Nooks and Corners / being the companion volume to 'From Kitchen to Garret'

by J. E. Panton

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 2s. 6d. 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 1s. 4½d. 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 3s. the piece. The curtains could be either of the same cretonne or of a Louis XVI. brocade, sold by Colbourne at 2s. 11½d. 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 10s. 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 3s. 9d., 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 2s., 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 1s. 6d., 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.