FIVE O'CLOCK TEA CHAT.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 44, 1 November 1890, Page 15

FIVE O'CLOCK TEA CHAT.

EKA : 1 1 notice with pleasure that a lady writer, in speaking recently about children, ’ says that a love of beautiful things anil a love °f treasures should l>e instilled in early youth. Children may just as well be led to admire ’ SwSST "'hat is excellent and of good workmanship 1 as not, and many children nowadays have wonderful taste as to colour.’ /yS?-? Dolly : ‘That is very true. An impudent "" little nephew of mine came up to me the other morning as I was fastening an exquisite bouquet of violets into my belt. “ You really can’t wear those,” he said, “your dress is not the right blue. Let me get you some forget-nie-nots.” Vera : * The lady from whose remarks I was quoting when Dolly violently interrupted me, says, “ I consider it an easy matter, without in the least boring them, or, worse, making them ‘ pedantic little prigs ’ —to tell children a little about old china, showing them the different marks and styles, or metal-work, explaining the difference between hand and machine work. It is so much the fashion to treat children as if they were half imbecile, and that the outcome of our mighty brains must be very carefully veiled lest its effulgence should be too dazzling ! Whereas I fancy we should sometimes be more astonished than Mattered could we hear the private remarks of the recipients of our condescension. ” ’ Gladys: ‘All the same, Vera, children in the colonies are made too much of. A little judicious snubbing now and again would do them good. ’ Stella: ‘ Did you notice in an English Society journal that a long correspondence was being carried on, the subject being the important question : “Do children bring happiness ?” ’ Gladys : ‘ Yes, I saw it, and thought of writing to the Editor of the New Zealand Graphic to suggest inviting letters on the subject. You have no idea what a number of reflecting, reading, and writing women there are who could give us capital suggestions if they would only take the trouble to put pen to paper.’ Dolly : ‘ I hope they will, then ; I think it would be very interesting. ’ Gladys : ‘ Do you know why this country is called the Land of the Moa ?’ Dolly : ‘ No, but I should have thought its proper title now was “ The Land of the No Moa. ” ’ Gladys : ‘ It is so called because, though the inhabitants thereof have much—climate,soil, land, dwellings, good pay, etc.—they, as evidenced, especially now, are always crying “ More, more.” ’ Vera : ‘ Let us turn to something sensible. Do you know that the latest suggestion for women in the way of employment is that of tuning pianos ?’ Stella : ‘ Well, I really think there is something in that. It is an easy occupation, involves no thrusting of a lady into a man’s position in a remarkable manner, for comparatively little notice is ever taken of a piano-tuner, and as a rule it is the mistress of the house who sees and pays him, so that to a modest girl there would be nothing disagreeable in this work.’ Dolly -. ‘ And the expense of learning, and the tools ?’ Vera: ‘That would come to very little. Four lessons from a good teacher would be all that was necessary to anyone competent to undertake piano-tuning at all, and the instruments for tuning would only cost about five shillings. This would not be an expensive education to give a girl,°and all girls ought to be prepared with some means of earning their living. ’ Gladys : ‘ I quite agree with you. No parents have a right to die until they have either left their children enough to live upon comfortably, or endowed them with the practical knowledge of some trade or profession by which they can support themselves.’ Stella : ‘ I wish someone would give a Pastoral Play in their grounds, and invite me to witness if. The Countess of Brownlow gave one at her country house. “As You Like It” was the piece chosen, beginning at Act 11., with a chorus of huntsmen. The effect amongst the trees was excellent. ’ Vera : ‘ Patience, Stella; everything comes to him who can afford to wait.’ Gladys : ‘ I am glad to see that a memorial has at length been raised to the memory of the Prince Imperial of France. It is placed in the little Catholic Church of St. Mary, Chislehurst, and is erected on the spot where the remains of the Prince rested for so long before their removal to the Mausoleum at Farnborough,’ Dolly : ‘ What is it like ?’ Gladys : ‘ The memorial consists of a deeply moulded canopied wall-tomb of mediaeval type, designed in fifteenth century Gothic, to harmonise with the church in which it is placed. Upon the tomb-slab rests a recumbent figure of the Prince sculptured life-size in white alabaster, with the hands together as in holy supplication. He is attired in the uniform of the Royal Artillery worn in Iris fatal conipaign in Zululand, and is wrapped in his military cloak, the broad folds of which droop over the edge of the slab, and break agreeably its otherwise too rigid lines. Below the tombslab on a marble panel are engraved the words :—“ To the pious, noble, and chivalrous Louis Napoleon, Prince Imperial of France, who fell in England’s cause on June Ist, 1879. The monument is erected by his faithful servant and friend, the Right Rev. Mgr. Goddard, of this parish.” ’ Stella : ‘ I wish I lived in Kaffir-land. A lady was reading to me some extracts from a letter written by an aunt of hers residing at Pietermaritzburg. She has only Kaffir boys and men to do all the work, ami she says the seven they employ get on capitally in the house, look after the horses, and garden, all under supervision, of course. She much prefers them to the English servant girls she took out from home, and who soon married and left her. These blacks require so little to eat, principally rice, if 1 remember right, and ask mast moderate wages. ’

Dolly : ‘Talking of coloured jieople reminds me that as I was crossing the street on my way to five o’clock tea 1 met a nice-looking. Maori woman clothed in the deepest and most fashionable widow’s weeds. She even wore a little dainty white band against her black hair, which, but for that, would have been undistinguishable from the raven locks ot the wearer. Everyone turned to look at her, and I suppose many said to themselves, as I did, “ That's the iiist Maori widow I have seen !” ’