The Parents' Review

A Monthly Magazine of Home-Training and Culture

Edited by Charlotte Mason.

"Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life."
Aunt Mai's Budget

by Author Name
Volume 7, 1896, pgs. 374-381

'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
And Nod.

"Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And a wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock on the misty sea.
When the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
And Nod."

Drawings to be sent to Aunt Mai before the 30th.


Several children have written to say that dressing the Queens is too difficult for them. Next year we will therefore form a class for nieces who will dress dolls in the various European costumes.

Marjory Dunthorn wins a prize this month. Margery Hollings has dressed a stately Queen.

In July dress Anne Boleyn.


The following members have sent in papers and received marks accordingly, viz.:--

Div. I.--H. Bernard Ward (6), Honora Sneyd (5), Clare Pelly (6), Susan Venables (5), Madeleine Graham Watson (6), Elsie Alexander (4), Kathleen Bird (6), Pearl Borrer (4), Winifred Grice (6).

Div. II.--Eva Hudson (6), Cicely Foster (5), R. Goddard (5), Kathleen Hosking (6), Esmé Graham Watson, two papers (12), Janet Brooke (6), Hawthorne Robertson (6), Dorothy Senior (5).

Div. III.--Kathleen Sandbach, two papers (12), Hester Sandbach, two papers (12), Dorothy Yeo, Hampstead (4), Kenneth Yeo (4), Ethelwyn Robertson (6), Helen Duff (5).

Answers for next month's papers to be send to Miss Phoebe Allen, Ileden, Bonchurch, LW.


The following have sent in the name of the bravest woman in their opinion:--
"I think Boadicea was the bravest woman because she had not Christianity to help her as others had." WINIFRED TIBBITS.
"I think the bravest woman was Grace Darling." MADGIE CROOK.
"I think Joan of Arc." WILFIE CROOK
"Catharine Douglas." LUCY SCOTT MONCCRIEFF.
"Grace Darling." MADGE FRANKLIN.


1. Purple Foxglove--Digitalis Purpurea
2. Sweet Woodruff--Asperula Odorata
3. Blackberry--Rubus Fruticosus
4. Lesser Spear-wort--Ranunculus Felmmula
5. Honeysuckle--Loncera Periclymenum
6. Purple Clove--Trifolium pretense
7. Hair-bell--Campanula Rotundifolia
8. Ragged Robin--Lychnis Flos-Cuculi
9. Campion--Lychnis diurnal
10. Common Daisy--Bellis perennis
11. White Ox-eye--Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum
12. Corn Feverfew--Matricaria Inodora
13. Nettled-leaved Bell-flower--Campanula Trachelium
14. Common Ragwort--Senecio Jacoboea
15. Ling--Calluna Vu
16. Cross Leaved Heath--Erica Tetralix
17. Field Bindweed--Convolvulus arvensis
18. Common Yellow Cow-wheat--Melampyrum pretense
19. Common Eye-bright--Euphrasia Officinalis
20. Great Mullein--Verbascum Thapsus
21. Wild Thyme--Thymus Scrpyllum
22. Hedge Wound-wort--Stachys Sylvatica
23. Wood Betony--Betonica Officinalis
24. Common Cow-parsnip--Heracloeum Sphondylium
25. Common Elder--Sumbricus Nigra
26. Germander Speedwell--Veronica Chamoedrys
27. St. John's Wort--Hypericum Perforatum
28. Wild Mustard--Sinapis Arvensis
29. Common Agrimony--Agrimonia Eupatoria
30. Lesser Willow Herb--
31. Tufted Vetch--Vicia Cracca
32. Meadow Vetchling--Lathyrus Pratensis
33. Meadow-sweet--Sproea Ulmaria
34. Spotted Orchis--Orchis Masculata
35. Herb Robert--Geralium Robertianum
36. Cathartic Flax--Linum Catharticame

Can any children add to this list on the 12th July this year?


Though now-a-days every one wears silk in some form or another, yet few think of the trouble and cost of the manufacture of the material, and the many processes to be gone through before the silk is ready for use. In this country silk worms are not cultivated for profit, only for amusement. Most of the silk worm culture is carried on in China, Italy, and the South of France, where the climate is favourable, and mulberry trees abound.

That the silk worm was cultivated in Egypt thousands of years ago we know, for in Genesis we read that Pharoah clothed Joseph in vesture of silk. As about 40,000 silk worms' eggs weigh an ounce, you may calculate how very small quantity will be required to start on. While the eggs are being hatched they must be kept warm and dry. The time for hatching is when the mulberry trees burst into leaf. Procure shallow paste board trays, place few eggs in each, and cover over with coarse white muslin. Take some mulberry leaves cut up fine, and as soon as the grubs are hatched place the shreds on the outside of the muslin, the tiny worms will creep through and feed. Never give wet leaves. Day by day move the earliest hatched grubs into a fresh box. Do not touch the worm, but move with a piece of cardboard together with the leaf it is feeding on. Date all the boxes. In five weeks from hatching the grub becomes a spinner. At this stage they will need plenty of food, four or five times daily. No longer cut up the leaves. When the grubs become transparent white and wander about as if looking for something to climb on, the want must be supplied in the form of small twigs or stalks of heather with the leaves removed, enough for all to spin on separately. If not convenient to wind off the silk at once, the cocoons should be placed in a basket or flannel bag and steamed for half an hour to kill the chrysalis, which would otherwise eat its way out. The cocoons take ten days to make.

Silk worms will live on lettuce leaves, but are never so fine as when fed on mulberry leaves. After starting on mulberry leaves they will not eat lettuce.


I. Cherry Jelly.--1 lb. Cherries, 1 oz. gelatine, 1/4 lb. lump sugar. Soak the gelatine in a cup full of water for an hour. Remove the stalks and stones from the cherries. Boil the sugar in half a pint of water for ten minutes, throw in the cherries and let them boil for ten minutes. Dissolve the gelatine in a little of the syrup and add it to the cherries. Put the preparation into a damp mould, and turn into a glass dish when quite cold. (see Parent's Review, November, 1895) can be served with this dish.

II. Green Peas--Peas are best when quite young and freshly shelled. Put plenty of water with a pinch of salt into a saucepan. When it is quite boiling put in the shelled peas and let them boil till almost tender. The lid must not on any account be placed on the saucepan. The peas will be done enough in about twenty minutes if young and tender. When done, drain them well, and put them into another pan with a slice of butter the size of a walnut. Sprinkle a pinch of salt over them, and shake them over the fire to coat them with the butter. Turn them into a dish and serve very hot.



BY MRS. J. MILTON POLLITTE, Author of "Dorothy Penrose."

 A little pea was once blown by the wind into a dark corner, and lay there for a long time quite forgotten. It was not at all a nice corner to lie in, for it was dull and damp; no sun ever reached it, and though it was really in the wall of a fine old city with spires and roofs that rose high towards the sky, yet in this corner, as nothing could be seen of it, it mattered nothing to those who lived there. Not much did live there excepting some plantains, and the place was so dull that even these which had once been a rather numerous family, had nearly all died off, being now reduced to two little plants, which grew side by side quite close to the wall. These having nothing higher than themselves to look at, had naturally got a very false opinion of their own stature.

But one morning, the little pea which had been lying for a long time in a heavy sleep, awake, and began to get up from the earth on which she was lying. The plantains were much surprised (for they had never seen a pea) and regarded the waking efforts of the slender little plant with much interest.

"Who are you?" asked one.

"Shall I help you to get up?" inquired the other.

"Oh, dear!" sighed the little pea when she had lifted her head fairly above the group, "what a dull place!"

"You are a very bad disposed little thing!' cried the first plantain, "don't you know that it is the duty of every plant to be contented?

 "Besides," continued the other, "what more can you possibly want than this nice corner?"

"We live here, so I'm sure it is all right."

"And our parents were here before us, " chimed in the other, "and perhaps their parents, too---we are quite an old family and most respectable; pray don't say such a thing again!"

So the little pea quite abashed held her peace, and inly resolved to try and be more like her neighbours.

But in a little while, something began to call to the little pea and looking up, she saw, right above her head a long, long, way off, a sight so beautiful that her heart leaped for joy. It was something blue, deep, lovely, blue; and the heart of the little pea began to beat violently, and she became so restless that she could not keep still, so she put out her hand which was long and slender, and caught hold of a bit of mortar in the wall. To her surprise she found her hand was much longer than she expected, for without much trouble she reached another bit of mortar, and then another, and her little brain felt giddy with delight.

"I am going up!" sobbed the little pea, for pleasure had taken away her breath, "Oh! oh! -- I'm gong higher! Higher! Perhaps I can get to that blue!" -- and she put forth all her strength and went on past ever so many more bricks. The plantains were astonished--

"Where are you going?" cried one.

"It's very unbecoming to stretch your arms out in that fashion," cried the other.

The little pea bent her head which had now grown so high that she could only see her companions by looking down.

"I'm only going a little higher, " she said apologetically, "there's--there's something up here I want to get to."

"The sky!" said the pea, "the sun!"

"Well!" retorted the plantain, "what's the sky? And the sun's no great matter I can tell you. For my part I've never seen him, and I don't want to do."

"But," hesitated the pea, "I'm growing, I can't help it."

"Then you should have more sense," said the plantain, "if you'd a proper feeling of duty you'd remain as you were. Look at me. I don't grow!"

"But," asked the pea, "wouldn't you like to grow?"

"No," said the plantain virtuously, "I wouldn't like to be a bit taller than I am. I'm exactly right."

"And we are quite contented too," added the other, " for we know that there's nothing nicer in the world than what we can see here." By the time the plantains had finished speaking, however, it really did not matter much what they said, for their voices were getting quite faint, the fact being that the pea had now got so high that she was almost out of hearing, and was still going up. It was getting lighter too, the air was sweeter, and oh! What was this? a sudden glory had touched her! a warm brilliant light! and quite dazzled, the pea threw her arms over the top of the wall and her eyes filled with tears.

"The sun! the sun!" she sobbed, "Oh! the sun!" and she bent down her head feeling wonderfully happy. She was changing, growing more and more beautiful, sweet blossoms white, pink and purple, began to creep from her delicate leaves, and hang like garlands on her bosom, her green tendrils shone like emeralds in the sun, the fresh morning dew was on her heart. "How happy I am!" cried the pea, "how good it is to live!" and she bent her head still further over the wall and remained there quite tranquil and happy. She knew not how long, for life was now so joyous that she forgot to count its hours.

But one day some people passed the wall carrying baskets full of flowers. "Oh, see!" said one, "that sweet pea! what a beautiful garland!" and to the poor pea's dismay he stopped, and reaching up the wall, tore the whole of his beautiful like away, and putting her in his basket carried her off. "For awhile the pea was filled with grief and disappointment, but with her life, her wisdom had grown too, and she soon reflected that whatever is perfect or beautiful in the world is of some value, so she dried her tears, checked her sobs, and waited patiently to know the end.

When she was taken from the basket, she was no longer in the free blue air she had breathed on the top of the wall. She was in a great Cathedral. The air was heavy with incense, solemn music streamed slowly down the vast aisles, and the sun shone through gorgeously painted windows. Great crowds of people filled the building.

Before the altar was a richly decorated bier, and on this bier lay a dead warrior, with his sword and shield beside him. He looked like marble, he was so pale and still. All around him hung garlands of flowers, and among these garlands the sweet pea was now placed. She was quite content. Her life was over, but it had not ended in darkness behind life was over, but it had not ended in darkness behind the wall. She could not of course understand all she saw, but she knew that she was in the presence of something mightier than she could ever now, and that a life must have been wonderful indeed to have so glorious an end!

So she bent her head meekly to the sun, unfolded her flowers in gratitude to its solemn light, and filled the air with her sweet breath.

In the meantime the stems which had supported her while she climbed the wall had fallen back and withered to the ground.

The plantains were still there. The saw her fall and their little hearts exalted.

"It serves her right!" said one, "she should not have gone so high!" "I don't see what else she could expect," said the other.

What did the plantains know of the sun and the wild blue air? of the Cathedral and the dead warrior? of the spirit and the fame that could never die?