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

by J. E. Panton

I have always had three very large wicker baskets set apart for using at similar crises of our existence. One holds the household linen, another the nursery and schoolroom toys and books, and the third is set apart for loose cretonne covers, serge table-cloths, and any amount of photographs and ornaments to render the temporary house home-like; for even if I find my new domicile replete with ornaments, I always put them all away at once. Ornaments are always priceless when the reckoning comes to be taken; they can’t possibly be harmed if they retired into a cupboard the moment we arrived, and only emerged from their seclusion the day we leave.

If the china and glass in a house are really expensive and good, I also put them all away, and I purchase for our own use the very cheapest ware I can find. China and glass are so very cheap nowadays, that it is far better to do this than be made to pay fabulous sums for the owner’s china, which seems to one so hideous, and is only costly because in these artistic days of ours it is impossible to match it.

The contents of my basket soon make even a hideous room much better; while one feels that one need not always be on the look-out, as one must be to protect another person’s property if one does not take these precautions; but, as a rule, furnished houses are so absolutely unfurnished and ugly, I am thankful to cover up what I find, and so in some measure mitigate the horrors of my surroundings, by putting about as many of my own belongings as I can take with me. We also, when we go away, always put at the top of each separate person’s box that individual’s own sheets, pillow-cases, and eider-down quilt; and I never go away without some spare pillows, and any amount of cushions. This sounds luxurious; but why should we be uncomfortable because we are not at home? On the contrary, because we are not we ought to take more care than ever that all shall be as nice as we can make it; while, the sheets and pillow-cases being ready, the servants have no trouble in settling in the first evening. They open the boxes and make the beds at once, with sheets we know are aired; and therefore, even in the confusion that is generally apparent at these times, we have no risk of spending our first night between damp sheets.

Another thing we should provide ourselves with is a hamper of groceries, and, if we are to arrive late, with sufficient cooked food to supply the establishment for the night and next morning. Each servant should be told off to certain duties, and no hurry or confusion should be allowed. All, except one box in which to put the last things, should be locked and strapped the night before, and the luggage should be at the station in good time; the tickets should all be procured; or at least ordered, the day before; and if these simple precautions are taken the journey need be hardly any trouble at all. It must be some, but nothing to speak of, when the servants know their work, are ready in advance, and are not allowed to forget anything, not even the harmless necessary cat.

Now a few words about the animals: and let me beg anyone who has cats and dogs to take these poor things with them. We always do; the dogs go with the horses, the cats with the servants, and they never attempt to stray. They are absolutely and abjectly miserable if we leave them at home, even with a caretaker; while they cost nothing to take, and are happy with us, just as, in fact, they are at home. I have nothing to say about or to those people who are wicked enough to ‘stray’ their cats, or leave them shut out in the garden, to forage for themselves. They must be such cruel wretches, that I hope they may not even read this book; but many people, possessed of the kindest hearts have no compunction in leaving their cats to caretakers, little understanding how these poor things pine for the human companionship to which they are accustomed, and after which they long pitifully. Now a cat costs nothing, a dog very little, to take; so I do hope all who can will consider if their holiday cannot be shared by their dumb friends. I am sure they will never regret it if they make up their minds to take them with them.

When once settled in the temporary house, all should be found out that there is to be found out about the points of interest in the neighbourhood, and all these should be visited; as a rule, a local guide-book is very little real use; but one should always be obtained and studied in connection with the county history. One’s holiday is a thousand times more profitable and pleasant if we see all there is to be seen, and do not waste our time listening to an inferior band, or hanging about on the pier, wearing smart clothes, which are entirely out of place by the sea.

Indeed, blue serge should be the only wear, as far as young people are concerned, with flannels for boys. I remember how wretched we used to be over our light print and muslin frocks; in consequence of which I have always taken care our children should never have anything that they had to think about on the shore. Half our pleasure used to be spoiled by the idea that we should have to pay for it by being scolded by our governess for the sandy, wet garments, inseparable from any real play by the fascinating sea. Now, with the high india-rubber boots we buy at Scarborough, and serge skirts, and under-drawers of serge, no girl can possibly harm, paddle how she may; while the same high boots and serge or flannel suits make the boys quite happy. The boots protect the feet from possible cuts, and do away with any hygienic difficulties; many people refusing to allow their children to paddle because feet should not be wet if the heads cannot be wet too; the feet do not get wet in these high boots, and therefore, provided with them, the last objection to paddling is quite done away with; and without paddling, what is the seashore? Very little to the children, who cannot have too much of this most delightful amusement. The sea is the best holiday companion one can have. I therefore most strongly advise all who are bent on a holiday for the children to take them to the sea and not to the inland country; where, if it be wet, mud keeps them prisoners, whereas by the sea rain dries up at once, and there is always something to look at; for, of course, the ideal holiday house faces the sea, and has a good view of whatever is going on.

And now, having said all I can about the children’s holiday, let me add just a few words about sharing the holiday, if in any way possible, with some child or someone who cannot afford to go away at all, unless a friendly invitation manages this for them.

I have written very little about charities in this book, but I could have set down much on the subject, and I may say that the truest of all charities is that which quietly and unostentatiously helps that most unfortunate, most deserving of all classes—the poor lady or gentleman, who is too well-born to be assisted with money, but who requires help a thousand times more than the very, very poor to whom one can give a few shillings. No one ever thinks of the over-worked, underpaid curate or the orphan child. We could, when we take our house for the holidays, surely reserve a corner for them. They are pleasant visitors, and we shall have the delightful feeling that while our children have been gaining strength we have helped others to do the same. Most people contrive to have visitors while they are away; let them be those who would not have gone away at all had we not asked them to come to us while we are at the sea. They can generally manage the railway fare, while of course we can judiciously contrive that they are not forced into any expense for excursions if we take them; we can easily manage this if we have the smallest tact, while of course we must not affront them by boldly offering to pay their fare, but if we are accustomed to go first-class, and yet know third-class would suit our friend’s pocket better, we can all go third boldly; it will not hurt us one bit, and it will save them from the unpleasantness of spending more than they can afford, or of being paid for by us, which would be terrible for them.

There is still another holiday of which I wish to speak, and then I shall lay down my pen and close my book, and that is the yearly honeymoon-holiday all husbands and wives should try and manage to take together.