Isabel.—The Editor regrets to decline Isabel’s poem, but is much obliged for her good opinion of the G.O.P.
Eileen.—Is the poem meant for blank verse? If so, it is incorrect in its construction, and many of the expressions used are very unpoetical.
Miss Greenwood.—The lines you send us are fairly correct, and show cleverness and a certain facility in writing. With practice you ought to do much better.
Annie Maggs.—Water for drinking should always be filtered; but the impurities in it would vary in different localities. In some they would arise from decayed vegetation. Boiled water is the safest to drink.
Maud Morley.—A vamper means one who vamps, or pieces an old thing with something new. It is not always applied to shoes and boots, for in some parts of England “to vamp” means to bully or bluster, and in others it means to travel, while in Swift’s writings we find the sentence, “I never had much hopes of your vamped-up play.”
R. M. A. and Others.—1. None of the handwritings are pretty, but all distinct and easy to read. 2. Sir John Lubbock’s “Best Hundred Books” would serve as a guide; also two very good articles in the Leisure Hour of last year, on the same subject, would contain all the information needful.
Lady Irene Dale had better send for our paper-pattern of “a bodice to take the place of stays,” which she will see advertised in the monthly list given at the end of every article on “Dress: in Season and in Reason,” by the “Lady Dressmaker.”
N. Wales.—We recommend you to have nothing to do with the description of experiments to which you refer. As our magazine is not a medium for any kind of controversy, we do not name the subject to which you refer; but we may tell you that we highly disapprove of them. We are glad that your father and brothers like our magazine.
Goody Two-Shoes.—1. We think you must have made a mistake, and that your bad dreams were the results of your suppers, not of your abstinence from them. As a rule, they are by no means wholesome. The digestive powers are weary after their due work of the day, just as your legs and your brain. They should not be taxed when they need repose. If set to work when tired, the work is only half done, and headaches and blotches in the face, as well as unpleasant dreams, may be expected. A biscuit and a cup of milk might be excepted from this charge, and, possibly, be even desirable. 2. The 16th of August, 1865, was a Wednesday.
Mary Wright (New South Wales).—Your kind letter was very gratifying to us, and we heartily wish you the same blessings that you desire for us.