WOMAN'S WORLD.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12849, 6 July 1907, Page 7

WOMAN'S WORLD.

LIFE ON £85 PER ANNUM. (By Helen Bridgoman, in the "Westminster Gazette") There are *o many of us nowadays 1 It behoves us to take enreful stock of the things that can bo done on a tiny income, and then to cut our coat according to our cloth, setting ourselves to extract all tho comfort and pleasure, both for ourselves and others, which can bo had, and resolutely turning our back upon fhoso that cannot. Let us take the case of an educated woman left to face tho world alone on an income of less than a- hundred a year. Upon this she must live, in sickness and in health; she is, we will suppose, neither particularly strong nor particularly domesticated. What is the best way in which to apportion her income ?

I suggest that, for those who love quiet, who can find happiness in the changing beauty of tho seasons, who can enjoy n garden and plenty of time for reading, that they should try a country cottage. I think I hear th© cry of derision with which this suggestion is greeted by those to whom the idea of an independent dwelling on anything less than two hundred a year has always seemed hopeless. But I speak of that which I know by experience. In any part of the country which is remote from a station a cottage can be had for from five to ten pounds a year, including sufficient ground for vegetables and flowers. They contain from five to seven rooms'—none of them large, so very little would furnish them. To those who have no furniture would come the initial expense, which would mean either the realisation of capital or borrowing. In either case the annual expenditure must include a small sum for repayment of this capital outlay. Ten pounds for each-sitting room, eight for each bedroom, and five for the kitchen should euffice. Say forty pounds in all. Now for the weekly payments. I take the case' of a lady living alone with a maid: — £ s. d. Bread and flour ... ... 0 110 Groceries (including dog-bis- .. cuits) ... ... , ... 0 5 0 •Meat ... ... ...0 6 0 Milk, eggs, butter ... ... 0 3 2 Washing 0 1 6 Wages 0 2 6 Oil .... 0 0 6 Newspaper ... ... 0 0 6 Total £1 1 0 I am reckoning milk at 3d per quart, butter at Is per pound, and allowing a pint and a half of milk daily and a pound and a half of butter weekly. Oil, though allowed for on the weekly expenses, is re"ally better bought in a forty-gallon cask, at 7d per gallon; otherwise it would cost from 8d to 10a per gallon, according to season. I burn four tons of coal a year, and get a good quality at 22s per ton. My maid had one situation before she camo to mc, and knows how,to do cleaning thoroughly, to cook a joint and vegetables, and to manage fires and lamps. I supply the extras, including the washing of certain small articles. So now wo saj-: £ fi. d. Housekeeping (exclusive of coal) 54 12 0 Coal 4 8 0 Rent, rat*, and taxes ... 610 0 Gardener (rough digging only) 10 0 Vegetable and flower seeds 010 0 Repayment of capital ... 50 0 Clothes and library subscription ... ... ••• 13 0 0 Total £85 0 0 -Q c. r>. I assure you that you can dross on next to nothing in a quiet country village, and yet look as well as your neighbours ; moreover, 1 have fr.und, from personal experience, that aeimply dre»;pd woman, living in what is practioally a labourer's cottage, albeit dotached, can yet have a most cosy anl pretty home, and have all the nice peoplo for miles round on her visiting fistl Let mo picture a day in winter and one in summer for those who love th-j country as T lovo it, and they will judg<j if ,they, too, could, not be happy in a web country home of their owm. Oh! the charm of those words, C/ My very own!" It i« eight o'clock as a tap comes at my bedroom door, followed by what Besant once described as "a procession of two"—my little maid with the breakfast tray and lettere, and a big dog, the guardian of the establishment, and a great pet withal. Aβ the blind goes up the outside world is revealed bleak and grey, and I realise that winter has us in hie grip. Well wrapped in a thick bed-jacket, I breakfast, read my letters, and talk to tho dog; then snuggle down again for a final.warm before the plunge out into the cold. My toilfet performed, I descend to make that of the dog, to dust the drawing-room, and begin preparations for dinner, leaving exact directions with the little maid as to how each thing is to be finished. She is a bright little girl, and interested »n cooking, so ehe rarely forget* what she has to do. "But I can't cook myself so how could: I manage?" say some. To which I re-ply, "Noitner could I when I began; but I got a simple cookerybook ; used a little common-sense, and rarely have a failure." After all, you are alone; the country girl, whose only situation hitherto has been in a farmhouse, will not oavil if everything i* not ac a chef would turn it out. Well wrapped up, end with a muffwarmer full of boiling water m my muff, the dog and I started off for a long cross-country ramble. Our way takes us up hill and down dale, over a breesy common, where the dog chases rabbits to his heart's content, and the freshness of tho air makes one want to sing for sheer joy in living. On oar homeward way we call at a charming littl* house where live two charming old ladies, who are my kind guides in gardening matters. My ignorance in such is still encyclopaedic; but they are patient and thorough in their teachin/, , ml say encouragingly that lam getting on. With an armful of flowers, despite the temperature, I return hungrily to dinner; then indulge in a short nap, from which a visitor

rouses mc. The newcomer is" a booklover; so we revel in a book gossip and tea by the fireside. After supper I settle down to serious reading, broken, perhaps, by half an hour's music; but bed-time always takes mc by. surprise. Such, is a specimen ci what my town friends" call "a long, dreary, day." - Now for a summer day. • This time you find mc at breakfast in the garden in the exquisite freshness and sweetness of an English summer .morning. So delightful is it that.it fe difficult to do anything but simply enjoy. How-, ever, there are various matters in the garden which even I not only know ought to be done, but am ablo to do. So I mix * dressing of soapsuds and wash off greenfly, cut off dead blossoms, pull up weeds, etc., and then gather fruit and vegetables for the day's use, also flowers to aond away. These are left to stand in water till it is time to pack them for tho evening post; this ensures their arrival in good condition. "No more 'indoors* till evening is well advanced," I decide, so take out books and work to a shfrdy spot find read, sew, write, and sleep till tea-time, after which the flowers are packed, taken to the post-office, and I go off for a long walk through woods and fields, losing my way, coming out unexpectedly through, other people's gardens—no ono minding in the least!—and so homo through-,the lovely sunset light to the dear little eottn'ge in its fragrant garden. How I lovo it! And other people love it, tool For seventeen weeks this year, with only two intervals of two days each, have I had frionds staying. I have boon a\tay for two months, and it is only October «s I write. It is a simple life, but how docs it compare with experiences of "paying gueste" m struggling households or with existenco in lodgings or boarding-house* P I speak, of course, of such as can bo found on an income of £85a