THE LADIES' WORLD

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2397, 12 January 1909, Page 7

THE LADIES' WORLD

ON tIEING ANNOYED.

Every . thoroughly-bealthy-minded man and woman lias an appreciation of personal and general beauty—in proportion perhaps .to tlieiiwitality. This being so, it is obviously everyone’s duty to wipe out ugliness and produce beauty around them by every means in their power. One of the .most- frequent causos of •ugliness, of a wrinkled skin no less than a dry and dusty mind, is irritability. It seems such a small thing to be annoyed because one misses the but it certainly makes one look .unpleasing, and it even more certainly makes one feel unpleasing, and the greatest certainty of all is that it neither brings the last tram back nor hurries the nest one. Annoyance ,is .such a pathetically feeble and ineffectual emotion, and yet it is the most wearing perhaps of <all. Tlow striking it is to notice the small lasting scar that sorrow or trouble seems to he able to inflict on people either physically or mentally. Annoyance, on the other hand, which flourishes unnoticed, by virtue of its apparent insignificance, has power to spread present discomfort und ugliness, and leave behind a scar on at least* one mind. Then, as with time the scars accumulate, they begin to be reflected by a worn and harassed expression on the face. Wo women ought for one thing to take a vow at the beginning of the summer that neither wind nor dust should have power to annoy us. We might borrow a little Christian science, and say, not quite that we liked our hats wrenched and dust .rubbed into our veils and eyes and skin, but- tbat we did not condescend to be annoyed with it, because we were quite sure that our peace of mind was of'infinitely greater importance to us than the wind. If only we could do this I am sure that at the end of the summer we should look and feel fresher and more pleasant for the effort. After all, if a thing is had it is bad to be angry or sad about; if is good we can be glad; hut in all the world there is nothing over which it is worth while to he annoyed.

SCHOOL FOR MAORI GIRLS. The scheme for establishing a school for Maori girls at Ohoka has gradually taken more definite form, and the ‘'‘New Zealand Church News” is able to announce that it is the intention to start the school in February. The sum of" £2OO was asked for to furnish the school, and for that purpose to date in cash £199 11s 2d has been received, besides offerings in kind. It is proposed to maintain the school partly by fees, and partly by free scholarships. Of the latter, two are promised through Mrs Julius, one by Miss Levin, of Wellington, and one ■anonymous. Contributions from parishes and individuals, it is anticipated, for some of the contributions already given have the promise of becoming annual, will provide two or three more. The promoters therefore . consider they are justified in starting with seven or eight scholars, and hope thev may this year reach ten. The salary of the principal is practically for the first year.

DO IT NOW. “(fear me, I must write and thank lifwsie for that lovely traycloth. Whatever will she think of me ? . I thought she would, have dropped in. The children being homo makes life such a rush, but I really must send her a line to-night. That cloth means a lot of her time; and she is so busy to-o ! As soon as the children are in bed I will write and thank her.” “She must have got it! I don t like to ask; it looks as if I wanted thanks: I thought she would have loved something I had made', especially for her; rand I am sure she is pleased, hut —almost a fortnight. Perhaps the lift-boy took it ~to the wrong flat. What shall I -do? If I ask, she’ll feel so ashamed; and yet it may have gone astray. Oh, dear me! Why do not people acknowledge the' receipt of things?” “Ten davsy and not a word about the book. "Surely— No, I’m sure she got it all light. A note would not take long. I spent more, than J ——meant to, because Ettie loves books; and (i Christmas present, too!” “Get me mv writing-pad, quickly, child ! I’d no idea how the timo had gone. Whatever will your auntie think? And the-very book I longed for, too! How sweet of her to remember. But she always does remember everything. The most unselfish darling. Here, give me a postcard. I’ll write later on.” A hasty scrawl, “Thunks for book; too lovely fa? words. Sorry forgot to write. - r ?Tw letter never goes, and that is tflo reward for the “most unselfish, claiiing.” “Well, she is a dear! However, slio finds time- beats me. A liousejacket is the very thing I most wanted. Isn’t it sweet of her? Now, I must writo and thank her before I go o bed. Doesn’t it fit well, too? She is a trump!” , “A week gone,,and not n word ol the jacket. I suppose it doesn't fit, and she’s afraid to hurt my feeling • Just my luck. I’m so impulsive. ought to have got her pattern on the sly? She is a hit dilatory, but surely, -- sho would be prompt. Oh, heie s t Po^For I gi ye me, darling, all my abominable procrastination; fits perrectn , enchanted!” , • • i. The gifts of sweet remembrance aMc not for thanks. They should be.' ‘ spontaneous as the gift itsrft; ~ even common (?) courtesy has code. As for tardy, Wffiinotory thanks, kShakespeare says ‘That courtesy is not of the right breed! hot such courtesies ualone; they are seen y ones.”

THE CRAZE FOR CERTIFICATES, When I consider how the lives of all tlm little Floras and Olgas arc spent nowadays practising pieces from ’l} ' ing to night on an my anger is intense (writes ina”). Dh, that the supposed talent” to play were lodged. with them useless. How much better foi tl selves and the world generally it hours they spend indoors Tryiiio • play difficult etudes, fantastic * a - n ‘' - ias, witl.iS>heir unendurable and o - vio’w .variations, were given up ! piaffing children’s games out of dooisj Then the families in the neighborhood would not be driven to the - distraction by the excruciating torture j of listening, willy-nilly, to the etein 1

banging and thumping. A list as long as one’s arm has just been published in the Sydney papers (and, no doubt, Melbourne, Adelaide, and Brisbane bubble over in the same way), of the names of the students in various grades of pianoforte exercises. In the elcmentray section they are counted by the score. Higher up they grow - less and less, until ill the advanced grades there are but few. The gods be thanked for tins. Some check is thus placed on the piano-playing madness. But this goes to prove that, even mediocrity is difficult of attainment, and what is it all for? Why does every schoolgirl waste hours and hours of her precious life over an instrument her parents must know she will quit as soon as she puts her hair up, perhaps before. But every girl is to her parents a potential Charreno or Paderewski. Sir Frederick Bridge, by his straightforward denunciation of the examination system (continues “Christina”) may have helped, more than he knows, to crush the desire so rampant to play the piano.. It is" not the piano tho children love, it is the certificates and the diplomas. They look so grand when framed on the wall. ‘ Sir Frederick, though distributing awards at the time, in his capacity as chairman of Trinity College, London, said that practising the same piece set for some examination several hours a day for six months did the pupil no good musically, and was a torment to all right-minded people, learning “to rattle over the keys like greased lightning” was not a bit of use. What piano playing required was brain work first and execution afterwards. Few of the inspired musicians En gland "has produced were degree men. Elgar, Sullivan, and Oowen had the degree of “doctor” bestowed npon them. They did not “pass” in the ordinary acceptance of the term. The craze for parchments, according to Sir Frederick, is the bane of modern" musicial study.