Chapter XI: Bedrooms (2)

Another thing that I should like to speak of is the necessity of always having a clean brush and comb in the toilet drawer. A friend comes in unexpectedly to luncheon or dinner, and we are struck with dismay to find that it is the day before our own particular brushes are to be washed, and we have none fit to give her. If we always keep a ‘company brush and comb’ we need never be put to confusion as we otherwise should, for often, in dusty weather particularly, and especially if we drive much, our brushes look black almost after once using, and are not suitable to give a friend, without being really dirty.

This said washing of brushes is a vexed question. I have a friend who is so particular about hers that she never uses them more than once, and then has them washed rapidly in hot soapsuds. By holding the backs in her hand so that they do not touch the water, and thus only immersing the bristles, she gets them clean without spoiling them; they are dried in the fender, and she always has six brushes in use. Now, I think if we have three in use, and have them washed in routine, one a day, so as always to have one clean one ready for a friend, we shall do very well. And I think 5_s._ or 6_s._ ample to give for a brush; I have had some excellent ones from Whiteley’s at 4_s._ 11_d._ and 4_s._ 6_d._ If we buy extravagantly dear brushes, we grudge their wear and tear and their numerous washings; but inexpensive ones can be kept cleaner, because we can more easily afford to buy new ones if we do not give too much at first. The old silver brushes at 5_l._, and beautiful ivory-backed ones at almost any price we like to give, are delightful to possess; but unless we can constantly renew the bristles, they soon get useless, and as we can’t do that we must be content with ordinary ones; which same remark applies to combs. I like a black vulcanite at 1_s._ 9_d._ or 2_s._ better than any, for a comb is difficult to keep really nice, and one does not mind throwing a soiled or broken one away if one can easily and cheaply replace it.

Still, if Angelina should have beautiful brushes given to her in her collection of wedding gifts, I strongly counsel her to keep them by her for visiting and travelling, and to get other cheaper ones for every day; and this same remark applies to tortoiseshell combs. I like better things for visiting myself, and I am sure Angelina should keep her best brushes for this purpose. If the toilet-table is chosen with brackets, cut and scented flowers should never be allowed there. A few ferns and immortelles look nice, especially the pretty pink everlastings one can buy in the summer, but scented flowers are bad for a bedroom, though I much recommend a growing plant or two; they look nice, and are very healthy; but no flowers here even; a fern, a small palm, or the ubiquitous aspidistra being all to be preferred, because the leaves give out a healthy atmosphere, and are therefore useful as well as ornamental, while strongly scented blossoms poison the air and render it heavy and unfit for a sleeper to breathe.

Without going to the outrageous lengths some lovers of fresh air consider necessary, I strongly advise every one to try and sleep with some little bit of window open. I always do in summer with all that I can, in winter with one or two at the top only. The sudden change in temperature that makes this dangerous is guarded against by having an extra wrap handy on a chair, or thrown over the foot of the bed, which can be drawn up if the change becomes perceptible; but I am certain that two people in one room should never sleep with all the windows and doors shut, and I have never slept with mine closed, since I can recollect, without waking with a headache and a feeling of lassitude, though, of course, when I lived in London itself the noise was very trying, yet I became accustomed even to that; and I put down my singular immunity from colds to this habit of mine, and also to the open windows and doors that I always insist upon, and that for some part of the day always remain open, winter and summer, though the moment the sun goes, or rather begins to go, down, all windows, in the winter and autumn, should be rigorously closed, with the exception of about a quarter of an inch at the top.

But then, in connection with my open-air fad, I am a great advocate for good, jolly fires, and I do believe bedroom fires save a great amount of doctors’ bills. Open your window a little, and have a fire, if you can possibly manage it, and I am sure you will all find a great difference in the expense. Of course this adds to the servant’s work; but if she objects, equalise matters by helping her with the beds, and in dusting, and in a thousand-and-one little ways. I am sure you will not repent it.

Fires warm the whole house, take off the damp, raw feeling that is so trying in our English atmosphere, and give a cheerful feel and look that cannot be too highly esteemed. I would rather do without anything than a fire, and even in the height of summer the instant it rains I have my fires set going, with the windows open, not so much for the mere warmth of course, but to dry the atmosphere and prevent the house-walls from becoming chilled and damp and dangerous to health; while for three parts of the year they are emphatically a necessity, unless we want the doctor’s gig or brougham to be always turning in at our front gate.

I could write pages about fires, I am so certain that in England nothing is saved by scrimping the coal, but I must not dwell upon this subject. I must pass on to the washing-stands, of which here are two drawings from Mr. Smee’s designs, and which I consider the very perfection of stands. I prefer the larger one of the two, not because I could for one moment contemplate the odious notion of a double washing apparatus, but because the smaller one does not seem to me to have room for sponge-dish and all the etceteras one requires; but, of course, if the room were a small one, the single washing-stand would be best, because in that case space would be an object, and by placing a long painted shelf, or one of those nice little hanging sets of shelves, half cupboard, half bookcase, over it, we could obtain a place to put extra articles on. These washing-stands in the best materials come to 5_l._ 5_s._ each. The drawing, I think, will need but small explanation from me, as it will show exactly the proper style for a washing-stand; but I should like my readers to notice that the high-tiled back prevents the wall being spoiled, and does away with the idea of a ‘splasher’ being required, that the towels are to be hung on the round rails provided for them, and that the deep cupboards are especially to be commended, doing away as they do with any necessity for an extra piece of furniture, and they can also be used for bottles of medicine, Angelina’s private duster, which she should keep in every room, cardboard boxes, and other trifles that are too useful to throw away and yet require to be hidden from sight.

There is no doubt in my mind that the Beaufort ware sold by Maple is the nicest and prettiest for bedroom use. It is pure white, and a most charming shape. The jug has a double lip, and the handles are in the centre, like a basket, simulating a twisted rope. The basin &c. have all handles and embellishments of the same rope-like design, and the cost is 17_s._ 6_d._ The ware is most excellent, and though much cheaper ware is, of course, to be procured, pretty blue and white sets being purchasable at 3_s._ 11½_d._, my white set exists triumphantly, after eleven years’ wear and two moves, while I have bought more cheap sets for those all-devouring locusts the boys and the maids than I care to think about. I am convinced, therefore, that very cheap china for bedroom use is a mistake, for good ware stands rough usage much better, and therefore is cheaper in the end.

It is well, too, to buy the ware as much alike as possible for two or even three rooms, as nothing is so difficult to match as this. Before I became in the least _au fait_ at these small contrivances that save so much, I had quite a regiment of ewerless basins and basinless ewers that had accumulated because I found it impossible to get them matched, and having them made was almost, nay quite, as costly as a new set. Of course, these were gradually used up, and not very gradually either, alas! by the servants; but they were ever so much too good for their heedless clutches, and I should have been saved a great deal had I had the sense to buy two sets alike, instead of exercising my taste by seeing how many different ones I could possess myself of.

Ware now is so extremely cheap that it is perhaps not of such vital consequence as it used to be to do this; still, as I had the other day to give 4_s._ for a jug to match a basin belonging to a set the whole of which cost only 5_s._, I think it is still worth mentioning, as it may save Angelina something, and every shilling is often a consideration to young beginners. The blue and white ware at about 5_s._ a set is good enough for any room, but, of course, Maple’s white Beaufort ware is much prettier; and Mortlock, of Oxford Street, has or had some artistic pale blue, yellow, and red sets that would be lovely in a room that was furnished entirely in one of these colours. The soap-dish &c. are included in the cheap prices, but not a sponge dish. This should always be bought. Not only does it save the sponge from becoming sticky and unpleasant, but it saves the wall and floor from those detestable continuous dribbles of water that are the outcome of a sponge-basket, that may be all very well in theory, but is worse than useless in practice. A sponge-dish has all proper drainage, and may be more expensive at first, but, like a great many other expensive things, saves the whole of its cost in the long run.

The covers of the soap and toothbrush dishes should never be left on; the soap lasts ever so much longer than when it is shut up, and, of course, the veriest ignoramus knows the effect on one’s toothbrush if it is kept covered over. I infinitely prefer to have a tall species of spill-holder or a rack for tooth and nail brushes, as this allows them to drain; and for servants’ bedrooms one can buy iron things at 6½_d._ to hold the soap and two toothbrushes as well. These are not bad for schoolboys’ rooms, as they are not ugly, but are not suitable for grown-up people’s rooms, who are supposed reasonably to take care of their things; but with the Beaufort ware the ordinary dish for toothbrushes is sent, and is therefore used, but without the cover.

I always keep on my washing-stand one of Perry’s invaluable sixpenny sticks of ink-eraser. I sometimes ink my fingers dreadfully, but nothing is too bad for Perry, whose delightful stick comes into use, and cleans away the stains directly. This, too, must not be put into confinement, as it becomes soft and melts away rapidly if it is.

For the tooth-water and glass, I most thoroughly recommend the charming little sets we buy at Douglas’s glass-shop in Piccadilly. For 1_s._ 6_d._, 2_s._, and even less (I have bought a green set there for 9_d._), one buys the prettiest possible glass jugs and glasses, and they are ever so much nicer than the old-fashioned glass water-bottles and tumblers; they are charming to look at, and far more easily kept clean. There are blue, red, green, and shades of opal; and the gas-globes should match. The best gas-globes are the tinted green globes, pinched in here and there in folds, which are 1_s._ 4½_d._ at Whiteley’s, and 3_s._ and 4_s._ at any other shop--why, I don’t know. The opal glasses are prettier, but then they are dearer. A dozen towels should be allowed to each washing-stand: four a week, or even three, are enough for most people. One big Turkish towel is indispensable for the bath, and a clean towel should be always on the second rail ready for the visitor, for whom we have already provided the hairbrush.

To every room should be apportioned a hot-water jug or can. There are none so good as the charming brass cans at 7_s._ 6_d._ The painted ones soon become shabby, and always smell of paint directly the hot water is put in; and not at all a bad plan is to have a brass label chained to the handle of the can, with the room’s name on to which the can belongs. Cheaper brass cans can be had, but they hold less water, and as they have no cover the water very soon becomes cold. A larger oak-painted can should be provided for the housemaid. This she should use for refilling the ewers, and to bring larger quantities of water if a foot-bath is required in one’s own room; but the foot-bath and also the slop-pails should be all of white china, and intense cleanliness should be insisted on, especially for the last-named articles, which never, even in the smallest establishment, should be made of anything save earthenware. These china ones cost 4_s._ 9_d._, and have a basket-work handle and a china cover. They should be scalded out every day with hot water and a little chloride of lime, chloride of lime being kept in any separate place, ready for use where there are any drains.

Before passing to the dressing-room, which should open, if possible, out of the bedroom, there are still one or two more trifles that can be mentioned in connection with it, as on trifles after all depend a great deal of our comfort, more especially in the upstairs department, and a sleepless night might often be prevented were some of the commonest precautions taken to insure rest.

One thing no dweller in the ordinary suburban residence should be without, and that is a wedge of wood attached to a brass chain to each window, ready to wedge the window closely together should a storm suddenly arise in the night. Who has not risen irate at the dismal rattling, and crammed in anything--toothbrush, comb, or what not--sacrificing often enough one or the other in one’s rage at not being able in a moment to put a stop to this intolerable nuisance? Now a wedge ready to hand, nailed to the window by its chain, so that it cannot be lost or mislaid, obviates all this, and the window is secured at once and rest is insured simply by a little precaution and forethought. I believe that Whiteley keeps these wedges, but I used to buy mine of a clergyman in Dorset, who made them beautifully, and sold them in bunches in aid of the fund for restoring his church, and so popular were they that he made quite a nice little sum by their sale; but then Dorset is a very windy county, and I think the windows there rattle more than anywhere else.

Another thing should be secured, and that is a matchbox nailed to the wall, close by the bed, and the servant should be strictly forbidden ever to take the matches from one room to another; there should be a match-box _nailed on_ in each room and in the passages, and Angelina should see herself that matches are never lacking there. I buy Bryant and May’s boxes, but not their matches, as they are expensive, but I always have tiny boxes of Swedish matches at 5_s._ the gross, a gross lasting me considerably over a year; naturally I keep them locked in a store cupboard, in a room where there is sufficient warmth to keep them dry, and the maids have to ask me for them when they are required. When I used Bryant and May’s matches and had them in as wanted from the grocer, I never spent less than 6_d._ and sometimes 1_s._ a week upon them, so I consider my present plan worth mentioning, for the save is really great, and in these small items much can be economised, if only one has a little knowledge and keeps one’s eyes open. But the matchboxes and wedges must be nailed on, or else they will disappear in the same extraordinary way pins and hair-pins always contrive to do. Then, in bedrooms and sitting-rooms alike, I have the most delightful tiny brass hooks on which I hang a hearth-brush, for I have an immense dislike to an untidy and dirty hearth. As my old nurse used to say, ‘These sort of things don’t eat anything,’ and a brush lasts five times as long if it have not to migrate from one room to another, and can instead have its own especial hook. You can buy ugly black hearth-brushes at 1_s._ 3_d._, but I always buy brass ones at 4_s._ 11½_d._ They last for years and years, and then can have new bristles added at the cost of 1_s._; they look nice too, and are always to hand when wanted.

One of the principal things to remember all through these household arrangements surely is this: a place for everything, and everything in its place; time, temper, wear and tear of nerves, and servants being saved a thousand times over by this simple remedy. If the brush be in its place there is no need for Angelina to ring up tired Mary Jane to make a tidy hearth. The hot-water cans on their shelves in the bath-room, or in the pantry if there be no bath-room, allow of Angelina getting her own hot water if the maid be busy or out of the way, and so on through all the details of domesticity, which will only dovetail in a little house if this principle of tidiness and thought animates the mistress. And here let me beg that Angelina will resist with her might getting into the bad habit of putting her boots on and buttoning them on her nice cretonne chair covers. I mean the habit of putting the foot up on the chairs while she fastens the buttons. I once had a visitor staying with me who cut out a whole set of chair cushions in the month or six weeks she was with me; and I discovered she had brass tips to her heels, and these had cut out tiny holes all over the cushions, spoiling them utterly; all because she had acquired this very bad habit. If Angelina cannot button her boots without this action, she should take care never to put her heel on the chair; to keep to one for the process; and, if possible, to put down something, if only a scrap of paper, under the toe of the boot, which must soil the cushion, even if it do nothing worse.

I have in my time suffered so much from careless and inconsiderate visitors that I cannot help giving these little hints on which any newly married girl can act if she will. Example speaks louder than precept, and if Angelina scouts such actions herself, she influences her servants, and suggests to her visitors tidy habits, that may benefit her later on, if not on the first visit. I shall never forget one dreadful visitor I had--a visitor who was possessed of the damp, unpleasant hobby of searching in ditches and hedge-bottoms for clammy and awful things which she insisted on bringing home and investigating by the aid of a microscope. I should not have minded this one bit, if she had done it in a room we had, where the boys made messes, and that nothing could hurt; but I had just had my spare room done up, and the effect was so terrible I have never forgotten it to this day. It was such a pretty flowery room, too, that it deserves a word of description. The effect was purple and green, and the paper was guelder-roses and heliotrope--not at all a bad mixture of colour, remember, and one that lights up well; the paint was all the dull Japanese green varnished that is _not_ arsenical; and that is very artistic, and by great good luck I found a charming French cretonne of the same style and almost the same pattern as the paper, and this I used as dado fixed with a dull green rail of ‘scantling,’ and as panels in the shutters and doors. I had a nice little brass bedstead, with a gold and white embroidered Liberty quilt trimmed round with ball fringe, and furniture, with gold, green, and blue and red tapestry covers on toilet, chest of drawers, and a new pincushion box covered with the same, and all trimmed with ball fringe. There was a nice new box-ottoman for hats and bonnets, a most useful possession for any one, especially if it be divided in two layers with a cheap tray, also covered with cretonne, new matting, and nice Liberty rugs on the floor, and several newly framed photographs on the walls; besides this there was a pretty table covered with plush, for a writing-table, duly furnished with blotter, inkstand, and wastepaper basket, &c.; a charming basket-chair, and two other chairs in pretty cretonnes, and odds and ends in the shape of ornaments. There were two gas brackets, so I did not have any candles in the room. I never have if I can help it; the servants are apt to light them and drop the grease about, so unless specially desired I never put candles anywhere, and I am more than thankful that in this case of which I am writing I did nothing of the kind, for my excellent housemaid came to me one morning when my friend was out ‘bog-trotting’--or whatever the word for the occupation is--and, with a face of horror, begged me to come into the spare room before Mrs. W. returned, as she really did not know how she was going to get it straight again.

Shall I ever forget my anguish! On the bed, on the top of the new quilt, were spread specimens of all the nastinesses she had collected; on the brass rail and hanging on the dado, on nails stuck in for the purpose, and from most of the picture-nails, were mounted ghastlinesses on sheets of paper that were drying in a fine breeze coming straight into the room, laden with any amount of September damp and mist; the oil from the microscope lamp was on every chair and every table, and a perfect regiment of muddy boots and bedraggled skirts, cast about everywhere, spoke volumes of the extent of Mrs. W.’s wardrobe, and her ingenuity in filling up every hole and corner of that new and once pretty room.

And all this was caused just by a little lack of thought and care for other people’s things, for, as I said before, we had, and generally have, a large unfurnished room, sacred to boys, where she could have done her worst and injured no one, for she might have nailed her nails and hung up specimens to her heart’s content, and only pleased the legitimate owners of that chamber. I also forgot to mention that on the newly painted mantelpiece was a row of bottles full of dirty water, all of which either leaked or else had been put down there, wet from the ditches from which they had been filled, and to find room for them all my ornaments had been dislodged and were missing. We found them afterwards in bits, more or less, at the bottom of the ottoman, the top of which was spoiled by being used as a ‘boot-rest’ for Mrs. W. when she either wished to button or unbutton those articles of attire. When she had left me I simply had to do that room at the cost of 5_l._ or 6_l._, which I did not want, naturally, to spend, but my friend has never been to stay with me again, and she never will. I have told this long story, which I did not mean to go in for when I began my chapter, to point out to Angelina another caution. When ‘things’ are once nice and in order they require incessant care, if Angelina has been carelessly brought up, and if she has not acquired really nice habits; but if she avoids messing and is duly careful, her possessions will last her years, and give very little trouble. One more thing to remember is that, unless the door be provided with a curtain suspended from one of Maple’s invaluable 7_s._ 9_d._ rods, nothing should induce Angelina to depend her dresses from crooks fixed into the doors. It spoils them, as they are exposed both to sun and dust, and the look of it is so unpleasantly suggestive of Bluebeard’s wives that this is a habit that cannot, I think, be too strongly condemned. Besides, I remember dresses being torn and spoiled by being shut into doors and then taken down without seeing they are shut in; which is an argument against hanging them there at all, even covered with a curtain. Still, in a small house and with a large amount of clothing, a door is sometimes very ‘handy’ as an overflow wardrobe, and then a curtain arranged as suggested above is a _sine quâ non_.

One need not go to very much expense about bedroom chairs. Old worn-out drawing-room occasional chairs can be made beautiful for bedroom use by painting them blue to match the suite with Aspinall’s hedge-sparrow’s-egg blue enamel paint; particularly if one buys cushions, which are sold, I believe, both at Maple’s and Whiteley’s very cheaply, for about 1_s._ 2_d._ These should be re-covered with odds and ends of Liberty’s Mysore cretonne; the yellow and white, blue and white, and terra-cotta and white being all admirable--with the particular shade of blue paint, I mean. The best bedroom chairs are these painted chairs, or else the black-framed Beaconsfield chairs, rush-seated, and also supplied with cushions in frilled cases, the cases being buttoned on so as to be easily removed for the wash, and the cushions supplied with tapes, so that they are fixed to the chairs, and neither move about when one is sitting upon them nor drop on when least expected.

There is no doubt that pictures should always be on a bedroom wall. Pictures and picture-frames are so cheap nowadays that some can generally be afforded even at first. Of course these gradually accumulate, and in years to come the walla will doubtless be decorated with photographs of the children at different stages; but Angelina’s wedding photographs will be useful at first, and I cannot imagine a nicer wedding present than some of the exquisite photographs from the old masters that one buys ready framed at a shop close to Regent Circus, the name of which I have forgotten, but which is between the Circus and the meeting hall of the Salvation Army. These are not at all expensive; for 10_s._ and 15_s._ each quite large and most beautiful photographs can be obtained, and Angelina would have a vast amount of pleasure out of 10_l._ spent judiciously on these lovely photographs for the adornment of her house, especially of her bedroom. These make admirable presents for young girls, who can none of them be taught too early to take a great pride in their bedrooms, and to accumulate there their own belongings in the way of pictures, books, and ornaments. I love to see a girl ‘house-proud,’ as the Germans say; and my own house, when I married first, was made habitable only because of the judicious manner in which my dear mother had impressed on me to take care of, and pride in, the many little sketches, engravings, and photographs I used to have given me. We were exceptionally lucky in that way, as of course we had a great many artistic friends; but still, all girls should remember they may have houses of their own, and always must have one room of their own, and should be taught to pride themselves on having pretty and artistic chambers sacred to their own use.

Naturally two sisters often have to occupy one room, but this need not alter the idea, and I would rather a girl cared for her room, and collected pictures, books, and china for that, than see her crave for ornaments and jewellery, which can give but very little pleasure as contrasted with pretty and delightfully artistic surroundings.

Angelina’s task of making her bedroom pretty will be so much lightened if she has begun collecting treasures as soon as she was promoted to a room to herself, that I may, perhaps, be forgiven if I impress this fad of mine on all my readers, young and old; for mothers of growing daughters can perhaps benefit by an idea that may be useful to them, and of which it is just possible they may not have thought themselves; and I should let (as I do let) my daughter begin her collection as soon as she is old enough to value having her very own things, even to the sheets, pillow-cases, and towels, which she can embroider herself, and to a small collection of silver and china and pictures, added to, on birthdays and at Christmas, with an eye to a house of her own some day; or even a couple of rooms, when she may end an honoured career of ‘old maidism,’ made all the lighter and pleasanter by the store of pleasant memories secured to her by her possessions, which thus serve a double duty, and are both artistic and useful too.

If Angelina cannot afford pictures in any way, she can, no doubt, afford brackets. These are very cheap indeed in carved wood (which can be painted to match the room), would hold a scrap of blue and white china, and can be made even more decorative if surrounded by a ‘trophy’ or artistic arrangement of the ever-useful Japanese fans, one of which should be covered with silk and plush, and made into a bed-pocket for handkerchief, watch, or keys, although I like my watch in evidence, as then one sees exactly what time it is, and if it is the hour to rise, or to put out the gas, if one indulges, as I do, in the fascinating but wrong habit of reading in bed. I have a long bookcase in my room, as shown in the drawing on page 72, and this is full of bound magazines to fall back upon, should my own book be exhausted before I feel inclined to go to sleep. Even if the windows are open the serge curtains should be drawn, I think, unless one requires to get up very early, as I do not believe the brain ever really rests if there be much light in the room. That is another objection to blinds; they are never _dark enough_. The serge curtains are cheaper, and keep out the strongest sunlight there is.

I do not think what are generically known as ‘short blinds’ ever look nice in any bedroom. I can remember, however, when to have white curtains there to match, or in some measure go with those in the rest of the house, was considered the height of reckless extravagance, and a sure index of the bad financial position of the person who was sinful enough to indulge in them!

Of course if we live with opposite neighbours’ eyes straight upon us we must cover our windows, or run the risk of being seen at our toilet; but even then we can curtain them by using the frequently advised double fixed rods, either covering the lower sash entirely with a full fluted blind of coloured Liberty muslin, or by draping the entire window--always the prettiest way of setting to work--with frilled muslin curtains meeting down the centre and almost covering the glass, at all events covering it completely if it be necessary to do so (see page 60). And now opinion on this subject has changed so much, we can afford to have our windows all look alike without exciting dismal prophecies from people who really know nothing at all about us.

Remember no house can possibly look pretty where white curtains are conspicuous by their absence, any more than a girl can look pretty if she has neither nice frilling or spotless collar and cuffs as a finish to her costume. And by white curtains I mean muslin curtains of almost any colour, with some white in them. Dark _thin_ curtains are an abomination, I think. I once lived opposite some dark green muslin ones that made me always feel the owners were dirty people, although I knew quite well they were not. Muslin and guipure curtains, nicely made and fixed, are my pet curtains, and next to these come Liberty’s printed muslins and cheap artistic muslins, though I have seen soft-hued silks used to great advantage in town houses; but this is, I should think, far too expensive for us, modest beginners as we are. White Madras muslin is not economical, as it cannot be said to wash well. It shrinks, pulls crooked, and generally loses all its colour in a most distressing manner the first, and always the second, time it pays a visit to the laundress, and if we cannot have guipure and muslin we must fall back on plain or printed muslin only. Cretonne curtains for a bedroom must invariably be lined if no blinds are used; and a very good thing to do in a very sunny room is to put an inner lining of very dark green twill inside the cretonne lining, so that it shall not show, thus insuring the darkness that I consider so necessary in a sleeping-room, the brain, as I said before, refusing absolutely to rest if much light comes across the eyes, and this is why a bed should never face the window, as this insures light of some sort falling on the face of the sleeper.

To sum up briefly, one’s bedroom should be pretty, tasteful, and quiet, and should be as much thought about and kept as carefully as the grandest sitting-room we possess; and I may further mention, for those who cannot purchase Aspinall’s enamel in hedge-sparrow’s-egg blue, that a very decent substitute can be made from Prussian blue, middle Brunswick green, white lead, oil, and varnish, and just a little black paint or ochre to tone it all down. This must be mixed until the colour is precisely that of a hedge-sparrow’s egg or very old turquoise, and is very troublesome to get right; therefore the above receipt will only be really of use to those of my colonial readers who may not be able to obtain Mr. Aspinall’s invaluable enamels for home-decoration.