for the occasion it was thankfully accepted.

Marion was disappointed at not being married from her own home, but she saw plainly that the present arrangement would save her mother a great deal of fatigue and inconvenience, and as Mrs. Thomas was not at all strong now, that was a great point gained. Anybody who has experienced the difficulties of making ready for a party, added to the planning and contriving necessary to the disposal of guests in an already over-full house, will heartily appreciate the benefits of Mrs. Grant's plan.

Jane wrote to Mrs. Grant, whom she knew very well, and offered help for the wedding breakfast. As the cook in Norfolk Square had not been in her place very long and was rather inexperienced, Mrs. Grant was very glad to agree to Jane's suggestion. The wedding was to be on a Saturday. Fortunately the day before was a free day for Jane, and so she would be able to devote it to making ready for the wedding.

There was to be a sit-down breakfast in the old-fashioned style, for the guests were limited to the relations and very old friends of the bride and bridegroom, and as several of these would be coming up from the country for the day, they would be glad of a substantial repast. The bride was to be married in a travelling dress, and was only to have one bridesmaid--her sister Lily.

As the weather was already crisp and cold this was a very sensible plan, for nothing is more unbecoming than the utterly unseasonable attire in which brides and bridesmaids are sometimes seen shivering. Fortunately Marion was not to go straight to a very hot climate, as Mr. Scott had work at Ootacamund for the next year. She received many delightful presents. A very useful one from one of her pupils was a cookery-book for Anglo-Indians, which she treasured very much, as she knew how very useful it would be to her in her new home.

Mrs. Holden gave her several presents, amongst which was some very beautiful lace which Marion had made up on a white silk dinner dress.

The enterprising Jane made the wedding-cake with Ada's help. She had to buy a special tin to bake it in as she had not one big enough. It was cooked with the greatest care in the gas oven in which Marion had prepared so many meals in the days of their joint housekeeping.

The preparations took some days, for Jane had not very much time just then. She prepared half the fruit one evening and half the next. On the next afternoon she got home early, made the cake, and got it into the oven by six o'clock, and had it baked before they went to bed. The next evening she put on the almond icing and the plain royal icing, and on the next she ornamented it. It was allowed two or three days to set quite firm, and then the cake was wrapped in wadding, packed in a box and taken over to Norfolk Square in a cab, where it was kept under a glass case until the wedding. Our readers must have the recipe of this wonderful cake in case they may wish to emulate Jane's industry for the benefit of their friends. Mrs. Oldham sent up a special box of eggs for its concoction.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet