TABLE TALK.

Otago Witness, Issue 2416, 28 June 1900, Page 59

TABLE TALK.

Monday Afternoon

On Friday evening the Misses Logan gave a very pleasant little carpet dance at their residence in Roslyn, when about 20 guests were present.

Miss Bartleman has gone north, and is at present staying with. Mrs Meares, in Christchurch.

Mrs E. C. Reynolds has gone to Wellington for the winter months.

Mr and Mrs Leslie Reynolds and Mrs Denniston left by the Talime last week for Sydney.

On the 14th inst., at Merivale Church, Christchurch, Miss Kinsey, only daughter of Mr J. J. Kinsey, was married to Mr W. A. Moore, of Dunedin. The chancel was prettily decorated by , friends of* the bride with chrysanthemums and palms. Bishop Julius officiated at the ceremony, assisted by the vicar, the Rev. H. Airay Watson. Mr P. Pattullo accompanied Mr Moore as best man. The bride was given away, by her father, and wore a handsome trained gown of cream brocade. The bodice was made in the crossover style, and the skirt with an" overskirt vandyked with pearl trimming and chiffon frills on the underskirt, and the whole trimmed with sprays of orange blossom. Instead of ohe customary veil, she wore a white felt hat edged with grebe and trimmed with white ostrich feathers, and carried a lovely shower bouquet of flowers.

Three bridesmaids M r ere in attendance — Miss Gladys Anderson, Miss Alison Jennings, and Miss Edith Moore. Miss Anderson wore a soft white surah frock, the bodice tucked and a deep collar of electric bl\xe silk covered with, while lace, white chiffon, toques ffiith elec'tr^ blue tips j tfce

was held in Hanan's Hall on Friday evening last. The committee this year consists of Mrs Bush, Mrs Christophers, Miss Guthrie, Mrs Howorth, Mrs Massey, Mrs Macleod, Miss Macdonald, Mrs Sharp, Mrs Stronach, Mi&s N. Thomson, and Miss W. Tucker, the last-named acting as secretary. It is almost needless to say that all the arrangements were unexceptional and perfectly carried out, the names of the ladies, who compose tlie committee being a sufficient guarantee for this. They are to be congratulated upon the distinct success of their efforts. Among those present were Mr and Mrs Bush. Mrs Sharp and Miss Sharp, Mr and Mrs Howorth, Mr and Mrs Massey, the Misses Thomson, Mr and Mrs Macleod, Mrs Christophers, Mr and Mrs Bicknell, Miss Guthrie, Mrs and Miss Stocker, Mrs and Miss Russell, the Misses Nurse, Mr and Mrs Story, Miss Roe, Mr and Mrs Donald Macdonald (Edendale), Mr and Mrs Dunlop, Miss Malcolmson, Mi and Mrs Brent, the Misses Tucker, Mi E. Russell, the Misses MacLachlan (Dipton), Mr and Mrs Henderson, the Misses Maedonald, Miss Wilkin, Mrs Robinson and Miss Robinson, Miss M'lvor, Miss Macgoun, Mr Macgoun, Miss Royse (Dunedin), Mrs Young, Miss Hankinson, Mr and Mrs C. Edmunds, Miss Dickinson, Miss Brodrick, Mr J. Brodrick, Miss Ayton, Mr and Mrs J. Carswell, Miss Carsweil, Miss Fielding, the Messrs Watson, Mr Burnes, Mr and Mrs A. Morris, Mr and Mrs Rigg, Miss Maggie Adamson, Miss Nichol, Mr P. Wright, Mr Honywood, Mr Paul, Mr and Mrs Callender, Miss Alison Dalgleish, Miss Wade, etc.

Mrs Tucker gave a most enjoyable tea on Thursday afternoon at her residence, Yarrow street. Both the dining room and drawing room were crowded, the hall also accommodating numbers of guests, yet everyone's wants were seen to, the Misses Tucker being untiring in their efforts in attending to their guests. The tea table in the dining room looked very pretty, bowls of ivy, gracefully arranged, taking the place of flowers ; the severe frosts having cut all flowers down. About 60 guests were present, among them being Mrs J. . T. Thomson, Mrs Macleod^ Mrs Bush, Mrs Edmunds*

Happy he I With such a mother! Faith in womankind i Beats with his blood, 3rd trust in all things I high \ Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay. j "What sweet girls those are of yours, ' Mrs Blair. How have you managed to keep them sc ' unspotted from the world?'" i A faint colour rose in the comely face, ! and a slight frown puckered the smooth ' forehead, as Mrs Blair answered, t " Thank you, dear, for saying so. People j often say nice things to me about my ! girls, and it always make me feel a little ashamed." "Ashamed? Proud, I should have thought." I " Proud of them, ashamed of myself. You , see I always set my heart on their being clever. lam not clever myself, and it was my one desire to have clever daughters : girls who would take prizes at school, mai triculate, win scholarships, shine in a unij versity career, and write I don't know j what mystic combinations of the alphabet I after their names."

" Ah, but -you have forgotten that long ago, I am sure?"

" I don't know about long ago. The disappointment was so bitter as the years of education went on to find they had no special talent, were not clever in any one direction. I could not help longing for those ' sweet girl graduates ' of my dreams, even though I shed tears at my own ingratitude as I saw the tenderness and sweetness of their lives unfold, and woke sometimes with o start of dread lest anything should deprive me of the lives that were only tender, sweet, and lovable, instead., of clever. Now you know."

" Yet I know many girls not one atom more clever than yours, I am sure, Mrs Blair, who have been made to continue their studies : who now, at 18 or 19, are toiling away to pass their matriculation. I f you were so set on having learned daughters, why. did you not do as the mothers of these girls have done?" "And rob youth of its joy, and saddle

life with a burden of distasteful tasks, to gratify my own selfish desires! No, I was not so stupid as that. Thank God, I saw in time that I was mistaken, and that! the garden — all ordered and planted, its limits set, its capacities defined — was mi higher hands than mine: I was only the gardener; and then I tried to make the very best of all that was given me. You 1 tell me I have succeeded — the friendship and confidence of my girls, the peace and! brightness of our lives together, more than console me now, for my old« dreams and their fruitless ending." . .

The low beams of the setting sum shone in at the open windows of the pretty room, the scent of the honeysuckle climbing round 1 the windows strove with the delicate odour of sweet peas aranged in countless slendeii glasses ; big pale blue bowls of white marguerites gleamed from a wide recess, and/ shone starlike from quaint Tapanese walljardinieres. The room was so simple— no unframed " studies " on ornamental easels; invited remark, no ostentatious music stand, informed the casual visitor that "here the violin was played," no French or German books left with careful carelessness in prominent places testified to the " culture " of the family. Some dainty needlework here, a gardening book Avith an unfinished list and a florist's catalogue there showed that this was a,room to live in, not to look at, and! the bright voices that echoed from the garden completed the pleasant sense of home, while the numbei of books and periodicals hinted pleasantly enough at minds actively interested in topics abroad, as well as' pursuits at home.

The atmosphere of peace and restfulness, only possible to a well-ordered house, presided over by refined and intelligent women, soothed ones nerves inexpressibly — yet I had first had it on the best possible authority that there were no clever women in the house !

The worship of the merely intellectual is always a sore point with me. The contrast of this sweet home, where the husband and father must surely % find in all its full intensity the restfulness which soothes even the mere visitor, with some, households where, intellect reigns supreme, and 'solaces itself as be&t it can in a constant scramble oi incompetence and irritation, struck me most forcibly, and set my thoughts off on the familiar track.

So much stress is laid in these days on purely intellectual gifts, and so much kudos is given -to mere educational accomplishments, not in one, but in all classes of the community, that one's heart yearns towards the commonplace girls whose mere qualities of heart and disposition are held so cheaply. All around us, in the houses of the rich aud the poor alike, the tendency to make much, of the s clever members of the family and to depreciate and undervalue the merely good and amiable increases every year. The reasons may be diverse — let us frankly consider a few of the commonest.

In some cases the course .of training and study is an affair of a future livelihood. The clever child is trained as carefully as a racehorse, stalled as rigorously as- a prize shorthorn, watched as anxiously as a new ■hrysanthenmm. The home may be bare and poor, but means will be forthcoming for this genius of the family to enter — with the kindly generous aid of the State— upon his educational or profession career. From his smart childhood, foredoomed to " swat," the clever one of the family scarcely has time to notice the flowers of self-sacrifice, the constant ungrudging immolation of father, mother, and brethren beneath the chariot wheels of his educational juggernaut. Everything gives way to the needs and the Convenience of the boy or girl whose cleverness is to reflect lustre on the whole family. To 'this end the father works, the mother toils on, weary, yet uncomplaining, the household eats the bread of unselfishness, and drinks the vintage of self-denial. 'Is it any wonder that a dumb sense of injustice, of wrong -and resentment fills the lives of the dull brothers and sisters who plod op unnoticed? Is it any wonder that the intellectual boy or girl, accustomed to receive sacrifices mutslyoffered, takes them as a right, grows \m selfish, egoistic, unlovable, self-centred? Another reason for giving this tremendous precedence to intellectual gifts and educational acquirements is the. keen wind of competition which blows through all the civilised centres of the world. In trade, as in art, science, and literature, edu- ' cation is the weapon which is alone looked upon as invincible, sought and appreciated accordingly. How can England maintain her industrial supremacy? Only by more, education of her artisans, only by deeper, fullei culture of her great army of middleclass workers. All this is true, no doubt, and yet it offers a poor excuse for the popular laudation of mental qualities over moral ones, the petting of the clever child to the neglect of the merely sweet and good. Intellect and culture did not avail to save the Greek or Roman Empires, or art to preserve the national honour of France. There must be moral as well as mental standards, and it is to women that the nation looks for these — to the women of whom Marion Crawford says: — "Noble women, who do not attempt to mend their fates, who live to the end the lives marked out for them, even though they may be partly marred by a mistake, or withered by misfortune." It is necessary for the wellboing of our comltry that there should be women — aye, many of them — who, like Enid, should be " sweet and sociable," rather than " advanced " and accomplished ; girls who should be quoted like Elaine, as being " lovable," womanly women, whom husbands and^ sons will describe in the sunshine of life as being : —

One in whom The springtime oi her childish years Hath never lost its sweet perfume, Though knowing well that life hath room For many blights and many tears; and mourn in death as, Just a womanly presence, An influence unexprest, But a rose sbe had worn, on my grave sod,

Were more than long life with the rest,

What an influence such women have, too — they are " the power behind the throua"-

of intellect, success, fame, nobility. Look at Madame Alphonse Daudet, wife of the great novelist : — " A superior woman and an admirable writer, she often, aided her husband in his work, yet always disclaimed this help with womanly grace." "' On a Japanese fan, there is* generally some scene in which we find important personages, bamboos, and delicate golden spangles. In his books, Alphonse designs the personages, and I, at the end, indicate a few reeds." Thus, in a few words, Madame obliterated herself and her work ! What should we dc without the commonplace girls, the womanly women? Brothers, why dt you not value more truly the sisters who are really the household fairies, and yet who are always pushed into the background by the clever and brilliant ones? You know quite well who mends jour football jersey, who " does up " your ties, who makes cocoanut ice for your "tuck box," and sails for your model yacht — it is that " dear, old stupid " who ds always bottom at exams., whose arithmetic is shaky, and her history hopeless.

■May is pretty, fellows " hang round her " at dances and football matches, till you are proud of being -her brother, though you •wouldn't confess it for worlds. But May never has " time to bother " with you ! Stewart is clever — she plays, sings, recites, aiid " talks like a book " ; she, t too, has no mmc to be " bothered with the boys " ; but Mary is such a good, old thing, one always ■knows where to find her — not far from mother, she is sure to be, and she will make time. B

And you, pretty girls and clever girls, (•whom do you go to with your troubles and .your tangles? Who is always ready to do your hair for special occasions, sew the ibraid on your dress, help you to run up "•a blouse, make up a spray of flowers; "'cEange the chiffon on 3'our theatre blouse? 4Why, some dear, old duffer who is nowhere in examinations, never gets higher than " third top " in her class, yet will blossom into a lovable woman, carrying sunishine ' and sweetness in her gentle steps.wherever she goes. Only a womanly •woman! Earth holds no higher praise — it as of womanly women be sure that the ranks of the angels are recruited. It is womanly /women who are content to be the tfeautii'ul, harmonious background of other lives. Their gentle self -obliteration makes a soft tmderchord to the household music — the exquisite blue background from which the children's happy faces gleam like Raphael's cherubs. It is well to remember ii> these flatter days of restless striving for outside work, the feverish desire for ,a "vocation" that in most cases a sufficiency of work really lies to our hand within the four walls of home ; that though it is not paid for by the day, or the piece, or counted fey the folio or the column, it is taken, account of by that great " Master of all good workmen, who in the after time, and in the sublime peace of His own presence shall ' put us to work anew.' "