From Kitchen to Garret: Hints for young householders

by J. E. Panton

charming paper of Japanese chrysanthemum design. It had little colour about it—only a faint pink flush, that just gave the idea of warmth without a glare. To give body to this, the dado was of Indian matting with a dado rail and wainscot paint of a good terra-cotta; the pink shade, not the brown. The ceiling was papered with a pale diaper-patterned terra-cotta paper, which was most pleasant to look at, and I had matting and rugs on the floor. A slight idea of this room can be obtained from the illustration on the previous page.

The doors, mantelpiece, &c. were all painted to match, and the doors were panelled with terra-cotta chintz at 9d. a yard at Burnett’s, and had brass fittings, which I bought at Maple’s eleven years ago, and which have done service in two houses, and will go with me to a third, I hope, before long. On the mantelpiece I had a full flounce of blue and white Lahore cretonne, which is also used for covering the eider-down, and gave the necessary piece of blue colour there, which was repeated in the tiles at the back of the washing-stand, and on a big settee in one of the windows, which is a most useful possession, as it serves for a sofa, and opens wide to hold the dresses in. Maple keeps these box ottomans at about 2l. 10s., covered with odds and ends of cretonnes; to cover them with anything pretty costs a few shillings more, though, of course, occasionally the original covering may be pretty enough for use. Mine was hideous—great pink roses and green leaves, on a black ground; but for 10s. I made it quite a thing of beauty with blue and white cretonne, properly frilled, and I also added a big square frilled pillow, and a large drapery of gold thread tapestry, the same pattern I use for toilet-covers and tablecloths, over my two square cupboard-tables that serve to hold boots and odds and ends inside, and books, &c., on the top, thus answering a double purpose.

I think these small cupboards are really the most useful things I have ever invented, and so I will describe them fully, hoping other people may find them as satisfactory as I have done. When I was in Dorsetshire, I think I lived in the very awkwardest house in the whole county; and it was so badly arranged that to have a morning-room at all I was obliged to copy our French friends, and make what was a bedroom by night a charming sitting-room by day. But perhaps I ought not to grumble, as it was entirely due to this inconvenient house that I turned my mind more especially to making the most of every room I had; and as I had to stow away my belongings in pretty odds and ends, I thought of these small cupboards, and they have proved the greatest success.

They are made of deal, are about three feet high, and are quite square; they are painted some self-colour to match the room, and panelled with Japanese leather paper, and have one shelf inside; the handle is brass and so is the lock, and the hinges might be brass too if further decoration were required. They hold quite a quantity of things, and I cover them with a tapestry tablecloth, place a fern in a pot in the middle, and dot books and photographs about them just as one would on a table. I had them made by our own man, and I think they cost about 10s. or 12s., not more, and they are most useful, for they can be put anywhere, and are never in the way; and this obviates any necessity of the unsightly appearance of boots and shoes lying about the floor, while it allows of keeping some in reserve, for boots and shoes should never be bought and put on, but should be kept quite four months before taking them into wear, as they wear twice as long if this very simple precaution be taken.

The curtains to this room are short, as so often described, and are of the terra-cotta cretonne used to panel the doors, while loose muslin curtains that draw, of Liberty’s yellow and white printed muslin, hang over the glass to keep off the eyes of ‘over the way’; and as I had no blinds I supplemented these in summer by large dark blue serge curtains, at 1s. 11½d. a yard, which hang flat against the wall, and depend from very narrow brass rods at the top of the windows, the other curtains being only below the cathedral glass top windows (which are never shut winter or summer), and which, being opaque, require no permanent shading.

I may mention, by the way, that even in the bedrooms I should always remove the hideous china handles provided by the landlord and replace them with brass fittings. These are undoubtedly cheaper at Maple’s than elsewhere, and cost, the brass finger-plates 1s. 10½d. each, and handles 1s. 11d. for two; brass bell-handles cost about 5s. 6d. each for downstairs, while very pretty brass rings are sold for about 2s. 6d. at Maple’s, to be sewn on flat straps of plush, cretonne, or serge worked in some conventional design for bell-pulls; these are the nicest bell-pulls possible, and last years with care. All these fittings can be removed when the tenant leaves the house, only remember to carefully put away the china door-fittings yourself, or they will be mysteriously lost when you wish to replace them—a wasteful item that can be guarded against with just a little care. Especially also would I paper the bedroom ceilings with some cheap and pretty paper. Maple has an ideal bedroom ceiling at 4d. the piece in a peculiarly charming shade of blue, which is always pleasant to look at; and furthermore would I insist on a real dado, either of cretonne or matting, as this always keeps a room tidy and prevents the wall being spoiled, by the energetic manner in which the bed is always pushed into the wall, which is the housemaid’s idea of placing it in position.

All Mr. Pither’s papers are excellent for bedrooms, in either the ‘berry’ or the ‘blossom’ pattern; and the sage-green ‘blossom,’ with sage-green paint, a dado of sage-green marguerite cretonne, and terra-cotta ceiling papers and cretonnes, and ash furniture make an excellent bedroom; while the darkest blue ‘berry,’ with yellow and white cretonne dado and curtains, blue carpet and ceiling paper, and white, or rather cream, paint and furniture make another charming room; the flowery papers like old-fashioned chintzes in subdued colours, with either a chintz or matting dado, and ivory paint can furthermore be relied on to make a beautiful room. None of these decorations, by the way, is expensive really, and as the dados wear as long as the walls themselves they cannot be called a ruinous addition, and one is repaid for the outlay over and over again by knowing that nothing can harm one’s walls; and as I have the walls sized behind the dado material, and have more than once taken down the dado to see if any dirt had crept behind, and found the wall as clean as the day when the dado was put up, I find the last objection to these dados done away with; for there are only two that have ever been made to me—viz. expense, and possible culture of dirt and creeping things.

And here, reminded of the enemies spoken of above, let me impress upon my readers never to buy bedroom furniture at least in sale-rooms. How can we know we are not buying infection, or how can we guarantee that we shall not become possessors of more than we have paid for? Therefore avoid sales, and go to some respectable firm and buy one or two good things, supplementing them later as money allows, and making shift for extras, as far as one can, until one can afford good solid furniture. In any case let the grate be seen to, and, if possible, buy one of Mr. Shuffery’s slow-combustion stoves and pretty over-mantels, or at least have the stove. A bedroom fire is not waste or extravagance. I never believe firing is extravagance anywhere, and the slow-combustion stove will save its own cost in one month’s consumption of coal; while a narrow strip of looking-glass about a foot wide, and enclosed in a painted deal frame, makes a pretty bedroom shelf; this can be supplemented by fans, brackets, and the ever-useful cheap and pretty chinas to be had of Gorringe.

Expensive as it doubtless is, I cannot see how Angelina is to do without something in the shape of a wardrobe, unless she is lucky enough to come across a little house already provided with cupboards. Some of the new houses, both at Bush Hill Park and at a queer, pretty little corner of the world called Brookgreen, Hammersmith (that I stumbled upon the other day, and was delighted with), have great receptacles that reminded me of the good days of old, when recesses in bedrooms were part of the house, and room-like cupboards were a portion of the structure; but I am compelled to confess that such conveniences are few and far between.