I am fond of perfumes myself, and so I know just what Elizabeth Rosa means when she sighs: "Oh, how I wish I could have all the violet extract I want! But I cannot afford to buy it, and nobody ever gives me any, except sometimes Aunt Susie at Christmas. There is Lettie, whose writing-paper always reminds you of flowers, a faint far-away sweetness, and Norah, who leaves a dream of roses in the room she has been sitting in, and Eleanor, whose gowns have a delicate fragrance; but there, it's of no use; I am poor, and I can't compete with those girls!"
Really, my dear, your style is poetical. A dream of roses is very impressive. Now let me give you one or two secrets of perfume.
To have your writing-paper, whether note or letter size, or a plain businesslike pad, carry with it a breath of dainty sweetness, you must keep it in tightly closed boxes in which are little packets of orris powder. Your bureau drawers will be perfumed, and the perfume will creep into your handkerchiefs and ribbons and your under-clothing if you will line the drawers with tissue-paper; sprinkle this with powdered orris, and lay a sheet of tissue-paper above it. A prettier way is to make a sachet the exact size of your drawer by quilting orris powder between folds of China silk. Little bags of silk filled with orris and kept in the pockets of your gowns will give them a very delicate fragrance.
A pronounced perfume is vulgar. You must have merely a suggestion of it—a whiff—gone in a breath, not a coarse heavy odor which makes your friends think of musk or patchouly. Perfume poured from a bottle is apt to scent a handkerchief too strongly to please a fastidious taste. You may use your cologne or your violet essence a few drops at a time in the water in which you bathe, or you may finish your toilet by wetting your hands with a tiny drop or two of your favorite perfume. Liquid perfumes must be used sparingly.
In toilet soaps for the face and hands select the nicest you can afford. Do not be afraid to use soap on your face. At least once a day wash it thoroughly with warm water and soap, as only thus can you get rid of the dust which clogs up the fine lace-like net-work of the skin. Make a lather and rub the face thoroughly. Then wash it off with clean water.
I may add that fresh rose leaves sprinkled plentifully in bureau drawers or in the linen closet give a very agreeable perfume to their contents. And we have all heard of the delicate sweetness of sheets and pillow-slips laid away in lavender.
Remember that the nicest people are fastidiously clean. The dainty girl uses a dash of ammonia in the bath, and keeps everything belonging to her spotlessly neat. Clothing should be frequently changed, and every detail of a girl's should be fresh and pure. One who is careful in this way needs no perfume in her toilet.
Margaret E. Sangster.
