A pleasing feature in the competition was that girls, as a general rule, improved as they went on. One who had a third-class place at the start would end in the second rank, and a second-class girl would become a first. This is as it should be. Few—hardly any—began well and then relapsed into inaccuracy and carelessness.
A good number—but not so many as we expected—failed to send in all the three instalments of papers. Sometimes, perhaps, they grew tired, and sometimes illness and circumstances over which they had not control may have prevented them. These, of course—if they have obtained a place at all—have not got so good a place as if they had replied, or tried to reply, to the whole seventy-two questions.
The most important feature of the answers was accuracy, and both in that and in the manner in which the sense was expressed, competitors did very well indeed. Where the answers admitted of a difference of opinion, we saw many signs of intelligence and of a desire to think and investigate for oneself that cannot be too strongly commended and encouraged.
Occasionally girls were rather sparing of their words. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but it does not quench one’s thirst for information. A yes, a no, a name, or a date, neither makes entertaining reading nor forms a sufficient test of a girl’s knowledge of the subject under discussion. But we have nothing but praise for a girl—though she did not win a certificate—who says, “I have not given long answers, but I have done my best.”
We said that neatness would count, and in some cases the want of it was what told against a girl, turning the scale and landing her in a class lower than she would otherwise have occupied.
What reasonable excuse can be given for one who writes, with perhaps careless penmanship, on paper of all sizes, and of different colours too, and with rough edges, as if it had been torn in the rudest manner out of a copybook? If our untidy friends went to call on a stranger, they would surely wish to look smart, and by looking smart to create a good impression. Now, sending even a scrap of paper to anyone—let it be a letter or anything else—to which our name is attached is just like paying a visit. What we send should be made to look as neat as we ourselves would wish to be if we went in person.
We do not say that a good paper in this competition was invariably a neat one, or that originality and freshness had not sometimes an untidy appearance, but the general rule was that if a girl had taken real pains, she showed it in the manner in which she turned out her work, as well as in the matter.
A bit of ribbon, a paper-fastener, an illuminated letter, the ruling of a line, the folding of a page—these may be trifles, but we are judged by trifles when there is no other means of judging. So, you girls who have occasioned these remarks—only a few in number you were—be very careful next time.
Here is another weak point. Why don’t some girls obey rules? The papers were to be fastened together—see the rules—and some did not fasten them. They were to be fastened at the left-hand top corner—see the rules—and some did it on the right. The name was to be put on the back of the last page of each instalment—see the rules—and some put it on the front page. Names and ages were to be given—see the rules—and no fewer than twenty papers failed to find a place because their writers had omitted one or other of these two important particulars.
We want our girls to be models of common sense, and does not common sense suggest that by obeying instructions we get more consideration than if we do not? It is only a bit of worldly wisdom, girls, for all who take part in competitions, that you ought to try to keep examiners in a genial humour. Never ruffle their patience if you can avoid it. Sometimes a little neglect gives a good deal of trouble that ought to have been saved. However, we shall let defaulters off this time with a caution that if they ever appear before our High Court again on a similar charge, we shall be a great deal more severe.