I am always sorry that the power to make music and the capacity for enjoying games were left out of my composition, and in consequence are conspicuous by their absence from our household; but reading has taken their place, and not one of us is unhappy as long as books are to be had; but one tires sometimes of this, and I could wish heartily we all loved games or went in for music, for these tastes are most excellent safeguards against ennui and the craving for excitement and going about that all modern folks seem to possess.
Now one word about Sunday in the schoolroom, and we will pass on to other matters. Whatever you do, never let Sunday be a day of dulness and penance, but make it as bright and happy as you can. Let the household rise as early as on a weekday, be regular at some bright, good service, and make it altogether a bright and pleasant day; let the children see the ‘Graphic’ and ‘Illustrated London News,’ and read their ordinary books. If a book is fit for a weekday it is fit for Sunday. Dine early, because the servants want a little rest, and as a culminating treat have a nice supper about eight, and let the children share it. Don’t tease them with strict rules and sad faces, but let them learn on this day to appreciate rest and to learn something of a higher life, that need not be kept for Sunday alone, but that one has more time to think of on Sunday than on any other day of the week.
I do not myself like to see tennis played or boating or driving for pleasure indulged in, simply, I think, because of old-time prejudice, and because of the noise made or the work given to one’s coachman and horses; but logically there is not half as much harm in these pursuits as there is in the spiteful gossip so many people indulge in after church, or the wasted hours spent in sleep after a heavy dinner eaten under protest and grumbled at everlastingly; and I would much rather my boys played tennis than that they lounged about smoking and sleeping, or wasted their time reading the ‘Sporting Times,’ and longing after their far less harmful rackets. But I at present can manage without this, and prefer to do so, for at present inspecting the animals and wandering about the garden with them seems to suffice, while newspapers and books come in on wet days; while we are all so busy during the week, that the holiday comes as a blessed oasis for which we are all truly thankful. And the children love the illustrated papers—a storehouse of knowledge no parent should be without; and the money spent on them is never wasted, though an Englishman, as a rule, will grudge a few shillings a week for papers, while he never hesitates for a moment to spend double the amount on his dinner, or on that Moloch of English households, the tobacconist.
Above all encourage your own and your children’s friends to come in to tea and talk on Sunday afternoons. This gives no work to the servants, and always makes a nice break. The tea can be set ready before the maids go out, and if many cups are wanted they can be washed up early; and any guest should be made welcome, and sometimes asked to remain for the early supper, which, being cold, and prepared on Saturday, is again of no trouble to the maids. I am very fond of Sunday visitors, and as few English houses open their doors, especially in the country and more distant suburbs, on that day, visitors are often glad to drop in when they can be sure of a welcome and a cup of tea.
Tea in the schoolroom is often, too, a very good institution, for thus the governess sees a little more of life, and acts as hostess; and each child should have its own cup and saucer and plate. This is a great safeguard against breakages, for if one is smashed it must be spoken of at once, and extra cups can be kept for the visitors; but all should be different, so that any breakage may be seen at once, as generally the schoolroom-maid is but young, and apt to conceal any small depredations among the crockery. Now the two great difficulties in a schoolroom are the governess and the schoolroom-maid, and infinite care must be taken in the selection of both. Of course the governess is the first care, and, though she should be mistress in the schoolroom, she yet must only be a viceroy, and must act for the mother entirely, and not at all on her own responsibility unless she is expressly desired to do so. No governess should be engaged who cannot be in some measure a companion to the mother, to whom and with whom she should be in perfect accord; for there are endless ways in which the governess can save a mother of a household, does she make herself really pleasant, if only in conveying the children to the dentist—a necessary business, but one that need not harrow the mother’s feelings if the governess is as good and useful as she ought to be; for the governess does not feel, as a mother does, that all her teeth are being taken out bodily the moment Tommy opens his mouth for inspection, and endures none of the vicarious pangs that make any fanciful mother’s life a burden to her, even though nothing happens. The governess must be healthy, strong-minded, good-tempered, and, above all, must have some nice hobbies, and be fond of teaching them; then the schoolroom will indeed be the heart of the house, and will send out a series of healthy, happy children into the great world. Make the governess one with the household; let your interests be hers, the children for the time being a mutual possession. Take any amount of trouble to procure a really nice girl of a good family, and then you may breathe freely; while if the schoolroom-maid comes young too, and is carefully trained, you will then have a perfectly managed schoolroom, and feel you can rest awhile should you desire it, secure that your place is well filled by a competent minister, who will rule in your place until you return both well and wisely.
Never discuss your governess either with or before the children, and take care that her life is as much as possible a fac-simile of yours. Let her have books and papers and share in any gaiety that is going; and above all try and make her think that she becomes part of the family, should she really stay some time with you, and that your interest in her will last as long as life itself. I can imagine nothing more wicked than to cast off old governesses or servants, and to decline to keep those who have helped us so much, and in a manner no amount of money will repay.
The schoolroom would not be complete in my eyes without just a few sentences on the subject of the children’s dress. This would, in the case of the girls, consist of good warm underclothing; in two sets of combination garments, one in wool, the other in long-cloth; a stay-bodice—never stays on any pretext whatever—made of ribbed material, on which a flannel skirt should be sewn in winter; then another skirt, also sewn on a bodice; and finally that invaluable costume, the ‘smock-frock,’ the skirt trimmed with three rows of tucks, the sleeves full, and the full bodice drawn in with either a loose band or a soft sash of Liberty silk. From the day a baby is put into short clothes until the girl of fifteen becomes too lanky for such a plain dress, there is no other costume as suitable for all times of the year. In summer very thin cashmere is enough, with perhaps a soft silk handkerchief underneath for outdoor wear; in winter a long coat of cashmere and soft cap make admirable outdoor garments, and are put on in a very few moments, while all Liberty’s soft silks and cashmeres are warm without an undue amount of weight, and are all of such lovely colours that no one thinks of the plainness of the material used for a moment. Until girls are fifteen they should always wear pinafores of some kind. I use a very large white diaper pinafore tied with Liberty sashes, and they should furthermore have shoes with straps and low wide heels; while for boys nothing is so sensible as the much-copied Jack Tar suit, with its serge trousers and wide loose shirts, though I personally prefer the Scotch kilt; the sailor suits are soon shabby and generally untidy, while the kilts always look well, wear for ever almost, and there are no knees either of stockings or trousers always giving out and requiring to be mended every moment or so. After the kilts boys can take to jackets and trousers, which in perfection can only be bought of Swears and Wells, Regent Street, W., whose charges are, of course, rather awful to contemplate, but whose clothes undoubtedly outwear three suits of any one else’s; and I speak from the experience of my three boys, for whom I have often tried to go elsewhere, but have always had to return to Swears, for nowhere else can I buy things that to a certain extent will defy the rough usage given to them. The sailor suits can be bought best of Redfern, at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight; the kilts of Swears also.
To conclude: the eye of the mother should really never be taken from the children, as long as they are growing. Weak backs should be detected at once, and allowed to rest on a proper sofa and carefully bathed with salt water; weak ankles should be treated the same; cuts should be dressed with calendula and soft rags; a supply of both and of sticking-plaster should be in every schoolroom cupboard. Camphor is also a good thing to keep ready; it stops many an incipient cold. A good supply of fruit and jam and fresh air and regular exercise stop many an illness and save many a doctor’s bill, and, in fact, a doctor should indeed rarely be required nowadays in a house where mother, governess, and nurse really know their business and really look after the children; for, unless in real illness, doctors seldom are of any use in a schoolroom, and only add up accounts that are really accounts of the mother’s ignorance or selfishness or neglect.
Naturally, when children inherit disease—and that people who inherit diseases or are related should marry is nothing more or less than a crime in my eyes, and should be to the world at large—or are susceptible by inheritance to colds, fevers, &c., the above does not apply; then skilled attention is necessary, and in real cases of need a doctor should be consulted as early as possible; but all girls, and indeed boys, should be taught always something about themselves and their formation, and they should learn early those marvellous, unchangeable laws of health which, once broken, render not only themselves but future generations miserable and wretched for ever; but, of course, great care must be taken here, as indeed everywhere else, to keep the via media, else will the children become self-conscious prigs, always anxious about themselves and their well-being.