FIVE O’CLOCK TEA CHAT.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 47, 22 November 1890, Page 15

FIVE O’CLOCK TEA CHAT.

LADY'S : ‘ I was at a wedding a day or two ago, Jfr and it struck me that the marriage service of MS the Church of England requires revision. ’ Vera : ‘ The same idea has frequently occur red to me. I heard one clergyman omit a good deal, and he earned my sincere thanks, for the church was crowded with a very mixed _ ,congregation.’ . Gladys : ‘ I heard a gentleman actually suggesting that the word “obey” in the wife's promises should be changed to “ submit.” ’ Dolly : ‘ On what ground ?’ Gladys : ‘ I gathered that he thought it a relic of the barbarous agfes, when women were supposed to have no wills and no opinions of their own. If the husband said, “ You must not do that,” the wife simply obeyed. Nowadays she breaks her marriage vow frequently, justifying herself on the ground that she knows quite as well—or better—than her husband what she should or should not do.’

Stella : ‘ That objection to the word “obey ” comes under the present feminine revolt against all the old restrictions which formerly did hedge a woman in.’ Gladys : ‘ There is no doubt that in course of time, as the spirit of it is dead, the letter of wifely obedience will be abolished. And some men are not fit to command their wives. ’ Vera : ‘ Once let us get on the dangerous topic of Woman's Rights, illustrated on this occasion by your objection to their obeying their lawful lords and masters, we shall bicker on till all our cake and tea, and especially sugar, are exhausted.’ Gladys: ‘ I accept your hint, and beg to inquire if you have read “ Little Lord Fauntleroy?” ’ Vera : ‘ I have not, but I believe most people like it.’ Glady’s : ‘ I am sorry to tell you that Mrs Hodgson Burnett’s young son, Cedric, the original character, is a victim to that most insidious and fatal of maladies, consumption. We have all heard how Mrs Burnett modelled her portrait of the loveable little lord upon the character and appearance of her son, whose fond pet-name for his mother, “ Dearest,” has become familiar to the thousands who have laughed and cried over one of the most charming literary works of our generation. It will be the . heartfelt hope of the countless admirers of Mrs Burnett's beautiful story, that the malady which threatens her child’s life may be arrested, and that he may yet be spared to her for many years. Dolly : ‘ Even in the midst of her success what a thorn has pierced her ! But these clever, original children seldom live to grow up. I think the mind eats away the hotly !’ Stella : ‘ I was very much pleased the other day to come across a charming novelty in ladies’ visiting cards; they are usually so hopelessly monotonous. ’ Dolly : ‘ Please tell us what it was ?’ Stella : ‘ A bird or flower in colour or neutral tint is to be placed across the left-hand corner somewhat after the fashion of a name-card for dinners. Every packet of cards might contain a variety of devices, or be all alike, according to the owner’s taste, or one special flower arranged in different ways ; and the cards thus ornamented could, of course, be submitted for selection before having the name and address engraved on them. This notion, which will doubtless soon be put into practical shape, is possibly the thin end of a wedge ofextravagance,asthe adornment of cards might easily be carried so far as to make them veritable little works of art. Another novel suggestion concerning these pasteboard tokens is that they should be dated by the visitor, a plan which would greatly assist the receiver in keeping the date of the call and arranging for its return at a suitable time. Unless visiting lists or diaries are very carefully kept, nothing is more liable to be forgotten than the, exact date of visits which we have not been at home to receive, and offence is frequently thus unintentionally given. Should this plan become general, card-cases, neatly'fitted with a small indelible pencil and tiny calendar, will be much in. request. ’ Gladys : * I think visiting cards are a regular infliction. First, one has to be sure one’s case is properly stocked before setting off to make calls ; next, one has to be quite sure that one is leaving exactly the right number, and one racks one’s brain to remember whether Mrs So-and-So has a daughter out or not.’ Stella : ‘ Still it is a necessary evil.’ Gladys : ‘ And then look at the piles of cards one accumulates, and the trouble of sorting and destroying them.’ Dolly: ‘We used to save ours, cut them, draw a fern or flower in black ink over the name, write a text on them, and use them, tied with narrow ribbon, for the Hospital Flower Mission. ’

Gladys: ‘ I would suggest abolishing them altogether, and substituting a ruled book and pencil on the hall-table, wherein each visitor could inscribe her name.’ Vera : ‘ I wonder what the Queen would have thought had she known of a little freak indulged in by one of the young Princesses at Ascot—l won’t mention her name, lest it should bring down vials of Royal wrath upon her innocent little head ; but it is a fact that youthful Royalty, incognita, and accompanied by a lady, indulged in the luxury of a ride on a steam roundabout on the Friday of the race week. The proprietor did not know his customers, fortunately, or we might have a repetition of the performing bears incident,’ Dolly : ‘ You mean when the Queen, driving home after a christening, stopped to watch some performing bears ? Well it was human of her.’ Stella : ‘ There was such a curious gown worn the other evening that I am sure you will all be interested in a description of it. The Duchess of Leinster appeared at a large reception robed in a wonderful dress, “ trimmed,” says a London journal, “ entirely with jewelled serpents, which lay coiled about in glittering folds 01 various parts of the bodice, and on each shoulder the same reptiles stood erect from the fabric, as if ready to dart upon anyone who should venture to approach the wearer. Nothing could i«ossibly have been more striking than the highly original snake trimming : but there is always something weird and uncanny about the appearance of serpents ; ami even the fact of their being composed of nothing more lifelike than precious stones could only modify, and not remove, the grimness of the general effect. If, however, serpentine ornaments are really coming into fashion, one might suggest a Medusa head-dress as an effective and certainly a striking novelty in coifflire. As Lilian A avasour used to say in Xeu- Men and Old Acres, such an arrangement could hardly fail to prove “ a caution to snakes !” ’