CULLED BRIC-A-BRAC.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 43, 24 October 1891, Page 518

CULLED BRIC-A-BRAC.

A CURIOUS and amusing incident happened some time ago of which I have only recently heard, but which is too funny to miss. It being known that a certain Bishop was about to circulate a series of questions in his diocese, with a view to obtain an accurate statement of the work done by his clergy, a parody was printed before the Bishop’s genuine letter, and some outrageously absurd questions were asked, and seriously answered by many of the incumbents. Here are one or two specimens :— How much have you spent during the last year in the purchase of sermons? To which one man apologetically admitted that he had erred to the extent of three shillings ! Have you ever applied for prejerment or expressed a desire to be a residentiary Canon ? To which several pleaded guilty, and hoped they might be forgiven. What form of penance do you adopt when you oversleep yourself or commit serious indiscretions in diet ? To which one ascetic, perhaps a survivor of the Flagellants, said that he had got a brother priest to scourge him severely on two separate occasions. How many embroidered slippers and smoking caps have you received this year? Six or seven clergymen, all bachelors, allowed that they were honoured with marked attentions in this way. It is dillicult to know which to admire more in the victims of this clerical hoax, their simplicity or their honesty.

FEW women know the value of cold water as a pick me-up, when applied to certain parts of the body. If a woman has been busy shopping all day, or even if she has only been occupied in pleasuring, she sometimes arrives home utterly fagged and worn out, feeling, perhaps, that she has friends coming to dinner, and that she is so hot and flustered that she knows she will look her worst when she enters her drawing-room a few minutes later. And yet she has not time to lie down and get cool as she would wish.

Let her try bathing her wrists with cold water to lower the temperature of her body. She will find it work like a marvel, bracing up the nerves at the same time as it reduces the distressing heat. Then a plentiful use of warm water for her face will speedily transform the fatigued woman into a comparatively fresh and happy hostess. Also it is a fact little known that, in case of faintness, cold water applied behind the ears has far greater powers of restoring the circulation than bathing the forehead or the hands. It was a little Frenchwoman who told me this, and I have proved the wisdom of her advice over and over again since then, and been thankful to her both for myself and for others.

IN the published account of the first Mahommedan marriage ever celebrated in England, I was very much struck with the beauty of the wording of the vows made by the bride and bridegroom, and I wish they could be substituted for those used in our solemnisation of matrimony. In the Mahommedan contract the words repeated by the bride ran thus : ‘ I stand here in the presence of God, and all who are assembled, to unite my heart to your heart, and my destiny to your destiny, and to be called by your name. Thy sorrow shall be my sorrow, thy happiness shall be my happiness.’ It seems to me that the above is much more beautiful and solemn, as well as more poetical, than our ‘ with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow ’ ; for, in the Mahommedan form, the bridegroom uses the same words as the bride, omitting, of course, the words ‘ to be called by thy name.’ THE loneliest man in Europe is Herr Peter Lechner, who is connected with the Weather-Bureau service, and is stationed on the top of the Sehonnblick Mountains, in the Austrian Alps. There he lives month in and month out, engaged in noting the meteorological changes in the highest station in Europe. It is the custom of the villagers on Christmas Day to cut their way through the snow-clad valley and up the mountain, carrying presents to the lonely observer. This is the only time throughout the year that Peter Lechner sees a human face. THE following quotation shows how little is really known of the colonies in England, and how curious are the views held even by educated people about our manners and customs :— ‘ I have observed a very sensible letter from a “Colonist,” addressed to an evening paper. It touches upon that apparently unanswerable problem—how to prevent the Old Country from being practically overrun by women. One solution is emigration, and among the lower classes this project has been favourably received. The societies for transferring a portion of the female population of Europe to the colonies, have undoubtedly done much, but they are rarely patronised by women of education, or refinement, and yet, if we are to believe a “ Colonist,” there are comfortable homes and happy lives awaiting the right kind of women out in the far West and South. Hundreds (of men in the colonies) never do marry because the average colonial girl is entirely unsuited ; not having seen much she knows little. What a pity this should be so when there are hundreds of nice, sensible, English girls, and pretty girls too, who never marry because there are not enough men for all of them, and those who would marry can’t afford it. Our friend concludes: “If you could devise some scheme whereby the better class of those who emigrate could meet with suitable English wives, you would be helping to make colonial posterity what it ought to be—British to the backbone. No mothers in the wide world would be equal to English mothers, no home like an English home.” Fine and sensible words these, and worthy of the consideration of many of my sisters.’