Believe me, yours sincerely, ——.
An old favourite story writer—we wonder if our readers can guess the writer by the style!—sends the following:
Many thanks for the lovely number! I wish I could live in the Vicar of Wakefield’s room on the first page. How nice if we could all dine there on a summer evening!
Is it 1000 weeks ago since you started the Girl’s Own Paper? Old days come back—I go into Cassell’s and see you for the first time. And then I think of the old kindness and faithful friendship, and feel inclined to cry a little! You have done a wonderful work for girls; you have directed their feet to that narrow path in which alone they can find peace. It is a path that runs beside the Living Waters. Because it is so narrow the women of to-day are demanding a wider range, and so go a-wandering. Yesterday I received a copy of the —— from the editor, who asks for a portrait and sketch. In it there is rather a strong paper on the Religion of Women, or, rather, their irreligion. In my sketch, I ventured to touch on the true freedom that can only be obtained through restraint, and on the discipline of the interior life.
I think we can see very clearly that Almighty God has blessed you in your work, and I feel sure that you will be helped and strengthened to the end. This is my prayer for you.
One of our musical contributors sends a spirited setting (we have great pleasure in printing it in this Number) of Miss Burnside’s “Success and Long Life to the ‘G. O. P.,’” published in the 1000th Number, with the following kind words:
Best of Friends,—I enclose a little memento of the 1000th Number, over which and its editor we pray for the best of luck.
The enclosed “phrases” may seem rather trite, but equally trite is fast friendship, ripened affection and a grateful heart, of all of which accept this token from
Your Old Contributor.
A brother Editor, who has for many years afforded us friendly counsel and encouragement, but who is now, alas! no longer near at hand, sends the following: