gentlemen, after the great favour which you 'ave done me this day, I can 'ardly make so bold as to arsk anythink further at your 'ands; an' yet there's one little thing more as I'd willin'ly be indebted to you for, an' that's this: if there's any gentleman 'ere present as knows a friend, or maybe only an acquaintance, as is not connected with a Buildin' Serciety, if he'd only just mention the name of the Kosmos Building Serciety to that gentleman, and then come round an' let me know, I'd drop in an' make a call on 'im any time as 'ud be most convenient. An' if there's any gentleman 'ere as wants to buy 'is 'ouse -why, ivery man had ought to be 'is own lan'lord, gentlemen-I'm sure our terms to borrowers is as easy an' nice as could be wished; an' if iver we do 'ave to foreclose, gentlemen, well, then, all I can say is as it goes against my grain as nothink iver was like it. Gentlemen, whenever Self an' Mrs Twaddles looks up at this 'ere precious bit o' vellum, as will in futur 'ang just over our front parlour chimley-piece, where ivery person as comes in the room can see it, we shall always think what a blessed thing it was as your humble servant okkipied the position which 'e is now proud to fill.' After this touching display of post-prandial eloquence, Mr Twaddles sits down with a smile of modest satisfaction irradiating his homely features. Deafening applause follows the conclusion of his speech; and the entire company, waiters and all, combine their joint efforts to give Vocal utterance to the unanimous expression of opinion that he (Mr Twaddles) is a jolly good fellow, intimating at the same time that on that point they are prepared to defy contradiction. When the important business connected with Mr Twaddles has been disposed of, the other toasts follow in rapid succession, the last health to be drunk being that of the Solicitor to the Society. During the acclamations following the solicitor's health, a gentleman at the other end of the room jumps up and exclaims: 'He hed ought to hev bin in the army, gentlemen, he's sich a good un to charge.' This playfully satirical accusation calls forth roars of laughter, which completely drown the indignant protest of the irate man of law, that his charges are strictly mod'rate, and let 'em get the work done cheaper if they can.' After the healths have been finished, the mirth flows fast and furious; the only person who takes no further part in the merriment being Mr Stubbins, who, no doubt from a praiseworthy feeling of shyness, has long since disappeared from public notice, and 18 now slumbering peacefully below the table. At the end of one of the tables at which is seated the humble representative of the press, a small party is kept in a continually bubbling state of mirthfulness at the irresistible humour of a young man with a much turned-up nose and crossed eye, who appears to be the comic spirit of the party. One stout, shrewd-looking elderly man, in particular, keeps exploding into bursts of laughter out of all proportion to the most exaggerated appreciation of the jester's facetiousness; in fact, there seems to be some little occult joke going on, of which he alone is conscious. At last, after a more than usually hearty burst of merriment, the hidden source of humour makes its appearance. Nudging and winking at his right-hand neighbour, he confides to him in a loud whisper: There's our Bill a-carryin' on wi' 'is gimcracks an' 'is tomfoolery; an' 'ere's the reportin' chap a-sittin' close by, a-takin' of it all down, an' a-goin' to print it. O lawk-a-mussy on me!' and he rolls back in his chair and laughs till his white waistcoat heaves and quivers with emotion. As these manifestations of merriment begin to subside, the thriving young tradesman of quasi-clerical appearance gets up to oblige the company, and in melodious strains expresses his conviction that When the pigs begin to fly, I guess they'll be the funniest birds When he has finished, another gentleman of musical proclivities goes up to the piano. His performance, however, comes to an abrupt conclusion, if, indeed, it can be said to have had a beginning. Music, which has charms to soothe the savage breast, exercises such an unwonted sedative influence in this gentleman's bosom, that after fumbling helplessly about for a few moments, he manifests an inclination to fall asleep with his head on the keyboard. It now becomes plainly evident that it is high time for the company to break up; and after the usual difficulty with regard to hats, umbrellas, and overcoats, the Kosmos Building Society's symposium came to a close. All Rights Reserved. in domestic service, yet they prefer to be hangersTHE DOMESTIC-SERVANT DIFFICULTY. on at home-stop-at-home girls'-rather than To get good female domestic servants is noto- go out and earn their living. A remedy for riously one of the difficulties of modern family this state of things ought to be found. With life. Most ladies who are in housekeeping have multitudes of healthy girls, we have good raw at some time experienced great inconvenience material in abundance; surely we ought to be through having incompetent or disagreeable able to find the skill and machinery necessary servants. We Britons are a home-loving people. to turn out as finished, that very valuable article, In his home, the harassed man of business expects to find peace, rest, and relief from the worries of his daily toil. But frequently the home machinery, instead of running smoothly, is thrown out of gear by some mishap with the servants. Can anything be done to improve our family domestics, or must we for ever be content with merely uttering our complaints over a chronic evil, for which the civilisation of the nineteenth century is unable to provide a remedy? For all practical purposes, we may dismiss from our minds two classes of mistresses and servants. The lady who keeps many servants, pays them high wages, allows them much liberty, and does not overwork them, is not likely to have great difficulty in procuring and retaining a good staff of household servants. On the other hand, the menials who are ill-treated, underpaid, overworked, and allowed but little time for leisure or 'outings,' will be sure to rebel against this tyranny, and escape from it as soon as they can. The overwhelming majority with whom we have to deal lie between those extremes. Where the work is moderate and the wages are tolerably good, many situations 'go a-begging.' The demand for good servants is greater than the supply. And yet, if we may be allowed to use the illustration, we have plenty of girls-the stuff out of which good servants are manufactured. There are thousands of English, Irish, and Scotch girls, not to mention others, who are not employed in factories or in any public places of business, but who remain at home doing nothing. And the vexatious anomaly is, that although it would be better for themselves, for their parents, and for the general public if these young women were a good domestic servant. Good, honest, clever, respectable female servants are almost invaluable persons in a family; and there are many such; but at present we have not a sufficient number of them, and a considerable portion of those we have are acknowledged to be of an inferior order. The explanation of, and the remedies suggested for, this modern household difficulty, which from time to time appear in the public papers, are amusingly contradictory. One mistress blames 'over-education' for spoiling servants; while another considers that girls are insufferably stupid and ignorant. One writer suggests that servants think more of a comfortable home than of anything else; another says they are petted and pampered too much. Some urge a rigorous household discipline; while others complain of irritating restrictions. One pleads for a lady being more familiar with her servants; another says that a mistress ought to keep her place' -whatever that may mean. Some writers tell us that servants as a class are overworked; others assure us that many of them have so little to do that they waste their time in reading novels, in gossiping, and in looking out of the windows. These Babel tongues only show in what a chaotic state many people's minds are on this subject. We may notice, however, that all these suggestions indicate something like unanimity on two points-namely, that the relationship between mistresses and servants is not satisfactory; and that an improvement, if not a cure, is possible for the evil complained of. It would lift a load of care from many hearts, and bring sunshine to many homes where there is now shadow, if a thoroughly good understanding were established between the queen of the household and her domestics, whose conduct to a great extent makes or mars the happiness of family life. To attain this object is worth an effort; and the remedies which have occurred to us are, that there must be more forbearance shown to each other by the classes concerned, and that by some means or other domestic servants must be better taught and trained for their work. In dealing with the first point we are treading on somewhat delicate ground; still, it may not be amiss to point out a few faults on both sides which might easily be corrected. And here we gladly acknowledge that there are vast numbers of good mistresses and servants to whom the following remarks do not, and are not intended to, apply. There are, however, ladies who make a great deal of unnecessary work for their servants by thoughtless indolence. They will insist on their maids trotting up and down stairs to do the merest trifles. The coal-scuttle is beside their chair, but they will not touch the handle of the shovel to put a few coals on the fire. They will not shut a door, or draw up a window-blind, or light a lamp; but, in the language of the song, they 'ring the bell for Sarah. Poor Sarah may be so hard worked that she does not know which way to turn; but that does not matter-she must leave more important duties to answer the bell. There is a great difference between French and English ladies in this respect. As a rule, French ladies do not give their domestics unnecessary trouble; besides, they pay them well and treat them kindly. Again, some mistresses appear to live in a region of ice, their ideas of caste not allowing them to speak to their servants except to give orders. As a natural consequence, the servant does not look up to such a mistress as a friend, or study her interests, but thinks only of the amount of wages she will get. A great many ladies-who appear to forget that the world keeps jogging on-constantly complain that servants are more difficult to manage, and that they will not do now as they did twenty or thirty years ago. But is it not unreasonable to expect that they should? All classes of the community now live in a different style from what they did in the past generation. If desirable, it is not possible to bring back former times, and wise people leave off crying for the moon. Formerly, a servant-girl had to dress in a certain manner, have no 'followers,' receive few friends, have no leisure hours or nights out, except to attend a place of worship, and certainly dared not presume to have her letters addressed with the prefix 'Miss.' For better or for worse, mistresses must recognise the fact that the times are changed. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that modern servants have grave faults. Many are disobedient, not to say insolent. They cannot brook having their faults pointed out. They are extravagant and reckless with the property of their employers. The waste in some households is shameful. Some servants prefer to dress in tawdry finery, rather than in clothes suitable for their work and becoming their station. They love gadding about in the streets better than doing their duty in the family at home. Not unfrequently, servants are wretchedly incompetent. They are foolish, often giving notice' for the most trivial reasons. They treat 'Missis'—who is generally their best friend-as if she were their natural enemy. Now, it is evident that so long as those feelings of antagonism exist between the head of the household and her domestics, family life cannot be pleasant. A spirit of mutual forbearance would do much towards improving the relationship of mistresses and servants; it would act like oil poured on the wheels and cogs of some valuable but screeching machinery. That girls who are intended for domestic service should be better trained to their work, has not received, we think, the attention it deserves. We have many institutions whose object is to benefit females; but we have no good system for training domestic servants. We have Girls' Friendly Societies, Servants' Benevolent Institutions, Homes of Hope, Refuges, Female Protection Societies, and so forth; but our great want is some extended organisation by which young girls could be educated in the duties of the household. Our land abounds with various and noble charities; but we should not forget that prevention is better than cure,' and that the best form of charity is that which helps people to help themselves. The girls brought up in Workhouses, in Orphanages, in Reformatories, and similar places, often make poor servants. Those ladies who, through benevolence, have taken such girls into their service have frequently complained in the public papers of their ignorance and general incompetence. This is the more disappointing, from the fact that these charitable institutions are supported by money obtained from the public. A little reflection, however, will convince mistresses that they expect too much when they look for a good supply of competent domestic servants from such places. This is not exactly their work. The objects of these institutions are to teach the children good morals, to feed and clothe them, and to give them a start in general education. In most cases they leave before much knowledge of household duties can be acquired. This is the weak point in our domestic economy. Untaught girls go out to their first situations, and have to scramble into a knowledge of their work as best they can. Clever servants are not made by accident. Cooking is an art to be learned, as much so as playing the piano. And judging from the number of advertisements to be seen constantly in the papers for 'plain cooks,' there are many young women who have not learned the elementary principles of this art. The same may be said respecting the other duties required of servants. Nursing children or invalids, dusting, cleaning, sewing, arranging the toilets of ladies, waiting at dinner, &c.all these duties require skill. It is a fact that our best servants come from the families of small farmers, tradesmen, and well-to-do mechanics. And they are superior because they have had a better home-training than those brought up in the haunts of poverty and vice. What we advocate, then, is that in some way our servants shall be thoroughly instructed to do all kinds of household work. A central Journal Domestic Servants' Training Home in London, with branches in the provinces, is the organisation which appears to us most likely to accomplish the end in view. It must, of course, at first be a work of charity, taken up by ladies of position throughout the land. The methods of teaching would probably be by holding classes and giving lectures, similar to the methods now adopted by our different Schools of Cookery. In some cases, lessons could be given at home. Such an institution would work in harmony with all our dayschools, supplementing their teaching, and thus making the education of females more complete. Nor need its operations be confined to any particular class; for while its main object would be to train the poorer classes of girls to become good servants, and therefore good wives for those who afterwards would want them, at the same time it might give instruction in those higher branches of knowledge so essential to lady-helps, matrons, housekeepers, and even mistresses. One very important part of the work of such an Institution would be the establishment of night classes and lectures for the convenience of females who are fully employed during the day. Girls at home, in factories, dressmakers, milliners, and others, would thus have an opportunity of acquiring that knowledge of household work which so many of them lack. As already intimated, the direct results of this scheme would be to make good domestic servants and good wives; but the indirect results would be to aid the temperance reformation and to promote thrift. It is generally acknowledged that one reason why so many working-men prefer the publichouse to their own homes is because their wives do not possess the household virtues of cleanliness, neatness, and order. They have not the knack of making home attractive. Hence the husband leaves a comfortless house to seek comfort elsewhere. The question of course will be asked, Is such a national scheme practicable? We will suggest an answer to this question by asking another. In this age, what undertaking is there which is not practicable? But supposing we allow, for the sake of argument, that there are insuperable difficulties in the way of establishing a National Training Home for Domestic Servants, we see no obstacle to prevent something of the kind being attempted on a smaller scale. In any locality, if a few ladies of position formed themselves into a Committee, and energetically took up the subject, they would be sure to have considerable success. Young women, for the sake of advantages to themselves, would be induced to attend the classes and lectures of such societies, and the working expenses need not be heavy. The Metropolitan Association for Befriending Young Servants, 14 Grosvenor Road, Westminster, is something like what we are advocating. That Institution is doing an excellent work among the friendless, ignorant, intractable, young girls of London. Its funds deserve to be more liberally supported, so that its beneficent operations might be extended all over the country. In nearly every town in the kingdom there are hundreds or thousands of girls growing up who are ignorant of, and incompetent to perform the duties of an ordinary household. We should like to see those now helpless girls taught and trained to be good domestic servants. Plenty of situations with good wages are awaiting them. They need not emigrate to find them. On the other hand, by making good servants, we should be lessening a social evil, and removing that irritating friction which is constantly grinding away the peace of our family life. VALENTINE STRANG E. A STORY OF THE PRIMROSE WAY. CHAPTER XX.-'VALENTINE STRANGE, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU.' CONSTANCE was staying with Mr Jolly's maiden sister, who lived in a small house at a large rental in Chesterfield Street, Mayfair; and thither Reginald drove before dinner that evening, resolved on what should seem a call of duty on the maiden aunt. To his profound amazement, he found Strange there, settled apparently as a friend of the household. He glared at him with unveiled surprise, and Val himself looked almost as guilty as he felt. 'Why; what,' cried the startled new-comer, 'in the name of all the wonders, brings you here? ' 'Reginald!" said the maiden aunt, with some severity. · He 'Don't be alarmed, my dear,' said Reginald in response. Strange and I are old friends." kissed the withered cheek dutifully, as he had always done, and nodded at Constance. He was himself again. 'How is papa?' inquired Constance. 'Drowned, drowned, drowned, as the Queen in Hamlet says,' returned the flippant young man; and proceeded to relate the little episode of the morning. His eyes wandered from Strange to Constance, and from Constance to Strange, and he watched and speculated as he chattered. The mere insertion of his eyeglass seemed to lend him a certain sublime stoniness of visage. He watched everything in seeming to watch nothing; and being a born diplomatist, he abstracted himself gradually from Strange and Constance, and gave himself wholly over to the amusement of the old lady. But, for whatever reason, the two made no sign, and seemed, indeed, even a little bored with each other, and aweary of the world. Reginald, confident in the freedom he could take, determined to sit out the term of Val's visit, and having accomplished that feat, and driven Strange into rising, he also arose. 'We'll go together,' he said quietly. Val, being unable to find a reason for sitting down again, abused himself inwardly for not having exercised another minute's patience; not guessing that in that cause, Reginald would have willingly sat there for a week. Unimpressible, and even stupid as he contrived to look behind his glass, the little man noted everything. In Strange's farewell to Constance there was something of an appeal, a touch so fine, that the best of actors would have been put to it to copy the manner of it. Constance's manner was chilly; but her bosom gave one long heave, and she paled and trembled ever so little as she said good-bye and gave him her hand. These signs were so delicate in themselves, that I have in expressing them a sort of feeling that I exaggerate them; but the keen though vacuous-looking eye behind the eyeglass took in all, and the youth made his own conclusions. 'Valentine Strange,' he said, pausing in the street a few seconds later, and tapping his friend lightly on the breast, 'I want to speak to you.' Val looked at him quietly. 'What is it?' 'Come with me to your own rooms,' said Reginald. 'We can be quiet there.' Val, with a little sinking at the heart, foreboding what was coming, nodded in assent; and having summoned a hansom, they were trundled along with scarcely a word between them. 'Now,' said Strange, turning upon him when his rooms were reached, 'what is it?' The air was dusky, but there was a fire aglow upon the hearth by which the two could read each other's faces. 'Got any baccy?' asked the younger.-"Thank you.' He chose a pipe from the rack above the mantel-piece, and having filled and lit it, sat down gravely and smoked, with both hands stretched out to the red gleam of the fire. 'What is it?' Strange asked again, this time with some impatience. 'You remember kicking Davis in the Fives Court?' asked Reginald with apparent irrele vance. In answer to this movement, the little man arose and lit the gas before he spoke another word. Strange came uneasily back into his former posture. 'Confound your mystery!' he cried. What have you to say?' 'I have something to say,' returned the other, that I don't want to say. Something I tremendously dislike to say. Something I must say, unless you'll say it for me.'-Strange's only answer was to cast his hands resignedly abroad. Reginald stood upon the hearthrug before him, and had the advantage, unusual with him, of looking at Strange from a superior height. It is remarkable how that tells in a discussionwith some people.-'Now, will you tell me, Valyou, an honourable man-will you tell me on your word of honour that you have no guess of what I mean?' 'You little lunatic,' said Strange, with an affectation of good-humoured raillery, 'how should I tell?' 'Val,' said the little man feelingly, 'you don't know how much I know.'-At that, Strange started and turned pale. Was it possible that Constance, dreading herself, had besought her brother's interference.-'Suppose,' the little man continued, that I had met your friend GilbertEast?' He threw just a trifle of malice into the pause, for he was angry with Strange for that deception. Strange moved again, and blushed. 'Remember the fight that came after it?' This was turning the attack altogether, and 'Perfectly,' said Val, trying to laugh, and not though the shaft hit him smartly, he could bear succeeding very brilliantly. 'Yes,' said Strange, breathing tightly, and not knowing what to make of this beginning. What about it?' 'Remember what it was all about?' 'Certainly. What of it?' 'You did me a royal good turn that day,' said Reginald. 'It's twelve years ago, ain't it? We've been close chums ever since that time, haven't we, Val? And that was the beginning of it. Very well. You've always been stronger and richer and luckier and handsomer than me, haven't you? Very well, again.' 'You have not been drinking, have you?' asked Strange. Half a pint of claret at luncheon,' said the little man, with his eyes on the red glow of the fire. We've been chums for twelve years. You began by licking an enemy of mine, and you've gone on with all manner of kindnesses ever since. And now I'm going to show my gratitude. You're not the Valentine Strange you used to be. There's something on your mind. Will you tell me what it is, Val, or shall I tell you?'-Strange sat in silence.-'Remember, Val,' said his companion, lifting his gaze from the fire and looking full in Val's eyes across the semidarkness of the place, this is the first chance of doing you a turn, I've had. I give you notice that I'm going to take it-mercilessly.' "That half-pint,' said Val, 'was longer or stronger than common. Have a nap.' 'Am I to tell you what it is?' asked Reginald, with no alteration in his tone, and with his eyes still fixed on his companion; 'or will you tell me?' 'Oh!' cried Val, in a tone of easy impatience and derision, let us have it. Let me get a light. And now, go ahead. I'm waiting.' He threw both legs over the arm of his chair, and slipped back, so that his face fell into darkness. it. If the letter to Gilbert were all the mystery, he thought he could make his peace. Suppose,' Reginald went on, that I had put two and two together, with a result confirmed again this afternoon? Val, for pity's sake, don't make me fool about in this way any longer. Tell me you understand me.' 'Well,' said Val suddenly, with a desperate voice and a face of pallor, I understand you. Go on.' 'Thank you,' said the accuser, holding out his hand. Strange took it and pressed it hard, though he hung his head. "That's like you, Val. That's honest. I'm very sorry, very sorry, sorrier than I can say. But you're too late, Val. And you're a man of honour, and I'm a man of honour. And he's a friend of yours too, Val. Now, it's all over, isn't it?' Rags, old man,' groaned Val, still holding his hand, and speaking with his head still bent, she doesn't care for him!—not a straw!' The little man gripped Val's hand harder as he responded: We're both men of honour, and we're friends, Val-friends. We can't have her talked about. The other man's in his right. She took him with her eyes open, and you came too late. You came in last. Well, you'll find another race that'll be better worth winning in.' -There was no answer to this, except a groan and a harder grip of the hand.-Faithful are the wounds of a friend,' said Reginald; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. from it. That's the best thing you can do. a bolt-at once.' Run away Make 'Yes,' said Val, stricken to the heart, 'I'll go.— But,' he added, lifting his head and showing a face so changed, that his companion was amazed and half frightened by it, it will be as hard |