Perhaps someone who reads the title of this paper may be inclined to inquire, "Why do you write the baby, as if there were but one baby instead of millions in the world?"
Ah! Every mother knows why; and every loving-hearted young nurse knows why. "My baby," says the young mother, "is the baby of all the world." And "our baby" is the same to the members of the household, if they are of the right sort.
Knowing, as I do, how many mothers of all ages, as well as their daughters, come to the pages of THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER, or apply to its editor, for information on all sorts of domestic subjects, I am most anxious to be of use both to them and their young folk. I feel especial sympathy for those who, until they became mothers, never had anything to do with the practical management of little children. Members of large families pick up their experience quite naturally amongst the little brothers and sisters, and the children of the elder ones furnish in turn a baby school for girl aunts. But where a girl is placed as I was (the latest-born and only survivor of a small family, whose only opportunity of nursing was with a borrowed baby, if there happened to be one in a neighbour's house) she is not likely to be very skilful in the management of a first arrival, at any rate, when she becomes a wife and mother.
Shall I ever forget my own awkwardness under such circumstances; my utter ignorance of the thousand little ways of making a baby comfortable; my yearning love towards the pink-faced girlie, and matronly pride in the possession of this living treasure, which an empire's wealth would not have sufficed to purchase?
Mingled with such thoughts was a lamentable sense of my own insufficiency and inability to discharge fitly the sacred trust which the possession of the helpless babe entailed upon me. And, as I lay in weakness, and saw skilful hands occupied about my little one and knew my deficiencies, even as regarded the care of its tender frame, other solemn thoughts crossed my mind about the living immortal soul of which that was the only covering.
"Lo! Children are an heritage of the Lord," says the inspired Psalmist, and this baby girl was, then, the first instalment which He had given to me. How comforting was the sweet thought that followed; "He who has bestowed will also teach me to treasure His gift and to nurse this child for Him!" I felt then, as I do still after many years, that if there is one human being who, more than another, needs to be instant in prayer, it is surely the mother to whom such a sacred charge is entrusted.
I smile sometimes when I look at the tall girls who call me mother, and who now, in the way of stature, look down on me, yet who run with willing feet in my service, and to save mine a needless step. I smile because I think of the time when I was their willing slave by night and by day, and far more frightened of the first, in her baby years, than all my children put together have ever been of me. But love is a good teacher – especially maternal love – and it is often said that babies bring that into the world with them, or they would never be cared for as they are.
I am not going to write directions suitable for the first few weeks of an infant's life. During that early period it is usually under the care of an experienced or professional nurse. Even in the poorest of homes, when the parents' means are so small the mother cannot afford to pay for the constant attendance of such a person, there is always some kindly neighbour who, without fee or reward, undertakes to wash and dress the baby.
My first advice shall be as to the preparation of the nurse for her work. Take to it in yourself a cleanly person and a good temper, which latter finds its outward reflection in a bright, cheerful countenance. Even the few weeks' old baby shows a marvellous susceptibility to externals, and it would be difficult to say how soon it begins to imitate, or to manifest pleasure at what it sees, if that be pleasant.
On the contrary, who has not noticed the shock which a baby receives from the sound of a harsh voice, or the sight of a sullen, angry face? I have seen a little creature gaze searchingly at its mother's countenance and, if there were no answering smile, the dear eyes have seemed to lose their dancing light, the sorrowful "pet lip," and perhaps a burst of crying has followed. The more intelligent the infant the more sensitive it is to what some would call trifles.
So, dear nurses, go to your care of the baby as to a real labour of love, and let the love shine in your faces, be heard in the ring of your voices, and be manifested by the absence of all impatience or hastiness of temper, even if you should have a very cross baby to deal with. Poor wee things! They cannot tell their troubles, and depend on it, if the baby is "fractious" it has some good reason for it, though you may not be able to find it out. So let your bright face, your endearing words, your cheery song, coax away the puckers from the face of your little charge if all these will do it. But in no case let its cross face be a reflection of your own.
Have nothing about you that can possibly hurt the little one. Rings, brooches, watch-chains, floating ribbons, and ornaments of all kinds are needless and out of place when you are busy with baby. Let your hair be smooth and tidy. Examine your dress to see that no stray pin has been stuck on the belt or waist, and that your sleeves are tucked up and fastened so that you neither get them wet nor have them loose and flapping about in baby's face.
Put on a wide flannel apron, of which every nurse should have two – "one to wash the other" – then you will always have a clean one for present use.
Be calm and patient about your work, neither hurrying nor occupying too much time over the washing and dressing business. Handle the little one very tenderly. Even if your work be one of necessity rather than of inclination, let the infant's helplessness pl with you; for member, a little impatience, a sudden jerk of those delicate limbs, might cause injury to your charge, and to yourself life-long repentance.
Inexperienced nurses are apt to become frightened and flurried if a baby cries, kicks, and screams. But, if the little one is in a passion, there is all the more need for the nurse to be calm, and to oppose patience and firmness to its struggle and clamour. Keep thoroughly master of yourself, dear young nurse, and you will manage baby all the more easily.
Have every requisite ready to your hands before you begin, and let each article of clothing be so placed as to come in its proper turn; so that there may be no rummaging amongst garments, or running about to seek something that ought to be close at your side when wanted. Such neglect tries baby's patience, exposes him to the risk of cold, and you to blame for your want of system and forethought.
Mind that baby, when undressed or in the bath, is not exposed to a draught of cold air. You may guard against this by extemporising a screen in the shape of a clothes'-horse with a sheet or quilt thrown over it.
Here I would say a few words about the clothing of infants. It, as well as the bedding, should combine lightness with warmth. It is of far more importance that it should be plentiful in quantity, and good in quality, so as to secure cleanliness by frequent changes and comfort in the use, than very elaborate in workmanship, or much ornamented.
If much trimming is used, by all means let it be in the shape of soft cambric frills or narrow torchon lace.
Muslin work – especially if a laundress is so ill-advised as to stiffen it in order to make it set well – is a great cause of irritation to an infant's tender neck and arms.
A good nurse will pass her finger round the bands and along the seams of all clothing that is likely to come in contact with the child's skin. If she finds any roughness or sharp points, she rubs them before putting on the garment.
This is not the place to enumerate the articles which compose an infant's wardrobe; but I should like to mention one. The little lawn or cambric shirts worn during the first few weeks are usually made open in the front, from top to bottom. I have always used and recommended a shirt made of one width of the linen, with a single seam at the side, but open on the shoulders, on each of which it fastens with a small linen button and loop. It is slipped over the head so easily; there is no twisting of arms to get them into sleeves; it is quickly fastened, and, when on, it keeps its place and looks pretty, which is more than can be said of the old-fashioned open article, with its useless laps and generally untidy effect.
As a baby should not only be washed, but have a bath every morning, the vessel used should be large enough to hold it comfortably, but rather shallow. The temperature of the water should be about 90 deg., but, as young nurses have not always a thermometer at hand, they should try it with the back of the hand, or, as I have seen some old nurses do, with the tip of the tongue. The whole hand is not a safe test, especially if it be one accustomed to work, s the skin becomes hardened and can bear much greater heat or cold than it would be safe to use for an infant's bath.
I have read some terrible cases of suffering, and even loss of life, which have been caused by the carelessness of young nurses in not ascertaining the water was of a proper temperature before putting in the child.
Soap of a non-irritating quality and a soft sponge must be used. If the infant is quite young, the left hand must be placed below its neck so as to support the head above water. The whole body, including the head, should be well soaped and then gently sponged, care being taken to rinse well all the little folds and creases, so that nothing impure or irritating be retained there. Soft, half-worn towels of nursery diaper are the best to dry with, and this should be tenderly done with due consideration for the delicate skin. The moisture should be absorbed from all bends and creases by gentle pressure – never by rubbing; though the back had limbs will be all the better for a little friction with the hand. Baby likes this when he is first undressed and after washing, and enjoys stretching his round limbs on his nurse's knee whilst she gives them a gentle chafing within reach of the warmth of a fire.
All the creases below the arms, knees, in the dimpled neck, behind the ears, between the thighs and body should be well powdered to prevent the chafing of the skin, and this ought to be done after every change of clothing or sponging, by night or day. A very able and experienced medical man, who has written a valuable work, within a very small compass, on sick and other nursing, advises the use of powdered starch for what we call puffing the baby.
Considering how much we have heard of the introduction of deleterious ingredients into what are called "violet powders," we must recognise the wisdom of this advice. It is of no consequence whether the powder is perfumed or not, but it is of the greatest importance that it should be pure and harmless. The powdering must never be neglected if baby's skin has been damped, so whenever sponging is requisite, the puff is also absolutely necessary.
One occasionally sees the scalp of an infant covered or patched with an unsightly crust. This is usually the result of insufficient or careless washing. At the first sign of it, the spot should be anointed with a bit of pure lard or a little olive oil. This will soften the crust, and it will generally come off during washing; but great care must be taken not to use any degree of violence to remove it. The simple application named and persistent cleanliness are the proper remedies both to take it away and prevent its recurrence.
A quite young baby needs, as I have already said, the supporting hand of the nurse to keep the head above water. An older infant that can sit up strongly and has learned to kick about in and enjoy the water, equally needs the watchful eye of the nurse, and should never be left in the bath for a moment.
A very little water and a very short time have proved sufficient to drown an infant before now, during the momentary absence of the nurse.
In fastening the clothes, use as few pins as possible, and let the pins be well-made safety pins. Wherever strings, buttons, and loops, or a stitch can be used instead, by all means substitute one of these. Always have a needle and thread beside you during the dressing process.
A second bath at night is not necessary, only light sponging o nurse's knee. The head should not be wetted I' evening, and after the morning bath the hair should be gently but thoroughly dried, and brushed with a very soft brush. Warm or tepid water is necessary during the first two or three years of a child's life, perhaps even longer in the cases of delicate children.
It is astonishing how very soon infants may be taught habits of cleanliness and regularly in taking food and rest. These things depend almost wholly on the care and attention bestowed by those who have the charge of them. Remember, dear mothers and young nurses, that it is from you, who are always about it, the little one receives its first and most durable impressions, whether for good or evil, and as regards both mind and body. Can you, then, e too careful with respect to what you do for it; or too prayerful and watchful over yourself in order that from you it may receive nothing but what is good?
After the bath a baby is generally ready for its food, and the meal is pretty certain to be followed by its morning sleep. If the mother nurses her infant herself and a young helper has washed and dressed it, the latter should put away the articles that are done with, empty and dry the bath, and expose night clothes and towels, if possible, to the open air. Never be in a hurry to wrap up clothing or cover up beds. Let them have plenty of fresh air, or at least as much as you can possibly give them. I ought to have said the moment baby is taken out of his cot, the bed should be shaken up and all the bedding spread out and thus exposed. It is an excellent plan to have two sets of sheets in use, one for nights and the other for days; then this airing can be well carried out.
Often, when travelling in Switzerland, I have been struck with the carefulness of the people in airing their beds. As you pass through a village in the early morning, if you look from the windows of the diligence, you will see the beds, which are small, light and much more portable than ours, hanging from every casement. They are turned over and exposed for hours to the fresh air and light, a process which must tend greatly to their purification and to the health of those who use them.
By all means imitate as far as possible this excellent example, and though our cumbrous beds cannot be hung out in like manner, we may give them the benefit of frequent exposure to air and light.
Baby's little bed or mattress, from its small size, has a better chance than any other, so let him have the full advantage of this.
In my next chapter I shall try to give simple instructions on "How to Nurse the Baby."
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Thursday, 9 February 2017
Sunday, 27 November 2016
23 April 1881 'How to Wash and Dress the Baby' by Ruth Lamb - Chapter 1 'About Little Nurses'
Before I enter upon the main subject of these chapters I should like to devote a portion of them to a very large class of helpful-handed little people. I mean young nurses. This class includes both boys and girls. Had it not been for this fact, I might perhaps call these youngsters "Little Mothers." But I see, almost daily, such pleasant pictures of small boy-nurses in the exercise of their vocation, that the class must be understood to include them also, if fairly treated.
Perhaps there is no place in which the genus "little nurse" can be studied in all its varieties and to greater advantage than in our public parks. On every fine morning especially, it is to be met with at almost every turn, and of nearly all ages above that of the actual baby in charge.
In the houses of well-to-do people, where there are experienced nurses to assist mothers in the care of their children, or sometimes – alas that it should be so! – to take the entire charge of them during infancy, the elder little people of the family generally have to beg to be allowed to "take baby."
The little lassie of eight or nine who is, perhaps, a baby worshipper, and whose ambition it is to be called a good nurse, is sometimes quite indignant at the amount of supervision to which she is subjected all the while baby is on her knee. She chafes at the continual charges, "Mind you don't hurt him, Miss Annie!" "He'll be off your knee if you're not more careful!" "Put your arm behind his back!" and so on, *ad libitum.
At the same time the vigilant eyes of nurse are so perpetually turned in the direction of her amateur assistant, that any sense of responsibility in that quarter is utterly destroyed, and Miss Annie herself waxes indignant under this persistent and irritating espionage.
True, the elder child's young arms lack the strength and dexterity of nurse's practised ones; but baby, if well, does not object to Annie's rather awkward mode of handling him. He likes to see her young, fresh laughing face close to his, and sister Annie's hair is delightful to pull and to bury his small fists in. He seizes it and tugs with all his might, and so retaliates on his little nurse for having so poked and tickled him into a fit of laughter, in which she joins as heartily. His real nurse's head-gear is much less attractive, her prim cap being carefully and necessarily kept out of baby's clutches, and her hair, tidily tucked beneath it, offers no such temptation to baby's roving fingers as to Miss Annie's soft flowing curls.
But nurse has perhaps just tidied Miss Annie for dinner, and the ruffled hair is an additional grievance. "You should not let baby pull your hair so," she says, in a tone of reproof. "I shall have it all to curl up again before you go downstairs."
It seems a pity to disturb such a delightful game, when baby brother and little sister are so innocently happy. But Annie is tired of such constant looking after, tired of the continual nagging and cautioning, and she would not hurt the chubby darling for all the world. So she sighs in a weary fashion, gives baby a hearty kiss on his dear little distended mouth, evading another grab at her curls as she does so, and resigns herself anew into the hands of nurse, who grumbles a good deal at having to put her right a second time.
Annie's mind is considerably exercised on the subject of nursing and of her assumed helplessness in comparison with the scores of little nurses whom she sees in sole charge of babies. None of the tiny creatures appear to come to any harm in consequence of the trust reposed in mere children by poor mothers who have no choice but to do this, if their household work is to be completed in anything like a reasonable time. She wonders why poor people's children may be trusted to do all sorts of things for and with babies; whereas she is looked after, watched and cautioned at every turn, just as if her little brother was made of egg-shell china, and she had made up her mind to break him with a touch.
Miss Annie looks at her round strong arms, very different from those of some little nurses she sees out of doors; she knows that her limbs are stronger, because she has good health, and is better fed and looked after than they are; she has the will to be useful, and she loves, with all the warmth of her young heart, the helpless darling in the nursery at home.
She feels half-angry, half-humiliated, and says to herself, "I wish I lived in a cottage where there are no nurses to bother and fidget, then mamma would be glad to let me have baby and take him out whenever I liked."
There are plenty of children like our "miss Annie," who grow up comparatively helpless, but who are only so because they are neither taught how to make themselves useful, nor trusted. As a hint both to mothers and children, let me point out a few of the valuable qualities which I have seen developed in little nurses. These have come under my notice as I have watched them in the streets and parks, far beyond the overseeing eye of the mother who was often toiling for their bread at the wash-tub or in the mill.
Carefulness, patience, unselfishness, endurance, good temper, tender love for the little one, and trustworthiness. Perhaps I should notice the last mentioned quality before all the rest. The mother must believe in its existence when she trusts her infant to the care of a nine year old girl or boy. How seldom does the child fail her! How carefully is the baby held, just as a mother holds it! How watchful are those young eyes over the one, two, or three other children who play round the doorstep or near a eat in the park on which the little nurse sits with her sleeping charge.
As to patience, I do not know whether to yield the palm for this virtue to the boy or the girl nurse. Only a few mornings ago I noticed a boy patting, petting, kissing, and comforting a baby whose tearful eyes and pouting lips told of some little trouble. How he persevered in his efforts to pacify the child! He walked up and down, made droll faces and droller noises, until at last he won back a smile to the bonny round face, while his own looked the picture of happiness. The sound of a hearty kiss was the last thing I heard as I turned out of the park.
If you want to know whether these little nurses are interested in their charges, seat yourself near a couple of them and listen to their conversation. You can have a book in your hand, which will put them quite at their ease, though you need not read it.
One will perhaps tell, with anxious face, of some narrow escape that her baby had had through getting cold when he had measles. The other will speak with exultation of a new frock which mother is making for hers. They will compare ages, count and exhibit the wee ivories just peeping, and tenderly rub the little gums to help the next one through. And is not that small nurse a proud individual if her baby, being the same age as the other, or perhaps a little younger, has actually cut a tooth or two more, or has a less bald pate under its woollen hood.
Then what beauty they see in their baby's face! You and I might think it a poor skinny elfish-looking creature, but the little nurse does not. Love gives beauty, and the helpless thing is perfectly lovely in the eyes of its young guardian. You will hear all sorts of admiring epithets showered upon it if you listen.
You know the little nurse's arms ache, and you wonder how she goes on holding it, hour after hour, without a word of complaint. Many a mother would think she had done a great thing had she held her child for half the time.
I write especially in the hope of attracting the thoughtful attention of the girls who will be the mothers of the next generation.
If you, dear girls who read this paper will look around you, you will see many an exhibition of those fine qualities of patience and uncomplaining endurance amongst the little nurses in whom I feel a deep interest. Conscience will, perhaps, tell you that untaught, ignorant, as many of them are, you might yet learn many a lesson from them as you pass along the highways in town or country.
The little nurses are unselfish and brave. Often I Have seen one take off the little woollen shawl, which was doing duty as a bonnet on her own person as well as being her only out-door covering, and wind it round the baby lest the cold wind should reach him.
Fancy, too, the temptations that have to be resisted. Do you not think those two bright lads would like a game at marbles, as well as their neighbours who are unfettered by baby or perambulator? Of course they would, and, depend on it, the faithful nurses, whether girls or boys, fight and bravely win a hard battle when they turn from ball, skipping-rope, hoop, or marbles, and remain the spectators of games in which they long to join, because they will not neglect the helpless infants entrusted to their care.
They have their pleasures as well as trials. In the warm, summer weather, when the grass is dry and the sun shining, the little ones will kick about and sprawl on the ground, enjoying the bustle that is going on around them. But often, when the day we glorious for active play, and the sky is bright and clear, there is a cold wind and the grass is damp. Baby could not be laid down safely, and then the courage and self-denial of the little nurse are called into operation. Then great victories are won of which the world knows nothing.
Little nurses, as a rule, have their reward in the growth, progress, and increasing strength of their babies. What joy and exultation do the first tottering steps cause to their guardians! How proud are they when the wee thing can run alone!
And far beyond even these rewards are the approving smile and word, the whispered blessing, the loving kiss of a good mother, with whose cares and anxieties their children sympathise, and whose toil their young hands have lightened.
There are such animals as crabby, impatient little nurses. I have seen such that could scold and even strike the help.ess and unfortunate babies with which they had to do. But, thank god! There are few instances of this kind and so many of the opposite.
There are mothers, too, who are apt, probably because they do not think about it, to speak lightly or not at all of their children's services. They take their loving labours as a matter of course, and hardly care to cheer and encourage them on the path of duty. So the children gradually become indifferent, and look upon that as an irksome task which should be a pleasure. But it is not with such as these that I am specially dealing in this paper. I wish to picture, as I o often see them manifested, those high and noble qualities which are drawn out in the characters of children by the very fact of trusting them.
We cannot help contrasting the helpful children of the cottage and the streets with those who do nothing, simply because they have so many people to care for them that they are neither called on to think for themselves, nor for others. Watched, waited on, thought for in everything, they grow up helpless, because they have never been exercised in self-reliance; and selfish, because they have not been taught the blessedness of giving, or giving up anything for the sake of others.
There is one sad drawback in the case of little nurses who are trusted too much and too early. They seem almost weighed down with family cares whilst they are but children. Theirs is the growing "old too soon." But in the homes of well-to-do parents, there is little fear of the children being overburdened, whilst it would surely be worth their while to draw out such qualities in their young people as are daily exercised in the houses of their poorer neighbours.
Children who never have to do with babies are often, I was going to say amusingly, awkward in handling an infant. Better, however, say pitiably awkward; because it is a pity that the "future mothers" of our race should have no training in this most important part of woman's work. Boys of this class usually consider it *infra dig to notice babies in public. If they condescend to kiss them they manifest a strong objection to open-mouthed salutes, and touch the little velvet cheek with their lips much as they might approach a red-hot poker. It is a touch-and-go process, which makes mothers and grown-up nurses smile pityingly at the urchin who does not know how delightful is a genuine baby kiss.
Happily, there are lots of little mothers "to the manner born" in every station f life. I fancy I see one of these as I write. From her very infancy she loves her doll as a true mother loves her child, and should an accident befall her wooden or waxen darling, she grieves and moans over it, not as a broken toy, but a wounded baby. Its eruptions – of sawdust – cause her all the anxiety incident to measles. Her tears are real tears, and it is of no use to intimate that the broken arm, over which she is weeping causes Dolly no pain.
A matter-of-fact child laughs contemptuously at the idea of a doll being able to feel, and points to the wooden fragments as proof of her being in the right. She means well, doubtless, but her calm indifference only adds to the grief of the loving-hearted little mite, who presses her injured darling to her breast and loses hours of sleep in weeping.
There is neither rest nor comfort for her until somebody sets to work and restores the limb as far as possible, and then she sleeps; but even then she sobs at intervals as if the trouble could not be forgotten.
As the little mother grows older she wins everybody's admiration by the "handy" way in which she nurses a real baby, and when she has shot up into a slender slip of a lass, as tall as her own mother, she is a greater infant-worshipper than ever. She bestows a perfect wealth of love on the wee things, and the younger they are the better she likes them; because they want the most care and nursing.
If the little mother is missing from her own home circle, her mamma sends a message of inquiry to the nearest friend's house, where she is made free of the nursery, or perhaps to some cottage in the neighbourhood, where a nice clean baby is to be found. Perhaps her attentions are least acceptable to children beyond babyhood. She plagues them a little by wanting to wash and tidy them more frequently than they like, because she is so fond of the work and delights in making them look nice. But she generally coaxes them to submit by offering bribes in the shape of wonderfully got-up dolls, of which she always has a store ready, dressed by her nimble young fingers.
Bless the loving little woman! She is not without a reasonable liking for school work, and loves reading as well as most. But her great charm is her delightful motherliness, even as a child, a quality which is, I fear, insufficiently cultivated at home, and never thought of at all in schools, or supposed to have any place in the so-called "Higher Education of Women."
Yet when I see these sweet feminine qualities in the lassie, I often think to myself that if I were a youth - a good one, mind – I should watch the growing into womanhood of such a "little mother" as I have described. I should value the development of these heaven-bestowed womanly instincts as something more precious than any amount of certificates won for Latin or advanced mathematical knowledge. And though I might have a choice between such a little damsel as I have described and a feminine senior wrangler, I would do my best to win the little mother as the mistress of my future home.
Just another picture of little nurses and I will finish. Some years ago I was in the Peel Park Museum, Salford, and was much edified at the sight of a number of these small people standing before the cases of gaily-plumaged, stuffed birds. They were spelling out the names and repeating them to such of their companions as were above baby age, thus doing their best to improve their minds as well as care for their bodies. I felt rather put out when a policeman conducted them to the door and told them, not unkindly, to "Go play in the park," probably for fear the clatter of their clogs should offend the ears of some well-dressed grown-up folk in the museum The longing, lingering looks they cast behind them quite spoiled my enjoyment, and I felt sorry that in this "People's Museum" well-behaved poor children should have been sent out, because their feet were clogged instead of shod, and necessarily made a clatter on the floors.
I went out almost immediately, and as I drew near the entrance gates I met a picnic party coming into the park – a little girl nurse with a disproportionately large baby in her arms, and quite a train of attendant youngsters, who were evidently going to have "a day out." They were nearly all barefoot, and their clothing was poor and scanty, though the baby was well bundled up in all sorts of odds and ends of garments.
There was a provision basket, containing a bottle of blueish-tinted milk, thick lunches of bread and dripping, a few green apples, and some indescribable scraps of other food. The party did not live in the immediate neighbourhood, as was evident, for the young leader glanced around in some bewilderment and then said to me, "Please will you tell me the way to the swings?"
I directed her to the girls' playground adding, "There were plenty of swings at liberty a few minutes since."
This information gave new vigour to the youngsters. The little nurse thanked me, hitched the baby a little higher on her shoulder, gave her free hand to the toddler next in size, saying, "Come on, Georgie. The lady says there's plenty of swings ready for us."
Away went the bare feet pattering over the hard gravel path, and this humble picnic party was soon lost to my view. With all my heart I wished them a happy day, a safe return, and a good rest for the little nurse in charge when the evening shadows should begin to fall.
Many a time since then, when I have seen over-indulged, helpless girls satiated with too many pleasures, almost wishing they had a want, and not knowing how to spend their time and use their strong limbs, I have thought of that half-clad, barefooted group, and of the almost awful responsibility of the mere child who was charged with the safe conduct of the rest.
When I began this chapter I did not intend to let little nurses occupy so much space, but they came before my mind's eye in such crowds, and I have long felt such a deep motherly interest in them as a class, that I have permitted them to push the baby itself out of sight for a time.
Yet I am truly anxious to interest both mothers and girls in this most important subject – namely, whatever concerns the care of the comfort and well-being of the baby. I am going to write out some simple instructions for its management, which I hope may be of use to young nurses who are willing but unskilful, and who are therefore afraid to offer help in washing, dressing, or nursing the baby.
Perhaps there is no place in which the genus "little nurse" can be studied in all its varieties and to greater advantage than in our public parks. On every fine morning especially, it is to be met with at almost every turn, and of nearly all ages above that of the actual baby in charge.
In the houses of well-to-do people, where there are experienced nurses to assist mothers in the care of their children, or sometimes – alas that it should be so! – to take the entire charge of them during infancy, the elder little people of the family generally have to beg to be allowed to "take baby."
The little lassie of eight or nine who is, perhaps, a baby worshipper, and whose ambition it is to be called a good nurse, is sometimes quite indignant at the amount of supervision to which she is subjected all the while baby is on her knee. She chafes at the continual charges, "Mind you don't hurt him, Miss Annie!" "He'll be off your knee if you're not more careful!" "Put your arm behind his back!" and so on, *ad libitum.
At the same time the vigilant eyes of nurse are so perpetually turned in the direction of her amateur assistant, that any sense of responsibility in that quarter is utterly destroyed, and Miss Annie herself waxes indignant under this persistent and irritating espionage.
True, the elder child's young arms lack the strength and dexterity of nurse's practised ones; but baby, if well, does not object to Annie's rather awkward mode of handling him. He likes to see her young, fresh laughing face close to his, and sister Annie's hair is delightful to pull and to bury his small fists in. He seizes it and tugs with all his might, and so retaliates on his little nurse for having so poked and tickled him into a fit of laughter, in which she joins as heartily. His real nurse's head-gear is much less attractive, her prim cap being carefully and necessarily kept out of baby's clutches, and her hair, tidily tucked beneath it, offers no such temptation to baby's roving fingers as to Miss Annie's soft flowing curls.
But nurse has perhaps just tidied Miss Annie for dinner, and the ruffled hair is an additional grievance. "You should not let baby pull your hair so," she says, in a tone of reproof. "I shall have it all to curl up again before you go downstairs."
It seems a pity to disturb such a delightful game, when baby brother and little sister are so innocently happy. But Annie is tired of such constant looking after, tired of the continual nagging and cautioning, and she would not hurt the chubby darling for all the world. So she sighs in a weary fashion, gives baby a hearty kiss on his dear little distended mouth, evading another grab at her curls as she does so, and resigns herself anew into the hands of nurse, who grumbles a good deal at having to put her right a second time.
Annie's mind is considerably exercised on the subject of nursing and of her assumed helplessness in comparison with the scores of little nurses whom she sees in sole charge of babies. None of the tiny creatures appear to come to any harm in consequence of the trust reposed in mere children by poor mothers who have no choice but to do this, if their household work is to be completed in anything like a reasonable time. She wonders why poor people's children may be trusted to do all sorts of things for and with babies; whereas she is looked after, watched and cautioned at every turn, just as if her little brother was made of egg-shell china, and she had made up her mind to break him with a touch.
Miss Annie looks at her round strong arms, very different from those of some little nurses she sees out of doors; she knows that her limbs are stronger, because she has good health, and is better fed and looked after than they are; she has the will to be useful, and she loves, with all the warmth of her young heart, the helpless darling in the nursery at home.
She feels half-angry, half-humiliated, and says to herself, "I wish I lived in a cottage where there are no nurses to bother and fidget, then mamma would be glad to let me have baby and take him out whenever I liked."
There are plenty of children like our "miss Annie," who grow up comparatively helpless, but who are only so because they are neither taught how to make themselves useful, nor trusted. As a hint both to mothers and children, let me point out a few of the valuable qualities which I have seen developed in little nurses. These have come under my notice as I have watched them in the streets and parks, far beyond the overseeing eye of the mother who was often toiling for their bread at the wash-tub or in the mill.
Carefulness, patience, unselfishness, endurance, good temper, tender love for the little one, and trustworthiness. Perhaps I should notice the last mentioned quality before all the rest. The mother must believe in its existence when she trusts her infant to the care of a nine year old girl or boy. How seldom does the child fail her! How carefully is the baby held, just as a mother holds it! How watchful are those young eyes over the one, two, or three other children who play round the doorstep or near a eat in the park on which the little nurse sits with her sleeping charge.
As to patience, I do not know whether to yield the palm for this virtue to the boy or the girl nurse. Only a few mornings ago I noticed a boy patting, petting, kissing, and comforting a baby whose tearful eyes and pouting lips told of some little trouble. How he persevered in his efforts to pacify the child! He walked up and down, made droll faces and droller noises, until at last he won back a smile to the bonny round face, while his own looked the picture of happiness. The sound of a hearty kiss was the last thing I heard as I turned out of the park.
If you want to know whether these little nurses are interested in their charges, seat yourself near a couple of them and listen to their conversation. You can have a book in your hand, which will put them quite at their ease, though you need not read it.
One will perhaps tell, with anxious face, of some narrow escape that her baby had had through getting cold when he had measles. The other will speak with exultation of a new frock which mother is making for hers. They will compare ages, count and exhibit the wee ivories just peeping, and tenderly rub the little gums to help the next one through. And is not that small nurse a proud individual if her baby, being the same age as the other, or perhaps a little younger, has actually cut a tooth or two more, or has a less bald pate under its woollen hood.
Then what beauty they see in their baby's face! You and I might think it a poor skinny elfish-looking creature, but the little nurse does not. Love gives beauty, and the helpless thing is perfectly lovely in the eyes of its young guardian. You will hear all sorts of admiring epithets showered upon it if you listen.
You know the little nurse's arms ache, and you wonder how she goes on holding it, hour after hour, without a word of complaint. Many a mother would think she had done a great thing had she held her child for half the time.
I write especially in the hope of attracting the thoughtful attention of the girls who will be the mothers of the next generation.
If you, dear girls who read this paper will look around you, you will see many an exhibition of those fine qualities of patience and uncomplaining endurance amongst the little nurses in whom I feel a deep interest. Conscience will, perhaps, tell you that untaught, ignorant, as many of them are, you might yet learn many a lesson from them as you pass along the highways in town or country.
The little nurses are unselfish and brave. Often I Have seen one take off the little woollen shawl, which was doing duty as a bonnet on her own person as well as being her only out-door covering, and wind it round the baby lest the cold wind should reach him.
Fancy, too, the temptations that have to be resisted. Do you not think those two bright lads would like a game at marbles, as well as their neighbours who are unfettered by baby or perambulator? Of course they would, and, depend on it, the faithful nurses, whether girls or boys, fight and bravely win a hard battle when they turn from ball, skipping-rope, hoop, or marbles, and remain the spectators of games in which they long to join, because they will not neglect the helpless infants entrusted to their care.
They have their pleasures as well as trials. In the warm, summer weather, when the grass is dry and the sun shining, the little ones will kick about and sprawl on the ground, enjoying the bustle that is going on around them. But often, when the day we glorious for active play, and the sky is bright and clear, there is a cold wind and the grass is damp. Baby could not be laid down safely, and then the courage and self-denial of the little nurse are called into operation. Then great victories are won of which the world knows nothing.
Little nurses, as a rule, have their reward in the growth, progress, and increasing strength of their babies. What joy and exultation do the first tottering steps cause to their guardians! How proud are they when the wee thing can run alone!
And far beyond even these rewards are the approving smile and word, the whispered blessing, the loving kiss of a good mother, with whose cares and anxieties their children sympathise, and whose toil their young hands have lightened.
There are such animals as crabby, impatient little nurses. I have seen such that could scold and even strike the help.ess and unfortunate babies with which they had to do. But, thank god! There are few instances of this kind and so many of the opposite.
There are mothers, too, who are apt, probably because they do not think about it, to speak lightly or not at all of their children's services. They take their loving labours as a matter of course, and hardly care to cheer and encourage them on the path of duty. So the children gradually become indifferent, and look upon that as an irksome task which should be a pleasure. But it is not with such as these that I am specially dealing in this paper. I wish to picture, as I o often see them manifested, those high and noble qualities which are drawn out in the characters of children by the very fact of trusting them.
We cannot help contrasting the helpful children of the cottage and the streets with those who do nothing, simply because they have so many people to care for them that they are neither called on to think for themselves, nor for others. Watched, waited on, thought for in everything, they grow up helpless, because they have never been exercised in self-reliance; and selfish, because they have not been taught the blessedness of giving, or giving up anything for the sake of others.
There is one sad drawback in the case of little nurses who are trusted too much and too early. They seem almost weighed down with family cares whilst they are but children. Theirs is the growing "old too soon." But in the homes of well-to-do parents, there is little fear of the children being overburdened, whilst it would surely be worth their while to draw out such qualities in their young people as are daily exercised in the houses of their poorer neighbours.
Children who never have to do with babies are often, I was going to say amusingly, awkward in handling an infant. Better, however, say pitiably awkward; because it is a pity that the "future mothers" of our race should have no training in this most important part of woman's work. Boys of this class usually consider it *infra dig to notice babies in public. If they condescend to kiss them they manifest a strong objection to open-mouthed salutes, and touch the little velvet cheek with their lips much as they might approach a red-hot poker. It is a touch-and-go process, which makes mothers and grown-up nurses smile pityingly at the urchin who does not know how delightful is a genuine baby kiss.
Happily, there are lots of little mothers "to the manner born" in every station f life. I fancy I see one of these as I write. From her very infancy she loves her doll as a true mother loves her child, and should an accident befall her wooden or waxen darling, she grieves and moans over it, not as a broken toy, but a wounded baby. Its eruptions – of sawdust – cause her all the anxiety incident to measles. Her tears are real tears, and it is of no use to intimate that the broken arm, over which she is weeping causes Dolly no pain.
A matter-of-fact child laughs contemptuously at the idea of a doll being able to feel, and points to the wooden fragments as proof of her being in the right. She means well, doubtless, but her calm indifference only adds to the grief of the loving-hearted little mite, who presses her injured darling to her breast and loses hours of sleep in weeping.
There is neither rest nor comfort for her until somebody sets to work and restores the limb as far as possible, and then she sleeps; but even then she sobs at intervals as if the trouble could not be forgotten.
As the little mother grows older she wins everybody's admiration by the "handy" way in which she nurses a real baby, and when she has shot up into a slender slip of a lass, as tall as her own mother, she is a greater infant-worshipper than ever. She bestows a perfect wealth of love on the wee things, and the younger they are the better she likes them; because they want the most care and nursing.
If the little mother is missing from her own home circle, her mamma sends a message of inquiry to the nearest friend's house, where she is made free of the nursery, or perhaps to some cottage in the neighbourhood, where a nice clean baby is to be found. Perhaps her attentions are least acceptable to children beyond babyhood. She plagues them a little by wanting to wash and tidy them more frequently than they like, because she is so fond of the work and delights in making them look nice. But she generally coaxes them to submit by offering bribes in the shape of wonderfully got-up dolls, of which she always has a store ready, dressed by her nimble young fingers.
Bless the loving little woman! She is not without a reasonable liking for school work, and loves reading as well as most. But her great charm is her delightful motherliness, even as a child, a quality which is, I fear, insufficiently cultivated at home, and never thought of at all in schools, or supposed to have any place in the so-called "Higher Education of Women."
Yet when I see these sweet feminine qualities in the lassie, I often think to myself that if I were a youth - a good one, mind – I should watch the growing into womanhood of such a "little mother" as I have described. I should value the development of these heaven-bestowed womanly instincts as something more precious than any amount of certificates won for Latin or advanced mathematical knowledge. And though I might have a choice between such a little damsel as I have described and a feminine senior wrangler, I would do my best to win the little mother as the mistress of my future home.
Just another picture of little nurses and I will finish. Some years ago I was in the Peel Park Museum, Salford, and was much edified at the sight of a number of these small people standing before the cases of gaily-plumaged, stuffed birds. They were spelling out the names and repeating them to such of their companions as were above baby age, thus doing their best to improve their minds as well as care for their bodies. I felt rather put out when a policeman conducted them to the door and told them, not unkindly, to "Go play in the park," probably for fear the clatter of their clogs should offend the ears of some well-dressed grown-up folk in the museum The longing, lingering looks they cast behind them quite spoiled my enjoyment, and I felt sorry that in this "People's Museum" well-behaved poor children should have been sent out, because their feet were clogged instead of shod, and necessarily made a clatter on the floors.
I went out almost immediately, and as I drew near the entrance gates I met a picnic party coming into the park – a little girl nurse with a disproportionately large baby in her arms, and quite a train of attendant youngsters, who were evidently going to have "a day out." They were nearly all barefoot, and their clothing was poor and scanty, though the baby was well bundled up in all sorts of odds and ends of garments.
There was a provision basket, containing a bottle of blueish-tinted milk, thick lunches of bread and dripping, a few green apples, and some indescribable scraps of other food. The party did not live in the immediate neighbourhood, as was evident, for the young leader glanced around in some bewilderment and then said to me, "Please will you tell me the way to the swings?"
I directed her to the girls' playground adding, "There were plenty of swings at liberty a few minutes since."
This information gave new vigour to the youngsters. The little nurse thanked me, hitched the baby a little higher on her shoulder, gave her free hand to the toddler next in size, saying, "Come on, Georgie. The lady says there's plenty of swings ready for us."
Away went the bare feet pattering over the hard gravel path, and this humble picnic party was soon lost to my view. With all my heart I wished them a happy day, a safe return, and a good rest for the little nurse in charge when the evening shadows should begin to fall.
Many a time since then, when I have seen over-indulged, helpless girls satiated with too many pleasures, almost wishing they had a want, and not knowing how to spend their time and use their strong limbs, I have thought of that half-clad, barefooted group, and of the almost awful responsibility of the mere child who was charged with the safe conduct of the rest.
When I began this chapter I did not intend to let little nurses occupy so much space, but they came before my mind's eye in such crowds, and I have long felt such a deep motherly interest in them as a class, that I have permitted them to push the baby itself out of sight for a time.
Yet I am truly anxious to interest both mothers and girls in this most important subject – namely, whatever concerns the care of the comfort and well-being of the baby. I am going to write out some simple instructions for its management, which I hope may be of use to young nurses who are willing but unskilful, and who are therefore afraid to offer help in washing, dressing, or nursing the baby.
Wednesday, 19 October 2016
19 March 1881 - 'Some Useful Hints on Surgery' by Medicus - Part Two
I should not like to think that any of my girl readers were in the habit of teasing either dog or cat, and thus falling victims to a well-deserved bite or scratch, but I am not quite so sure about their brothers. Well then, if your brother has been naughty towards a dog, and the animal has retaliated, as dogs, according to Dr. Watts's hymns, have a perfect right to do, you must not for a single moment imagine there is any danger to be apprehended from the bite. Nothing is more harmless than a cut from the tooth of a dog that is not actually rabid at the time; his going mad on some future day would not have the slightest effect upon the person bitten. Nevertheless, to comfort the naughty boy and allay his fears, something should be done to the bite. If water is quite handy the bitten part should be laved in it; this, in itself, if the water were cold enough, would cause contraction of the vessels and prevent the absorption of any poison. The bite must next be sucked well, and afterwards washed in salt and water. If any other treatment is necessary, the sufferer should be taken to a chemist, in order that the wound may be cauterised with nitrate of silver. In nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand there is no necessity for having a dog bite cauterised, except that it warns the youth who has been teasing the animal, and teaches him not to do so again.
Scratches from cats are not poisonous, only they seldom heal very kindly, because, like a cut with a rusty nail, they leave a ragged wound. They should be carefully washed to get rid of any dirt /t may lodge in them; and, if deep, bound up with a wet rag or, better still, a morsel of lint wetted in warm water with a little oiled silk placed over it. In a day or two, a simple dressing with cold cream, to exclude the air, will be all that is required.
We are very fortunate in this country in one way; our climate may well be called fickle and changeable, but we are free from the swarms of noxious insects and reptiles that make life in the tropics almost unendurable to us Europeans. We have no deadly tarantulas, no dreaded scorpions, nor six-inch-long centipedes. These creatures never creep from under our pillows; nor, while walking in our gardens, do venomous snakes hiss at us as they hang from the rose trees. We have, it is true, one poisonous serpent, the lovely little viper; but he seldom appears, and when he does he is far more afraid of you than you can be of him. But in summer seasons, when plums are plentiful and the farmers talk about potatoes as "a grand crop," we have in the country wasps in millions, and few escape being stung at least once before the cold weather comes on, and one ought to know what to do when such an accident occurs. There is no getting over the fact that certain people are more apt to be stung than others. I myself am a martyr to the playfulness of these yellow bees. I think they like to sting good people best, that is my way of looking at it; but I have some friends who permit wasps to alight upon and crawl upon their hands or faces. One day last summer I was prevailed upon by a lady relation, to allow one to alight on the back of my hand. This particular wasp just walked about the length of two of my knuckles, then he stopped as I said f some happy thought had just occurred to him. Next moment the wasp was calmly flying away through the open window, and I, the victim of misplaced confidence, was rushing frantically away for the ammonia bottle. Yes, that is the cure - ammonia, strong hartshorn; just wet the stoper of the bottle and put it on the part that has been stung. Hive bees always leave the sting, wasps only sometimes, but if they do so, it must be carefully extracted. If no hartshorn be at hand, try salt and water, or strong soda (washing soda), then rub the part with olive oil.
In wooded portions of the country, especially where the land lies low and flat, young people suffer greatly while in bed at night from the bites of gnats. These things are really second cousins to the real mosquitos, and the bite raises a swelling just as painful. Here again ammonia is the cure. I have known cases where delicate girls and children were quite fevered from the loss of rest and blood poisoning, caused by the bites of these tormenting insects. The febrile disturbance is accompanied by weakness and nervous depression; it is best relieved by the tincture of yellow bark, a small teaspoonful in water three or four times a day. Coffee also does good; it may be made in the morning and drunk cold in small quantities during the day, without either milk or sugar.
Those who walk much in grassy paddocks or orchards are often bitten by an extremely , almost invisibly, small insect called the harvest bug; touching the spot with hartshorn destroys the poison and kills the animalcule if it has burrowed. The swelling and pain occasioned by the bite is best allayed by rubbing the part with spirits of camphor.
Children sometimes, while eating fish, especially if eating hurriedly, a habit which is most prejudicial to digestion, have the misfortune to get a bone stuck in the throat. It is usually a small one, s that some attempt should be made to immediately get it down. Swallowing a morsel of bread only half chewed may do this. If not, and the bone can be seen or felt, it should be hooked out with the fingers. Choking on a piece of meat is a terrible accident. Medical aid should be at one summoned; but very often this is too late, and the victim to hurry in eating is dead ere he arrives. A smart blow or two on the back will often tend to dislodge a piece of meat or food of any kind stuck in the throat, but if any attempt at swallowing can be made, a tablespoonful of salad oil should be taken.
Talking of things sticking in the throat brings me to say a word or two about foreign bodies in other places.
In the eye, for example. While walking or riding on a summer's evening or afternoon, minute flying beetles often get into the eye. These tiny little gentlemen, as soon as the alight anywhere, immediately fold up their wings and put them away under a kind of tippet they wear over their shoulders like a policeman's cape. I suppose they do this to teach human beings always to take the greatest care of their best things. Well, if one of these little beetles gets into your eye, and you have no companion b you to remove it with the corner of a handkerchief, gentle rubbing of the eyelid in one direction will bring it to the inner corner of the eye, from which the finger alone will be able to remove it. Or if this fails, lifting up one eyelid so as to get the other under it to sweep it will usually be effectual, but no harshness should be used.
Now, I know that any girl who can read this magazine is too old to be likely to amuse herself by poking peas or beans up her nostrils, but her tiny brother or sister may, by way of gaining new experiences. When such a thing happens the foreign substance must be dislodged somehow. A pinch of snuff - it must be a very tiny one - will often be effective by causing it to be sneezed out. And there is a right way and a wrong way of giving snuff to a child with this end in view. For the snuff must be drawn in very gently, else the pea itself may be sent further in, as, before sneezing, the breath is drawn in; you must hold the child's nose momentarily in order that he may take in his breath only by the mouth. Well, if this fails, you should take the child on your knee, lay him on his back, hold the nose above the pea to prevent it from getting farther back, and with the point of a bodkin slightly bent, you must get it under the object, and try to hook it out. If you fail, medical assistance must be had recourse to.
When a pea gets into the ear, the bent end of a hair-pin may be used to dislodge it, or a stream or water thrown in with a syringe to float it out. The ear may also be syringed to get rid of a fly or earwig, the annoyance from which, if lodged in the ear, is most distressing, not to say alarming. But olive oil had better be dropped into the ear first; this will kill the insect, and very likely also dislodge it.
When a ring cannot be removed from the finger, it is just as much matter out of place as a pea in the nose or fly in the eye or ear. It is apt, too, to give rise to much pain and swelling. When you have tried in vain to remove the ring from your oiled or well-soaped finger, give up any further exertion for an hour or two, then after placing the hand in the coldest water for a minute or two and wiping it dry, take a long and fine thread and roll it tightly and closely round all the finger in front of the offending ring, beginning at the extreme tip, and as soon as you reach the ring, slip the end through beneath, and endeavour to work it gradually off. Failing this, it must be filed off, and this a surgeon must do.
The accident which is generally designated by the name of sprain or strain, is simply a stretching or wrenching of one of the tendons near a joint, or it may be even the laceration of one of the ligaments of the joint. There is usually much pain or tenderness and swelling. A very bad sprain may require the application of leeches to subdue the swelling. An ordinary sprain should be gently rubbed - remembering the rubbing must not cause much pain, no "thumbing" should be permitted - it should, I say, be gently rubbed with some such stimulating embrocation as opodeldoc, and then swathed in a flannel bandage, or hot fomentations may be necessary to soothe the pain and allay the swelling and inflammation; this may be followed by the application of a soothing brain poultice at bedtime. Rest of the sprained joint must be carefully enjoined, if it be a foot, a knee, or ankle it ought to be raised on a pillow at night and on a chair by day; if it be the wrist or hand it should be carried in a sling. Make no attempt to use the sprained joint until all the pain is gone, and even then you must be careful. The stiffness which often remains, accompanied sometimes with swelling, is best removed by salt water douches, or by pouring cold water from a height on the part.
When the pain from a sprain is very severe, great relief is obtained from the laudanum fomentation. An ordinary fomentation means the application of flannels wrung as hot as the hands will bear it; a laudanum fomentation is made by simply pouring a teaspoonful or two of tincture of opium on the flannel before it is applied. The mustard fomentation is used to the chest when during a cold the cough gives much pain. Here the flannels are wrung out of water in which two or three good handfuls of mustard have been mixed. It reddens the skin and gives much relief. The turpentine fomentation is also a good one in the same kind of cases; a tablespoonful of turpentine is poured upon the heated flannel and the chest well rubbed with it, or it may be simply laid upon the chest and changed for another hot flannel as soon as it begins to cool down.
Scratches from cats are not poisonous, only they seldom heal very kindly, because, like a cut with a rusty nail, they leave a ragged wound. They should be carefully washed to get rid of any dirt /t may lodge in them; and, if deep, bound up with a wet rag or, better still, a morsel of lint wetted in warm water with a little oiled silk placed over it. In a day or two, a simple dressing with cold cream, to exclude the air, will be all that is required.
We are very fortunate in this country in one way; our climate may well be called fickle and changeable, but we are free from the swarms of noxious insects and reptiles that make life in the tropics almost unendurable to us Europeans. We have no deadly tarantulas, no dreaded scorpions, nor six-inch-long centipedes. These creatures never creep from under our pillows; nor, while walking in our gardens, do venomous snakes hiss at us as they hang from the rose trees. We have, it is true, one poisonous serpent, the lovely little viper; but he seldom appears, and when he does he is far more afraid of you than you can be of him. But in summer seasons, when plums are plentiful and the farmers talk about potatoes as "a grand crop," we have in the country wasps in millions, and few escape being stung at least once before the cold weather comes on, and one ought to know what to do when such an accident occurs. There is no getting over the fact that certain people are more apt to be stung than others. I myself am a martyr to the playfulness of these yellow bees. I think they like to sting good people best, that is my way of looking at it; but I have some friends who permit wasps to alight upon and crawl upon their hands or faces. One day last summer I was prevailed upon by a lady relation, to allow one to alight on the back of my hand. This particular wasp just walked about the length of two of my knuckles, then he stopped as I said f some happy thought had just occurred to him. Next moment the wasp was calmly flying away through the open window, and I, the victim of misplaced confidence, was rushing frantically away for the ammonia bottle. Yes, that is the cure - ammonia, strong hartshorn; just wet the stoper of the bottle and put it on the part that has been stung. Hive bees always leave the sting, wasps only sometimes, but if they do so, it must be carefully extracted. If no hartshorn be at hand, try salt and water, or strong soda (washing soda), then rub the part with olive oil.
In wooded portions of the country, especially where the land lies low and flat, young people suffer greatly while in bed at night from the bites of gnats. These things are really second cousins to the real mosquitos, and the bite raises a swelling just as painful. Here again ammonia is the cure. I have known cases where delicate girls and children were quite fevered from the loss of rest and blood poisoning, caused by the bites of these tormenting insects. The febrile disturbance is accompanied by weakness and nervous depression; it is best relieved by the tincture of yellow bark, a small teaspoonful in water three or four times a day. Coffee also does good; it may be made in the morning and drunk cold in small quantities during the day, without either milk or sugar.
Those who walk much in grassy paddocks or orchards are often bitten by an extremely , almost invisibly, small insect called the harvest bug; touching the spot with hartshorn destroys the poison and kills the animalcule if it has burrowed. The swelling and pain occasioned by the bite is best allayed by rubbing the part with spirits of camphor.
Children sometimes, while eating fish, especially if eating hurriedly, a habit which is most prejudicial to digestion, have the misfortune to get a bone stuck in the throat. It is usually a small one, s that some attempt should be made to immediately get it down. Swallowing a morsel of bread only half chewed may do this. If not, and the bone can be seen or felt, it should be hooked out with the fingers. Choking on a piece of meat is a terrible accident. Medical aid should be at one summoned; but very often this is too late, and the victim to hurry in eating is dead ere he arrives. A smart blow or two on the back will often tend to dislodge a piece of meat or food of any kind stuck in the throat, but if any attempt at swallowing can be made, a tablespoonful of salad oil should be taken.
Talking of things sticking in the throat brings me to say a word or two about foreign bodies in other places.
In the eye, for example. While walking or riding on a summer's evening or afternoon, minute flying beetles often get into the eye. These tiny little gentlemen, as soon as the alight anywhere, immediately fold up their wings and put them away under a kind of tippet they wear over their shoulders like a policeman's cape. I suppose they do this to teach human beings always to take the greatest care of their best things. Well, if one of these little beetles gets into your eye, and you have no companion b you to remove it with the corner of a handkerchief, gentle rubbing of the eyelid in one direction will bring it to the inner corner of the eye, from which the finger alone will be able to remove it. Or if this fails, lifting up one eyelid so as to get the other under it to sweep it will usually be effectual, but no harshness should be used.
Now, I know that any girl who can read this magazine is too old to be likely to amuse herself by poking peas or beans up her nostrils, but her tiny brother or sister may, by way of gaining new experiences. When such a thing happens the foreign substance must be dislodged somehow. A pinch of snuff - it must be a very tiny one - will often be effective by causing it to be sneezed out. And there is a right way and a wrong way of giving snuff to a child with this end in view. For the snuff must be drawn in very gently, else the pea itself may be sent further in, as, before sneezing, the breath is drawn in; you must hold the child's nose momentarily in order that he may take in his breath only by the mouth. Well, if this fails, you should take the child on your knee, lay him on his back, hold the nose above the pea to prevent it from getting farther back, and with the point of a bodkin slightly bent, you must get it under the object, and try to hook it out. If you fail, medical assistance must be had recourse to.
When a pea gets into the ear, the bent end of a hair-pin may be used to dislodge it, or a stream or water thrown in with a syringe to float it out. The ear may also be syringed to get rid of a fly or earwig, the annoyance from which, if lodged in the ear, is most distressing, not to say alarming. But olive oil had better be dropped into the ear first; this will kill the insect, and very likely also dislodge it.
When a ring cannot be removed from the finger, it is just as much matter out of place as a pea in the nose or fly in the eye or ear. It is apt, too, to give rise to much pain and swelling. When you have tried in vain to remove the ring from your oiled or well-soaped finger, give up any further exertion for an hour or two, then after placing the hand in the coldest water for a minute or two and wiping it dry, take a long and fine thread and roll it tightly and closely round all the finger in front of the offending ring, beginning at the extreme tip, and as soon as you reach the ring, slip the end through beneath, and endeavour to work it gradually off. Failing this, it must be filed off, and this a surgeon must do.
The accident which is generally designated by the name of sprain or strain, is simply a stretching or wrenching of one of the tendons near a joint, or it may be even the laceration of one of the ligaments of the joint. There is usually much pain or tenderness and swelling. A very bad sprain may require the application of leeches to subdue the swelling. An ordinary sprain should be gently rubbed - remembering the rubbing must not cause much pain, no "thumbing" should be permitted - it should, I say, be gently rubbed with some such stimulating embrocation as opodeldoc, and then swathed in a flannel bandage, or hot fomentations may be necessary to soothe the pain and allay the swelling and inflammation; this may be followed by the application of a soothing brain poultice at bedtime. Rest of the sprained joint must be carefully enjoined, if it be a foot, a knee, or ankle it ought to be raised on a pillow at night and on a chair by day; if it be the wrist or hand it should be carried in a sling. Make no attempt to use the sprained joint until all the pain is gone, and even then you must be careful. The stiffness which often remains, accompanied sometimes with swelling, is best removed by salt water douches, or by pouring cold water from a height on the part.
When the pain from a sprain is very severe, great relief is obtained from the laudanum fomentation. An ordinary fomentation means the application of flannels wrung as hot as the hands will bear it; a laudanum fomentation is made by simply pouring a teaspoonful or two of tincture of opium on the flannel before it is applied. The mustard fomentation is used to the chest when during a cold the cough gives much pain. Here the flannels are wrung out of water in which two or three good handfuls of mustard have been mixed. It reddens the skin and gives much relief. The turpentine fomentation is also a good one in the same kind of cases; a tablespoonful of turpentine is poured upon the heated flannel and the chest well rubbed with it, or it may be simply laid upon the chest and changed for another hot flannel as soon as it begins to cool down.
Saturday, 10 September 2016
15 January 1881 - 'Some Useful Hints on Surgery' by Medicus
When I was a little boy at my first school the Bible was one of our text-books. It was the first history ever I had read, and I was naturally much interested in its heroes and heroines. David, I know, seemed to my mind just the beau-ideal of all a boy should be, and when I read of the brave and undaunted manner in which he attacked and slew Goliath, I determined to emulate him, at least, so far as the sling and the stone went, and I succeeded so well that in three weeks after I first commenced practice, I smashed my poor sister's arm. Of course, I was not aiming at Nellie, and the greater the pity, because I never did hit anything that I aimed at. On this particular occasion I was aiming at a farmer's ox in a distant field; this was very wicked, but when I saw Nellie drop down and faint with the pain, I thought she was dead, and wrung my hands and wept aloud and danced frantically around her. This probably relieved my own feelings, but it could not have done Nellie much good, and had I known then only a very little of what I know now, I would have acted differently. But what *I did then is just precisely what nine out of every ten young people do daily, when an accident occurs to a brother, sister, or playmate. To render assistance promptly hardly ever occurs to them.
"Oh! But," some of my readers may exclaim, "we don't know what to do in cases of emergency."
You are quite right; and therefore I am going to tell you in this paper and in the next what is the best and safest way to deal with little accidents, and I am quite sure you will listen to what I have to say with pleasure and derive some profit therefrom as well.
Now the most alarming of all little accidents, in the eyes of young folks, are those that are accompanied by the effusion of blood, so I will take them first. The simplest of these is bleeding at the nose. Sometimes, in the case of stout, rosy-faced children, this is salutary, but it proves that they are making blood too quickly, that they are in reality not strong, so the general health should be seen to, and plenty of exercise taken. As to medicine, laxatives should be given and some simple tonic. When bleeding at the nose occurs from a blow, or if it be excessive from whatever cause, means must be taken to stop it. The sufferer must not remain in a warm room; going out into the cool fresh air will often of itself suffice to stop the bleeding. If it does not, then the nose and brow ought to be bathed in the coldest water procurable. The upright position should be maintained, the head thrown well back, the arms raised, and either ice or a cold piece of iron or steel applied to the spine.
Cuts or wounds, as a rule, require very simple treatment. First and foremost, do not be alarmed at the sight of a little blood; there is no danger, unless it be of a very bright red colour and spurts out in jets; that would show that an artery has been cut; but even then you must not give way to fear. All you have to do is apply pressure on the wound by means of your thumbs, and send for a medical man or surgeon. If a simple cut or wound is torn and lacerated, it must be washed with cold water and a bit of sponge before it is done up, and if any dirt or foreign matter such as sand or glass be seen in it, that must be very carefully removed; then cut two or three pieces of sticking plaster, about as long as your little finger, and no wider, heat them one by one before the fire, and one by one apply them over the wound, just to keep the edges gently together. After you have applied one, you must not put the next close to it; you have to leave room between every piece, for any matter that may form, too afterwards find vent. Apply over this a little lint, made by stretching a piece of old, cleanly washed linen tight, and scraping it with a knife; over all a bandage must be put, and you must keep a wound like this clean, but do not disturb the dressing room more than is actually required. If it seems angry, a bit of clean surgeon's lint dipped in water, with a piece of oiled silk over it, makes a very soothing dressing. A simple even cut may be bound up with the blood, which, by keeping the air from it, hermetically seals it, and it will heal thus without further trouble.
A bitten tongue often bleeds profusely, and gives a great pain. Wash the mouth with the coldest water, in which some powdered alum has been mixed, and continue doing so until the bleeding stops.
When the skin has been torn off or grazed off any part of the hands, arms, or legs, the bleeding is sometimes difficult to stop. Cold water may be sufficient to do this, if not, tincture of iron should be applied. This tincture of iron is the same tonic (called steel drops) which I so often recommend pale and delicate girls to use, in the proportion of ten to fifteen drops three times a day in a little cold water. So you see it is a handy thing to have in the house for more reasons than one. Scalp-wounds, or wounds in the head, require somewhat different treatment. If in the forehead, the usual sticking plaster dressing and a bandage will suffice to mend matters; if in the scalp among the hair, the latter must be cut off all around the wound to admit of the application of the plaster; the bleeding in either case must be stopped by pressure, cold water or ice.
The youngest of my readers should know how to treat simple scalds and burns, for, small though they may be, they are exceedingly painful, and it is a gaining of half the battle if you can give relief. A burn or scald in the hands, or wrist, or fingers, if the skin be not blistered or broken, is relieved in a surprisingly short time by the application of a rag or morsel of lint wetted in turpentine. Soap applied to a slight burn is likewise a good application to remove pain. Water-dressing is also effective, and after the pain has been removed, the place may be dressed with simple ointment, cold cream, or glycerine. Another excellent application to a burned surface is what is called "carron oil," it is composed of equal parts lime water and olive oil, with a small quantity of turpentine. In all cases of severe burning medical aid should be summoned as soon as possible.
If a child's clothes catch fire, she ought to be thrown down at once, and a heart-rug, blanket, or whatever comes handiest, rolled around her to extinguish the flames. When anyone has the misfortune to catch fire, she ought at once to throw herself on the floor and roll about; if this plan be resorted to, the fire cannot spread upwards over the head, and life may be saved, to say nothing of terrible deformity.
Children sometimes swallow boiling water, from a kettle for instance. In a case of this kind all you can do is to keep the sufferer perfectly quiet, and give him ice to suck if you can procure any, and meanwhile send at once for a surgeon.
Bruises are the result of direct violence; in these cases, although no bones are broken and the skin is left intact, the small veins in the flesh are lacerated and blood thrown out under the skin, discolouration being the result. A black-eye is one of the simplest examples of a bruise, and probably one of the commonest; a blow on the forehead from running against something hard is another; and both, simple though I call them, are very disfiguring especially in a young girl. When, then, anyone receives a blow which she is afraid may lead to discolouration of the skin, either arnica lotion or spirit lotion should be applied immediately and constantly for some considerable time. The arnica lotion is easily made; it is simply a tablespoonful of tincture of arnica in a small tumblerful of water; it is a useful application to sprains as well. Vinegar and water is also a very cooling lotion, in the proportion of one part of the former to three of the latter.
A jammed finger is a most painful accident. Steeping the finger in very hot water is the most effectual method of giving relief. I may mention here that an incipient whitlow may sometimes be dispersed in the same way, provided matter has not already formed; but when once this begins to burrow under the tendons poultices and free lancing will bring the first relief.
A blister of the skin, whether in the foot or hand, seems a very simple thing indeed. Yet nine persons out of every ten do not know how properly to treat it. It may be caused by friction of any kind - friction from a tight or too loose fitting shoe, or friction of the hand from rowing, drilling, or using tools of any kind. The first thing to do is to pass a needle with a loose cotton thread through it. Cut off this thread at each side of the blister, and thus allow the water to run or drain out of the bleb; it will afterwards heal up nicely, but rest must be given. Now I do not know that any young lady wants to harden her hands, even for the sake of drilling; for a soft hand is certainly a point of beauty in a girl. But if, notwithstanding this, she objects to have hands easily blistered let her bathe them morning and night for ten minutes in a quart of soft spring water, in which a little toilet vinegar and a teaspoonful of alum have been mixed. This bath also does good in cases of clammy hands; but, mind you, I am not putting it forward as a specific, either for clamminess or blisters, but I do happen to know that it often does good.
Blisters, or blebs, that contain blood may occur on the legs or arms; they are not due to friction, but on the other hand, they point to a vitiated state of the blood, and the remedies for them should be internal or constitutional ones. The blood is impoverished, and the steel-drop tonic will do good. Plenty of milk is almost a certain remedy, but it must be new milk and, if possible, drunk fresh and warm from the cow. Exercise in the open air will provoke an appetite and enable the girl who suffers from these signs of impoverished blood to eat well and heartily, which is exactly what nature displays those blisters to entice her to do. They are to be looked upon as small flags of distress.
Boils are also a sign of impure and impoverished blood. Some girls constantly suffer from them, crop after crop appearing and causing great distress, because they are not only disfiguring, especially if in the face, but very painful as well. These boils also point to a state of the blood which sadly needs reform; indeed, the general health of girls who suffer in this way is at a very low ebb. Everything, then, should be done that tends to increase the strength and purify the blood. Simple laxatives, such as cream of tartar or Gregory's powder, should be taken twice or thrice a week. The digestion should be carefully attended to, nothing being eaten that is in the least likely to disagree, and not too much of anything eaten at one time. Exercise in the open air should be abundant, but not fatiguing, and the soap bath taken nearly every day. (I have already described the method of taking the bath in THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER.) Tonic medicines should be taken also, say a teaspoonful or more of quinine wine three times a day, and ten drops of the tincture of iron.
Touching the little boils three or four times a day with a drop or two of Goulard water, and suffering it to dry on, may tend to keep them back, or hot water may be tried.
A style is simply a small painful boil on the eyelid; it should be bathed three or four times a day with warm milk and water, and a poultice applied at night. As soon as it points, great relief will be gained by pricking it with a fine but perfectly new sewing needle.
"Oh! But," some of my readers may exclaim, "we don't know what to do in cases of emergency."
You are quite right; and therefore I am going to tell you in this paper and in the next what is the best and safest way to deal with little accidents, and I am quite sure you will listen to what I have to say with pleasure and derive some profit therefrom as well.
Now the most alarming of all little accidents, in the eyes of young folks, are those that are accompanied by the effusion of blood, so I will take them first. The simplest of these is bleeding at the nose. Sometimes, in the case of stout, rosy-faced children, this is salutary, but it proves that they are making blood too quickly, that they are in reality not strong, so the general health should be seen to, and plenty of exercise taken. As to medicine, laxatives should be given and some simple tonic. When bleeding at the nose occurs from a blow, or if it be excessive from whatever cause, means must be taken to stop it. The sufferer must not remain in a warm room; going out into the cool fresh air will often of itself suffice to stop the bleeding. If it does not, then the nose and brow ought to be bathed in the coldest water procurable. The upright position should be maintained, the head thrown well back, the arms raised, and either ice or a cold piece of iron or steel applied to the spine.
Cuts or wounds, as a rule, require very simple treatment. First and foremost, do not be alarmed at the sight of a little blood; there is no danger, unless it be of a very bright red colour and spurts out in jets; that would show that an artery has been cut; but even then you must not give way to fear. All you have to do is apply pressure on the wound by means of your thumbs, and send for a medical man or surgeon. If a simple cut or wound is torn and lacerated, it must be washed with cold water and a bit of sponge before it is done up, and if any dirt or foreign matter such as sand or glass be seen in it, that must be very carefully removed; then cut two or three pieces of sticking plaster, about as long as your little finger, and no wider, heat them one by one before the fire, and one by one apply them over the wound, just to keep the edges gently together. After you have applied one, you must not put the next close to it; you have to leave room between every piece, for any matter that may form, too afterwards find vent. Apply over this a little lint, made by stretching a piece of old, cleanly washed linen tight, and scraping it with a knife; over all a bandage must be put, and you must keep a wound like this clean, but do not disturb the dressing room more than is actually required. If it seems angry, a bit of clean surgeon's lint dipped in water, with a piece of oiled silk over it, makes a very soothing dressing. A simple even cut may be bound up with the blood, which, by keeping the air from it, hermetically seals it, and it will heal thus without further trouble.
A bitten tongue often bleeds profusely, and gives a great pain. Wash the mouth with the coldest water, in which some powdered alum has been mixed, and continue doing so until the bleeding stops.
When the skin has been torn off or grazed off any part of the hands, arms, or legs, the bleeding is sometimes difficult to stop. Cold water may be sufficient to do this, if not, tincture of iron should be applied. This tincture of iron is the same tonic (called steel drops) which I so often recommend pale and delicate girls to use, in the proportion of ten to fifteen drops three times a day in a little cold water. So you see it is a handy thing to have in the house for more reasons than one. Scalp-wounds, or wounds in the head, require somewhat different treatment. If in the forehead, the usual sticking plaster dressing and a bandage will suffice to mend matters; if in the scalp among the hair, the latter must be cut off all around the wound to admit of the application of the plaster; the bleeding in either case must be stopped by pressure, cold water or ice.
The youngest of my readers should know how to treat simple scalds and burns, for, small though they may be, they are exceedingly painful, and it is a gaining of half the battle if you can give relief. A burn or scald in the hands, or wrist, or fingers, if the skin be not blistered or broken, is relieved in a surprisingly short time by the application of a rag or morsel of lint wetted in turpentine. Soap applied to a slight burn is likewise a good application to remove pain. Water-dressing is also effective, and after the pain has been removed, the place may be dressed with simple ointment, cold cream, or glycerine. Another excellent application to a burned surface is what is called "carron oil," it is composed of equal parts lime water and olive oil, with a small quantity of turpentine. In all cases of severe burning medical aid should be summoned as soon as possible.
If a child's clothes catch fire, she ought to be thrown down at once, and a heart-rug, blanket, or whatever comes handiest, rolled around her to extinguish the flames. When anyone has the misfortune to catch fire, she ought at once to throw herself on the floor and roll about; if this plan be resorted to, the fire cannot spread upwards over the head, and life may be saved, to say nothing of terrible deformity.
Children sometimes swallow boiling water, from a kettle for instance. In a case of this kind all you can do is to keep the sufferer perfectly quiet, and give him ice to suck if you can procure any, and meanwhile send at once for a surgeon.
Bruises are the result of direct violence; in these cases, although no bones are broken and the skin is left intact, the small veins in the flesh are lacerated and blood thrown out under the skin, discolouration being the result. A black-eye is one of the simplest examples of a bruise, and probably one of the commonest; a blow on the forehead from running against something hard is another; and both, simple though I call them, are very disfiguring especially in a young girl. When, then, anyone receives a blow which she is afraid may lead to discolouration of the skin, either arnica lotion or spirit lotion should be applied immediately and constantly for some considerable time. The arnica lotion is easily made; it is simply a tablespoonful of tincture of arnica in a small tumblerful of water; it is a useful application to sprains as well. Vinegar and water is also a very cooling lotion, in the proportion of one part of the former to three of the latter.
A jammed finger is a most painful accident. Steeping the finger in very hot water is the most effectual method of giving relief. I may mention here that an incipient whitlow may sometimes be dispersed in the same way, provided matter has not already formed; but when once this begins to burrow under the tendons poultices and free lancing will bring the first relief.
A blister of the skin, whether in the foot or hand, seems a very simple thing indeed. Yet nine persons out of every ten do not know how properly to treat it. It may be caused by friction of any kind - friction from a tight or too loose fitting shoe, or friction of the hand from rowing, drilling, or using tools of any kind. The first thing to do is to pass a needle with a loose cotton thread through it. Cut off this thread at each side of the blister, and thus allow the water to run or drain out of the bleb; it will afterwards heal up nicely, but rest must be given. Now I do not know that any young lady wants to harden her hands, even for the sake of drilling; for a soft hand is certainly a point of beauty in a girl. But if, notwithstanding this, she objects to have hands easily blistered let her bathe them morning and night for ten minutes in a quart of soft spring water, in which a little toilet vinegar and a teaspoonful of alum have been mixed. This bath also does good in cases of clammy hands; but, mind you, I am not putting it forward as a specific, either for clamminess or blisters, but I do happen to know that it often does good.
Blisters, or blebs, that contain blood may occur on the legs or arms; they are not due to friction, but on the other hand, they point to a vitiated state of the blood, and the remedies for them should be internal or constitutional ones. The blood is impoverished, and the steel-drop tonic will do good. Plenty of milk is almost a certain remedy, but it must be new milk and, if possible, drunk fresh and warm from the cow. Exercise in the open air will provoke an appetite and enable the girl who suffers from these signs of impoverished blood to eat well and heartily, which is exactly what nature displays those blisters to entice her to do. They are to be looked upon as small flags of distress.
Boils are also a sign of impure and impoverished blood. Some girls constantly suffer from them, crop after crop appearing and causing great distress, because they are not only disfiguring, especially if in the face, but very painful as well. These boils also point to a state of the blood which sadly needs reform; indeed, the general health of girls who suffer in this way is at a very low ebb. Everything, then, should be done that tends to increase the strength and purify the blood. Simple laxatives, such as cream of tartar or Gregory's powder, should be taken twice or thrice a week. The digestion should be carefully attended to, nothing being eaten that is in the least likely to disagree, and not too much of anything eaten at one time. Exercise in the open air should be abundant, but not fatiguing, and the soap bath taken nearly every day. (I have already described the method of taking the bath in THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER.) Tonic medicines should be taken also, say a teaspoonful or more of quinine wine three times a day, and ten drops of the tincture of iron.
Touching the little boils three or four times a day with a drop or two of Goulard water, and suffering it to dry on, may tend to keep them back, or hot water may be tried.
A style is simply a small painful boil on the eyelid; it should be bathed three or four times a day with warm milk and water, and a poultice applied at night. As soon as it points, great relief will be gained by pricking it with a fine but perfectly new sewing needle.
Saturday, 21 May 2016
17 July 1880 - 'What Our Girls May Do' by Alice King
You may do anything that is good and proper and useful - except anything that men do, that would be wrong.
We do not want to say what our girls may not do, because "may not" has a sound of the schoolroom about it which would take away from the pleasant freedom of the little chat we mean to have with our girls today. That our talk together may be more cheery and hearty we will ask our girls to fancy themselves sitting with us around the Christmas fire, with the frosty air outside filled with the glitter of stars and the melody of bells; or wandering through the summer woods, with their hands filled with honeysuckle and yellow pimpernel and musk-scented stork's-bill, with bird and brook making fair harmony hard by.
In the first place, our girls may try to do anything which is useful. They love to play at being useful from the time when they can first toddle, and they may begin to do it in earnest as soon as ever they are able. But how can we be useful, they will ask? They can begin very early to do a deal of good in their families by influencing their younger brothers and sisters, by keeping the rough word off the little boy's lips, by showing the tiny maiden that to be a Christian girl means to be as bright as the flowers, as full of their sweetness that spreads perfume round; is to be as pure as the dewdrop, as blithe as the skylark's song. The little ones are far more free n talk and manner with you than they are with elder people, and so you have opportunities with them which do not belong even to their mothers.
Our girls may also do much in the way of influencing their schoolboy brothers, and instilling into them reverence for womanhood. Girls are too much inclined to look upon it as a merit to give themselves up patiently to be teased by their brothers. Far from this, they should show them that even the sweetest tempered girl has a touch of queenliness about her, which demands a certain degree of careful, tender respect from men, which forbids rude acts and words in her presence. Thus will our lads learn early from their sisters the meaning of chivalry, and every woman whom they shall meet in their life's journey will bless those sisters for what they did long ago.
There is good work at home for our girls in giving a high, right tone of thought and feeling to young female servants. Girls, perhaps, are not aware how much their dress and manners form the dress and manners of the servants' hall and kitchen; and there is no truer saying than that servants grow like their mistresses. They should, therefore, endeavour to show any girls of a lower social rank than their own what is the meaning of modest grace, of Christian womanliness. They should seek to make them feel that they are their friends, and to win their confidence, so that they will tell them all their little troubles and difficulties, and let themselves be helped by the young ladies' superior intelligence and education. They should provide, as far as they can, rational amusements for them; they should send or take them to places of interest, Bible classes, and sewing parties.
A wide and beautiful field of work and influence opens before our girls as we take them to the doors of our Sunday-schools and bid them enter there. Here is a task that angels smile to look upon. Here is a garden in which seeds may be planted that will bring forth flower and fruit - first for man below, then for heaven above. Here are earnest young faces, who will catch their first ray of God's light from their teacher's eyes; and our girls, with their bright looks and pretty winning ways, are so much more able and likely to attract children than graver and older folks; their young fancies will find such congenial exercise in weaving Bible stories into word-pictures for the little ones to gaze at and learn from; their fresh, brave, living courage will break down barriers of dullness, and make its way into sluggish brains, where other and more jaded teachers would fail. Yes, our girls are the God-appointed teachers of our English Sunday-schools.
This work of Sunday-school teaching may lead on our girls as they grow older, and, if they feel that they have real talent and love for the business, to yet a broader and higher sphere of influence in keeping adult classes for men and women. What a light and a sweetness come into the daily life of mothers and maidens who are toiling along bearing a heavy burden made up of small pressing household cares and wants, when a sister, from a different station from their own, steps down to walk for a while at their side to cheer them with glance and word of sympathy.
The men, too, when they gather round their lady teacher, what refinement do they draw from mere contact with her gentle voice and manners - refinement that gradually colours their home lives, their intercourse with sweethearts and wives and daughters. How do they gradually learn to yield to her soft but queenly influence, and to be ashamed of coarse vices when they enter her presence. How ready do they grow to listen while she shows them the upward way - to follow her kindly yet steadfast leading. If our girls want work that will call out every noblest most earnest faculty of heart and soul, let them strive to train themselves for work like this.
We have dwelt thus on what our girls may do in different ways in the matter of influence, because in these days, when there is so much said and written about what women may and may not do, we do not think that our young ladies are sufficiently shown the beauty and the importance of what is woman's highest earthly mission - the mission of influence.
Sweet English girls, as you go forward in life never forget or waste this mighty power which lies in your hands, but hold and prize it as a solemn, precious trust from God; and use it so that one day your ears may hear with joy the blessed words, "Well done, good and faithful servants."
With regard to learning language, music, and drawing, we would tell our girls that they may most decidedly do any of these things if they have a talent for them, but that if they have no talent they had just as decidedly better leave them untried. There exists a sort of traditional belief in many respectable English families that all daughters of the house must be taught to play on the piano. We would advise our girls resolutely to strive to break down this notion; for by so doing they will spare the ears of friends and guests a deal of unmerited suffering, and will save for themselves much valuable time, which they can employ in things that they can really do with will and pleasure.
And we would strongly caution our girls against learning too many things at once, as a quick, vivid young female mind is always too apt to try to do; they should recollect that the concentration of every faculty on one point has been the chief secret of all the greatest and best work that has been done in the world; that we make much more mark in society by doing one thing well than twenty things tolerably.
In these days, when literary work is so readily given to women, our girls may try their hand at composition in prose or verse, if they have a real talent for either; but we would emphasise that *if most strongly. We would caution our girls to be very severe with themselves on this point; for in the matter of authorship, nothing is easier than to fancy, especially if our minds are young and ardent, that our bits of coloured glass are real jewels. The path of literature is often at first an uphill, weary path, even for genius; and we would most earnestly warn our dear girls, as they value their own happiness, unless they are very sure that they have a decided call in a gift given by God for treading it, to pause before they enter upon it.
To go from intellectual work to work with the hands, needlework is a thing which every girl ought to do, and which never ought to be left out of female education. As for fancy work, that may be done by a girl in her hours of amusement if she does not waste too much time over it. In fancy work we do not of course include the beautiful art needlework of the present day, which needs just as much a special talent in those who undertake it as painting or music.
Our girls may do a deal of fair and excellent work for both God and man in visiting the sick and poor and aged. It will bring their sweet young lives into contact with gloom and sadness; but they may go fearlessly into those dark places, since Christian girls will carry with them there a lamp lit at the flame of the "Light of the world." Let them take their Bibles in their hands; let them speak boldly out of the words of eternal life in the homes of want and disease; let them add a few simple drops of sympathy that fall from their warm young hearts; and for those they seek to comfort and for themselves "it shall be well." Work of this sort may also lead them on in after life, if they form no close ties, and if they have a real gift for the task, to become sick nurses - a branch of female duty in which women with cultivated minds and soft ladies' hands and delicate ladies' tact are so needed.
If a girl has a liking for cookery she will be putting herself in the way of doing probable good work in her future by attending classes on the subject, and trying little experiments at home. In such interests there is nothing beneath the dignity of a lady; the woman who thinks there is must have more foolish pride in her than good sense. Health, and especially the health of men of sedentary employments, depends in a great measure, on the way in which food is prepared; women should remember that the preservation of health is no mean object. If it is to be a girl's fate to be the mistress of a family, where there is only a limited income, skill in cookery may prove a real blessing to all around her.
In conclusion, we would say to our girls one earnest warning word about what they may not do. They may not do any of those things which make them imitators of men; they may not try to break down the God-appointed fence which divides their departments in the world's great workshop from the departments of men; by so doing they only lose their own queenliness without gaining a single ray of male royalty in its place. Let our girls aim at being nothing but women - noble, brave, broad-hearted women - active alike with mind and hands; strong, earnest workers for God and man, and theirs shall be a fair and radiant story, that shall grow ever brighter and yet more bright.
We do not want to say what our girls may not do, because "may not" has a sound of the schoolroom about it which would take away from the pleasant freedom of the little chat we mean to have with our girls today. That our talk together may be more cheery and hearty we will ask our girls to fancy themselves sitting with us around the Christmas fire, with the frosty air outside filled with the glitter of stars and the melody of bells; or wandering through the summer woods, with their hands filled with honeysuckle and yellow pimpernel and musk-scented stork's-bill, with bird and brook making fair harmony hard by.
In the first place, our girls may try to do anything which is useful. They love to play at being useful from the time when they can first toddle, and they may begin to do it in earnest as soon as ever they are able. But how can we be useful, they will ask? They can begin very early to do a deal of good in their families by influencing their younger brothers and sisters, by keeping the rough word off the little boy's lips, by showing the tiny maiden that to be a Christian girl means to be as bright as the flowers, as full of their sweetness that spreads perfume round; is to be as pure as the dewdrop, as blithe as the skylark's song. The little ones are far more free n talk and manner with you than they are with elder people, and so you have opportunities with them which do not belong even to their mothers.
Our girls may also do much in the way of influencing their schoolboy brothers, and instilling into them reverence for womanhood. Girls are too much inclined to look upon it as a merit to give themselves up patiently to be teased by their brothers. Far from this, they should show them that even the sweetest tempered girl has a touch of queenliness about her, which demands a certain degree of careful, tender respect from men, which forbids rude acts and words in her presence. Thus will our lads learn early from their sisters the meaning of chivalry, and every woman whom they shall meet in their life's journey will bless those sisters for what they did long ago.
There is good work at home for our girls in giving a high, right tone of thought and feeling to young female servants. Girls, perhaps, are not aware how much their dress and manners form the dress and manners of the servants' hall and kitchen; and there is no truer saying than that servants grow like their mistresses. They should, therefore, endeavour to show any girls of a lower social rank than their own what is the meaning of modest grace, of Christian womanliness. They should seek to make them feel that they are their friends, and to win their confidence, so that they will tell them all their little troubles and difficulties, and let themselves be helped by the young ladies' superior intelligence and education. They should provide, as far as they can, rational amusements for them; they should send or take them to places of interest, Bible classes, and sewing parties.
A wide and beautiful field of work and influence opens before our girls as we take them to the doors of our Sunday-schools and bid them enter there. Here is a task that angels smile to look upon. Here is a garden in which seeds may be planted that will bring forth flower and fruit - first for man below, then for heaven above. Here are earnest young faces, who will catch their first ray of God's light from their teacher's eyes; and our girls, with their bright looks and pretty winning ways, are so much more able and likely to attract children than graver and older folks; their young fancies will find such congenial exercise in weaving Bible stories into word-pictures for the little ones to gaze at and learn from; their fresh, brave, living courage will break down barriers of dullness, and make its way into sluggish brains, where other and more jaded teachers would fail. Yes, our girls are the God-appointed teachers of our English Sunday-schools.
This work of Sunday-school teaching may lead on our girls as they grow older, and, if they feel that they have real talent and love for the business, to yet a broader and higher sphere of influence in keeping adult classes for men and women. What a light and a sweetness come into the daily life of mothers and maidens who are toiling along bearing a heavy burden made up of small pressing household cares and wants, when a sister, from a different station from their own, steps down to walk for a while at their side to cheer them with glance and word of sympathy.
The men, too, when they gather round their lady teacher, what refinement do they draw from mere contact with her gentle voice and manners - refinement that gradually colours their home lives, their intercourse with sweethearts and wives and daughters. How do they gradually learn to yield to her soft but queenly influence, and to be ashamed of coarse vices when they enter her presence. How ready do they grow to listen while she shows them the upward way - to follow her kindly yet steadfast leading. If our girls want work that will call out every noblest most earnest faculty of heart and soul, let them strive to train themselves for work like this.
We have dwelt thus on what our girls may do in different ways in the matter of influence, because in these days, when there is so much said and written about what women may and may not do, we do not think that our young ladies are sufficiently shown the beauty and the importance of what is woman's highest earthly mission - the mission of influence.
Sweet English girls, as you go forward in life never forget or waste this mighty power which lies in your hands, but hold and prize it as a solemn, precious trust from God; and use it so that one day your ears may hear with joy the blessed words, "Well done, good and faithful servants."
With regard to learning language, music, and drawing, we would tell our girls that they may most decidedly do any of these things if they have a talent for them, but that if they have no talent they had just as decidedly better leave them untried. There exists a sort of traditional belief in many respectable English families that all daughters of the house must be taught to play on the piano. We would advise our girls resolutely to strive to break down this notion; for by so doing they will spare the ears of friends and guests a deal of unmerited suffering, and will save for themselves much valuable time, which they can employ in things that they can really do with will and pleasure.
And we would strongly caution our girls against learning too many things at once, as a quick, vivid young female mind is always too apt to try to do; they should recollect that the concentration of every faculty on one point has been the chief secret of all the greatest and best work that has been done in the world; that we make much more mark in society by doing one thing well than twenty things tolerably.
In these days, when literary work is so readily given to women, our girls may try their hand at composition in prose or verse, if they have a real talent for either; but we would emphasise that *if most strongly. We would caution our girls to be very severe with themselves on this point; for in the matter of authorship, nothing is easier than to fancy, especially if our minds are young and ardent, that our bits of coloured glass are real jewels. The path of literature is often at first an uphill, weary path, even for genius; and we would most earnestly warn our dear girls, as they value their own happiness, unless they are very sure that they have a decided call in a gift given by God for treading it, to pause before they enter upon it.
To go from intellectual work to work with the hands, needlework is a thing which every girl ought to do, and which never ought to be left out of female education. As for fancy work, that may be done by a girl in her hours of amusement if she does not waste too much time over it. In fancy work we do not of course include the beautiful art needlework of the present day, which needs just as much a special talent in those who undertake it as painting or music.
Our girls may do a deal of fair and excellent work for both God and man in visiting the sick and poor and aged. It will bring their sweet young lives into contact with gloom and sadness; but they may go fearlessly into those dark places, since Christian girls will carry with them there a lamp lit at the flame of the "Light of the world." Let them take their Bibles in their hands; let them speak boldly out of the words of eternal life in the homes of want and disease; let them add a few simple drops of sympathy that fall from their warm young hearts; and for those they seek to comfort and for themselves "it shall be well." Work of this sort may also lead them on in after life, if they form no close ties, and if they have a real gift for the task, to become sick nurses - a branch of female duty in which women with cultivated minds and soft ladies' hands and delicate ladies' tact are so needed.
If a girl has a liking for cookery she will be putting herself in the way of doing probable good work in her future by attending classes on the subject, and trying little experiments at home. In such interests there is nothing beneath the dignity of a lady; the woman who thinks there is must have more foolish pride in her than good sense. Health, and especially the health of men of sedentary employments, depends in a great measure, on the way in which food is prepared; women should remember that the preservation of health is no mean object. If it is to be a girl's fate to be the mistress of a family, where there is only a limited income, skill in cookery may prove a real blessing to all around her.
In conclusion, we would say to our girls one earnest warning word about what they may not do. They may not do any of those things which make them imitators of men; they may not try to break down the God-appointed fence which divides their departments in the world's great workshop from the departments of men; by so doing they only lose their own queenliness without gaining a single ray of male royalty in its place. Let our girls aim at being nothing but women - noble, brave, broad-hearted women - active alike with mind and hands; strong, earnest workers for God and man, and theirs shall be a fair and radiant story, that shall grow ever brighter and yet more bright.
Saturday, 30 April 2016
5 June 1880 - 'Sunday School Treats'
Who that has had anything to do with the management of Sunday schools cannot recall some protracted teachers' meeting convened at the beginning of summer to discuss the plans for the children's summer treat? First there is generally a warm discussion as to whether they shall have a treat in the summer at all, or whether an entertainment in the winter would not be better; but when everyone else is thinking of their approaching holidays, it seems hard that the poor little children, particularly those in the back slums of our large towns, should not have one day's enjoyment of the fresh pure country air.
We think a change of air once a year to the country or seaside almost a necessity to the children of the higher classes, but hundreds of poor little creatures, cooped up all the year round in close rooms and narrow alleys, would never have a change of air, nor see the fields and lanes of the country at all, but for the annual excursions which have now become so general in all Sunday and ragged schools.
For children living in the country, who have plenty of fresh air all the year round, and a far larger share of healthy play than falls to the lot of the little ones in towns, there is much to be said in favour of winter treats instead of summer excursions. Being held in the schoolroom, there is not the fear that a storm of rain will damp the children's spirits and spoil their best clothing, and the anxious and responsible teachers are not kept in a constant panic by rumours that a boy has fallen into the river, or a girl is lost in the wood; and last, but by no means least, it is considerably less expensive. But, on the other hand, a very strong argument for the excursions in the summer is that they afford a great, often the only, opportunity for a teacher to become on a friendly footing with the scholars. The lower classes of scholars are too apt to look upon their teachers, either secular or religious, as their natural enemies, only one grade less obnoxious than the policeman, and these holidays give us an opportunity of showing them, by entering heartily into their happiness, that we are their friends as well as their teachers; and, indeed, that religion, of which we are in their eyes the representatives, makes us better able to sympathise with others in everything, their enjoyments as well as their troubles.
In most schools the discussion ends in favour of the summer holiday, and if this conclusion is come to, the next question to be decided is "Where shall we go to?" the details and minor arrangements being usually left to a select committee.
It has been said that if Rome had been built by a committee it never would have become the mistress of the world, and happy the school which has one competent person who will undertake all the arrangements and so dispense with the endless discussion of a committee meeting.
But to return to the question of a desirable spot for the excursion. This is generally a very knotty point, and a unanimous verdict in favour of any one place is as difficult to arrive at as though it were left to the decision of twelve stubborn jurymen. One timorous person puts his veto upon a lace, perfect in other respects, because it is too near the river, and children seem to make a point of getting drowned if within a mile of water. Another has a ghastly tale of tell of youthful scholars, decoyed away by gipsies, when it is proposed to pitch their camp for the occasion in a wood.
In choosing a suitable place the distance should always be considered, as the cost of conveyance is a serious matter to a poor school. Except in large towns, it is seldom necessary to travel far; the convenience of the place is the chief thing to be considered in the selection, for beauty and scenery are not so much the attraction to the children as the novelty of a picnic out of doors and of having a whole day with nothing to do but play. Nothing can be better than a large field, particularly if it contains a few trees, to which swings can be attached; for though in a limited space like a field it is necessary to provide more amusements, the extra trouble is more than compensated for by the comfort of knowing that all the children are safely under your eye and not getting into any of the mischief which children are so expert in finding out. Failing a regular field, we might put up with a common, or wood, or any private park which is open for parties.
One important consideration which must not be overlooked is the chance of obtaining shelter in case of rain. No one who has not suffered it can fully sympathise with the despair a teacher feels who has no means of sheltering the children, on seeing them huddled together during a heavy storm, like a flock of sheep, and looking very minute more wet through and miserable. One experience of this kind is generally quite enough to prevent its recurrence. It is most important that the superintendent, or some other competent person, should visit the place first to ascertain that there is a barn or room that can be used if required. If there is no such accommodation to be had, the best plan is to hire one or more large tents, the comfort of which will be found quite worth the outlay, and as the owner will always send men to put up and remove them, they are no trouble.
In the country, when a field can be had for the purpose close at hand, the greatest difficulty of these summer treats, that of conveying the children to their destination, is avoided, an advantage which country teachers cannot too highly appreciate. Comparatively few schools, however, are so fortunate; but there are contractors to be found in nearly all towns who will provide covered vans at a moderate cost, and most of the railway companies make special arrangements to convey schools at less than half price, so that the travelling expenses need not be so large as is generally imagined. The trouble and anxiety is a much more serious consideration, though if the teachers will all come forward t do their part even that is a very trifling matter.
It is generally arranged to meet at the schoolroom, when the children are divided into small parties, each party being assigned to the care of a teacher, who undertakes to see that they neither get into a wrong train nor are left behind altogether. This arrangement saves the superintendent a great deal of anxiety, and, indeed, if going by train, is almost a sine qua non.
And now, having reached our destination, how are we to amuse our young guests? As usual, the boys are most troublesome to cater for; but we generally succeed in making them very happy by providing some cricket-sets, a large ball for football (the goals have to be improvised on the spot), some bats for rounders, and any other games after which boy-nature is supposed to hanker. The number of each provided depends, of course, upon the size of the school.
In addition, we generally organise some jumping and running-matches, and other athletic sports. The prizes need not be at all valuable. We give simply a rosette of ribbon, which makes the winner proud and happy for the rest of the day, and is a most trifling expense to the school.
For the girls we take balls and a quantity of rope, to be cut up into swings and skipping ropes, both single and long ones; but they are much more easily entertained than the boys, and are usually quite content with different games which do not require any materials providing. Here comes in a splendid opportunity for a teacher who is fond of any kind of natural history to persuade those who are tired of games to notice the different flowers and birds and insects around them, explaining a little about each. It will be found that some of the girls will think little walks with their teacher a delightful change after a surfeit of games.
By the time the children have played for a couple of hours they will probably begin to get hungry. In most schools who go for the whole day no dinner is provided, but the children are expected to take their own; generally, however, their provisions are eaten, if not before their arrival, at least very shortly after it; so that when the proper dinner hour arrives they are very hungry and have nothing left to eat. In anticipation of this, it is customary to give each child in the middle of the day, either a large biscuit and cheese, or a thick slice of bread and butter, on the strength of which they can go till tea-time, which is generally about four o'clock. This meal, being the only one, is an important feature of the day; and the arrangements for it, unless it is contracted for, generally fall into the hands of one of the lady teachers.
When practicable, it is very much less trouble to put the whole thing into the hands of a contractor, who will provide a good tea, with crockery, tables and seats, for about sixpence a head; some of the large contractors do it for less. In consideration of the great saving of trouble and the little extra expense, this plan is much to be recommended.
For the assistance of those who are out of reach of these advantages, and compelled to manage the commissariat themselves, I will give a list of the average quantities supplied for 50 children.
Tea, 1lb; milk, five pints; sugar 4lb, bread, four quarterns; cake, 20lb, butter, 2lb.
If the children have not left home till after their dinner rather less than these quantities of bread and cake will be sufficient; but when they have been playing all day, with only such dinner as they take with them, their appetites become sharpened to a marvellous extent, and this supply will not be found at all too large.
The best time for treats has not been mentioned, but no rule can be given for it; as it must depend upon the convenience of the teachers, their presence in good numbers being of the first importance. Generally speaking, July is the favourite month, because as far as we can judge at all in our variable climate we expect more settled weather then than earlier in the year; there is also the advantage that the hay harvest being over, there is less difficulty in obtaining the use of a field.
We think a change of air once a year to the country or seaside almost a necessity to the children of the higher classes, but hundreds of poor little creatures, cooped up all the year round in close rooms and narrow alleys, would never have a change of air, nor see the fields and lanes of the country at all, but for the annual excursions which have now become so general in all Sunday and ragged schools.
For children living in the country, who have plenty of fresh air all the year round, and a far larger share of healthy play than falls to the lot of the little ones in towns, there is much to be said in favour of winter treats instead of summer excursions. Being held in the schoolroom, there is not the fear that a storm of rain will damp the children's spirits and spoil their best clothing, and the anxious and responsible teachers are not kept in a constant panic by rumours that a boy has fallen into the river, or a girl is lost in the wood; and last, but by no means least, it is considerably less expensive. But, on the other hand, a very strong argument for the excursions in the summer is that they afford a great, often the only, opportunity for a teacher to become on a friendly footing with the scholars. The lower classes of scholars are too apt to look upon their teachers, either secular or religious, as their natural enemies, only one grade less obnoxious than the policeman, and these holidays give us an opportunity of showing them, by entering heartily into their happiness, that we are their friends as well as their teachers; and, indeed, that religion, of which we are in their eyes the representatives, makes us better able to sympathise with others in everything, their enjoyments as well as their troubles.
In most schools the discussion ends in favour of the summer holiday, and if this conclusion is come to, the next question to be decided is "Where shall we go to?" the details and minor arrangements being usually left to a select committee.
It has been said that if Rome had been built by a committee it never would have become the mistress of the world, and happy the school which has one competent person who will undertake all the arrangements and so dispense with the endless discussion of a committee meeting.
But to return to the question of a desirable spot for the excursion. This is generally a very knotty point, and a unanimous verdict in favour of any one place is as difficult to arrive at as though it were left to the decision of twelve stubborn jurymen. One timorous person puts his veto upon a lace, perfect in other respects, because it is too near the river, and children seem to make a point of getting drowned if within a mile of water. Another has a ghastly tale of tell of youthful scholars, decoyed away by gipsies, when it is proposed to pitch their camp for the occasion in a wood.
In choosing a suitable place the distance should always be considered, as the cost of conveyance is a serious matter to a poor school. Except in large towns, it is seldom necessary to travel far; the convenience of the place is the chief thing to be considered in the selection, for beauty and scenery are not so much the attraction to the children as the novelty of a picnic out of doors and of having a whole day with nothing to do but play. Nothing can be better than a large field, particularly if it contains a few trees, to which swings can be attached; for though in a limited space like a field it is necessary to provide more amusements, the extra trouble is more than compensated for by the comfort of knowing that all the children are safely under your eye and not getting into any of the mischief which children are so expert in finding out. Failing a regular field, we might put up with a common, or wood, or any private park which is open for parties.
One important consideration which must not be overlooked is the chance of obtaining shelter in case of rain. No one who has not suffered it can fully sympathise with the despair a teacher feels who has no means of sheltering the children, on seeing them huddled together during a heavy storm, like a flock of sheep, and looking very minute more wet through and miserable. One experience of this kind is generally quite enough to prevent its recurrence. It is most important that the superintendent, or some other competent person, should visit the place first to ascertain that there is a barn or room that can be used if required. If there is no such accommodation to be had, the best plan is to hire one or more large tents, the comfort of which will be found quite worth the outlay, and as the owner will always send men to put up and remove them, they are no trouble.
In the country, when a field can be had for the purpose close at hand, the greatest difficulty of these summer treats, that of conveying the children to their destination, is avoided, an advantage which country teachers cannot too highly appreciate. Comparatively few schools, however, are so fortunate; but there are contractors to be found in nearly all towns who will provide covered vans at a moderate cost, and most of the railway companies make special arrangements to convey schools at less than half price, so that the travelling expenses need not be so large as is generally imagined. The trouble and anxiety is a much more serious consideration, though if the teachers will all come forward t do their part even that is a very trifling matter.
It is generally arranged to meet at the schoolroom, when the children are divided into small parties, each party being assigned to the care of a teacher, who undertakes to see that they neither get into a wrong train nor are left behind altogether. This arrangement saves the superintendent a great deal of anxiety, and, indeed, if going by train, is almost a sine qua non.
And now, having reached our destination, how are we to amuse our young guests? As usual, the boys are most troublesome to cater for; but we generally succeed in making them very happy by providing some cricket-sets, a large ball for football (the goals have to be improvised on the spot), some bats for rounders, and any other games after which boy-nature is supposed to hanker. The number of each provided depends, of course, upon the size of the school.
In addition, we generally organise some jumping and running-matches, and other athletic sports. The prizes need not be at all valuable. We give simply a rosette of ribbon, which makes the winner proud and happy for the rest of the day, and is a most trifling expense to the school.
For the girls we take balls and a quantity of rope, to be cut up into swings and skipping ropes, both single and long ones; but they are much more easily entertained than the boys, and are usually quite content with different games which do not require any materials providing. Here comes in a splendid opportunity for a teacher who is fond of any kind of natural history to persuade those who are tired of games to notice the different flowers and birds and insects around them, explaining a little about each. It will be found that some of the girls will think little walks with their teacher a delightful change after a surfeit of games.
By the time the children have played for a couple of hours they will probably begin to get hungry. In most schools who go for the whole day no dinner is provided, but the children are expected to take their own; generally, however, their provisions are eaten, if not before their arrival, at least very shortly after it; so that when the proper dinner hour arrives they are very hungry and have nothing left to eat. In anticipation of this, it is customary to give each child in the middle of the day, either a large biscuit and cheese, or a thick slice of bread and butter, on the strength of which they can go till tea-time, which is generally about four o'clock. This meal, being the only one, is an important feature of the day; and the arrangements for it, unless it is contracted for, generally fall into the hands of one of the lady teachers.
When practicable, it is very much less trouble to put the whole thing into the hands of a contractor, who will provide a good tea, with crockery, tables and seats, for about sixpence a head; some of the large contractors do it for less. In consideration of the great saving of trouble and the little extra expense, this plan is much to be recommended.
For the assistance of those who are out of reach of these advantages, and compelled to manage the commissariat themselves, I will give a list of the average quantities supplied for 50 children.
Tea, 1lb; milk, five pints; sugar 4lb, bread, four quarterns; cake, 20lb, butter, 2lb.
If the children have not left home till after their dinner rather less than these quantities of bread and cake will be sufficient; but when they have been playing all day, with only such dinner as they take with them, their appetites become sharpened to a marvellous extent, and this supply will not be found at all too large.
The best time for treats has not been mentioned, but no rule can be given for it; as it must depend upon the convenience of the teachers, their presence in good numbers being of the first importance. Generally speaking, July is the favourite month, because as far as we can judge at all in our variable climate we expect more settled weather then than earlier in the year; there is also the advantage that the hay harvest being over, there is less difficulty in obtaining the use of a field.
Sunday, 3 April 2016
17 April 1880 - 'How to Dress Dolls' by Dora Hope
In an old cookery book, much admired by our grandfathers, is the very true and practical remark that you must first "catch your hare, and then cook it".
This statement, true of hares, is even more true of dolls, since there are so many more varieties of the latter than of the former. The materials provided for dressing one hare would probably serve equally well for another, while the very idea of dressing the aristocratic French doll in the stuff grown of her wooden sister recalls the fair Saccharissa's horrified exclamation:
"Odious! In woollen! 'Twould a saint provoke."
There is, indeed, a vast difference between the old piece of rag with one corner tied in a knot to make a head, and supplied with eyes and mouth of ink, which delights the village baby, and the elegant waxen creature whose real hair is arranged after the latest fashion, and whose hands and feet are a triumph of artistic modelling; yet both alike are dolls.
There are many simple ways of dressing dolls, beginning with the very summary process of nailing or sewing the clothes right through the poor creature's body, the hat and hair being fastened on at one fell swoop by a nail, which must have seriously disturbed the victim's mental arrangements. Then there are the dolls whose dress is arranged to suit the convenience of our baby brothers and sisters, who always seem to me as if nature had originally intended them to be cannibals, for however life-like and natural their doll is, they instantly put it into their mouths, with an air of enjoyment worthy of a starving savage. For these omnivorous little people it is better to avoid too much bright paint, as it is apt to be poisonous; and, though they cannot obtain much nourishment from eating their toys, we can at least prevent them being poisoned by them. Unfortunately, too, little children have generally such a thirst for information that they persist in tearing everything to pieces to satisfy themselves as to how it is made; but for any who are blessed with an uninquisitive mind the most comfortable dolls to nurse are those dressed entirely in wadding. Of course the clothes cannot be made to take off and on, but that is not necessary for babies. The skirt is made first; a straight piece of wadding, button-holed along the bottom with red worsted, and then sewn together on the doll. Another straight piece is used for the body in the same way, only button-holed up the front as well as round the bottom. A hood and cape cut in one piece, and button-holed all round, and a muff, makes the comfortable little creature complete. But for girls who have come to years of discretion, and value their dolls as they deserve, much more elaborate dressing is required. They must have at least one dress and complete set of underclothes to take off and on, and if the doll is the happy possessor of a cradle, there should be a prettily-made night-dress, and of course she will require a hat and jacket for her daily walks.
But it is a great mistake to dress dolls too grandly; they do not give half so much pleasure as plainer ones. One wax doll in my possession was most elegantly dressed in fine cambric underclothes, trimmed with real lace, and sewed with almost microscopic stitches. Her silk underdress was made very long, and covered by a lace and gauze polonaise, looped up with bows of scarlet velvet and golden butterflies. That doll was an utter failure. I never could persuade any of my numerous child visitors to do anything but gaze with solemn awe upon the gorgeous vision, till, one happy day, some schoolboys seized her in my absence, and she returned to me with her poor nose melted away, great spots of wax on her dress, and one arm broken and hanging by a single thread. Of course I did not spare those wicked youths, but poured forth my wrath upon them freely; but they were in truth the doll's best friends, for ever since she has been the object of the tenderest sympathy and the most gentle nursing that motherly little hands can give. Her wounds have atoned for her extravagant splendour. It is a good thing for a young beginner in plain needlework to make a set of clothes for her doll, as a trial, before attempting a set for herself. True, the little things are rather awkward to hold, but the seams are shorter, and the rows of stitching do not appear so endless as in the worker's own garments.
If your doll is often taken out to tea, or on any other visits, she certainly ought to have two dresses - one of serge, or something plain of that sort for hard wear, and a more dressy one for visiting. It is rather difficult to advise anyone what kind of dress to make, as they can be copied not only from any English lady's dress, but from all sorts of foreign ones too; and a doll's tea-party, when the visitors are all dressed in the costumes of different nations, is almost as amusing as a fancy-dress ball. But, as a general rule, I find it is better to make some style of dress which can have a separate body and skirt, because if it is anything like a princess dress it is so difficult not to break the dolls' arms while putting them into the sleeves, and with a separate body you have more room to move the arms.
For the every-day dress, a kilted skirt with a sash round looks as nice as anything, with a plain jacket-body made to button down the front. Some girls always make their dolls' dresses to hook, to save the trouble of making button-holes; but they never look neat, and the hooks always come undone.
For the better dress you might work a small pattern in crewels on a long cashmere skirt, and make a jacket-body with a silk waistcoat, as they have been so much worn lately, and work the same pattern round the body as you have on the skirt. Suppose your cashmere is grey, blue forget-me-nots would look very pretty, and the waistcoat might be of blue sulk to match. The skirt should have a small kilted flounce round the bottom, and the embroidery just above it.
A princess who was married a little while ago had a doll dressed in exact copy of each costume in her trousseau including even gloves and stockings, so that she might know just how the dressmaker intended them to be worn. I hope she will give them to some one who will appreciate them when she has done with them, for they must look very beautiful.
Girls who can knit will, of course, make their dolls' stockings themselves. They are not difficult, and look very pretty. It is best to knit them of silk; such a small quantity is used that it is not extravagant, and it looks much better than cotton. I advise girls who are fond of dolls, and cannot knit, to learn to do so; there are so many pretty things to be made in that way that it is well worth the small amount of trouble required.
The long fur-lined cloaks which ladies wear now can be made of either silk or cashmere, and lined with swansdown calico instead of fur, while in place of clasps a common hook and eye sewn over and over with coloured silk, and stitched on outside the cloak, looks quite grand.
It is hardly worth while to make dolls' hats, as they can be bought so very cheaply, but for those who prefer to make their own the simplest way is to crochet them. I have one before me now, of white Berlin wool, with a brim and feather of blue Shetland. It is begun in the centre of the crown and worked round and round till the hat is large enough, but where the crown and brim join there should be one row of one treble and one chain stitch alternately. The feather is formed of a series of little loops made by twisting the wool several times round the finger between each chain stitch. Make this about three times as long as you want the feather to be, and then sew it on to a foundation of chain stitch, the extra fullness making it look rich and thick.
A very small piece of fur will make a muff by lining it with silk, and then simply sewing it up into the right shape. It should be fastened round the doll's neck with a small cord and tassels, such as you see on umbrellas. If you have not even a morsel of fur, silk or satin, or the material of the dress will do quite as well. Cut the lining of the muff just the right size, only leaving enough for turnings; then cut the silk about three times too long, and gather it on to the lining; and if you have a little lace or a tiny bow to finish it off with you will have a most elegant and fashionable muff. I have never succeeded in making dolls' gloves to my own satisfaction, but mittens, with a separate hold for the thumb, can be knitted in fine silk. Mob caps, too, can be made in imitation of the prevailing fashion; but if the doll is made of china they are difficult to fasten on, and I have sometimes, in despair, been reduced to gum.
Boys are always supposed to be troublesome creatures, and certainly boy-dolls bear out the character of their originals, for few things are more troublesome to make than a suit of clothes for a small masculine doll. But here again knitting is useful, for instead of making a coat, which is the greatest difficulty of all, you can dress your boy as a sailor, and knit him a jersey and cap. A friend of mine, who cannot knit and refuses to learn, has given up English boy-dolls in despair, and dresses them in all the costume of some foreign nation. Her favourite style is that of the Chinese, because, as she says, "They are just as easy to cut out as English ladies' dresses, and there is only half the work in them." A glance at the pictures of Chinese gentlemen in THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER for the first week in February will show how simple their dress is to make; but they should be, if possible, composed of rather rich material, as the dress of the native gentlemen is generally of brocades satin, or some other equally gorgeous fabric.
I have also seen a boy-doll dressed as a gentleman of the reign of Queen Elizabeth with very good effect. The long hose were, in this case, made of pieces of white silk, tightly wrapped round the legs and sewed up; but would of course, look better knitted. The shoes were also of white silk, and very large green and crimson rosettes concealed their rather faulty shape, for the skill of the dresses had been hardly equal to the task of shoe-making. The short trousers were of green silk slashed with white, very wide, and gathered into band at the waist and above the knee, so as to give the full and puffed-out look peculiar to the style. The jacket, of white silk slashed with green, was rather long, and had a belt of green round the waist and a sword belt across the breast. On the front of the jacket a heraldic lion was neatly painted, and a crimson cloak was fastened on to the left shoulder by a large gold spangle.
Many girls who are quite too old to play with dolls have yet a pleasant recollection of happy hours spent in nursing them, and are not at all sorry to have an excuse for going back to old habits. IF they have no little sisters to delight with triumphs of the dolls' dressmaker's art, or if they have supplied them with everything they can possibility desire, let me remind them that there are many poor children in our hospitals and workhouses who have never had even a rag doll, and whose delight at the gift of one for "their very own" would well repay the pleasant labour of the kind donor.
Monday, 26 May 2014
8 March 1884 - 'A Few Hints on Nursing for Our Girls' by A Hospital Nurse - Part 1
The fact that almost every woman has at some time to act as a sick-nurse is generally acknowledged, but only very little provision is made for training our girls to be intelligent and efficient aids to the doctor, when their turn comes to take the management of a sick room. I wish on this occasion as a nurse of some experience to address the readers of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER as young nurses, and to give a few simple hints which may be useful either in attending sick friends, or on meeting with some of those cases of accident to which we are liable every day of our lives; cases in which a little knowledge and presence of mind may avert a great deal of trouble, sometimes may save even life itself.
To begin with, I have a piece of encouragement to give you as inexperienced nurses, if you are suddenly called upon to act. Remember that loving care, unselfishness, and obedience will make up for a great deal. If you can get your patient to like your attendance, and not to object to receive your assistance when necessary, you may, by obeying your doctor in every point, carry through a case very creditably without regular training. Still, study and experience are not to be undervalued; for one thing, even if you have had but a little, it is a comfort to yourself to know that you have at least a fair idea how things ought to be done from having done them before, or having seen others do them. I know from personal experience that even when the patient and friends are satisfied, and the doctor complimentary, there is yet a keen sense of incompetence, or at least of uncertainty; a feeling that if so-and-so had been done otherwise it would have been better; a haunting fear of something absolutely necessary for the well-being of the patient being left undone. This is all very foolish. When we go into hospital for training, we learn that what we have to do is carry out orders; not to originate, or to fancy that things have been forgotten.
However, we must come now to practical matters. Suppose you have a member of your family laid up at home with a bad knee and the doctor orders a blister, would you know how to apply it? First be sure you know the exact place where it is to go on. Some doctors mark it on the patient’s body, and it is a very good plan. The place should be washed clean, of course, leaving the mark. When you get the blister-plaster, if there is a little bit of stuff like silver paper over the flies (the brown part), take it off before applying, unless the patient’s skin is exceedingly tender. Warm the blister slightly, holding the back to the fire. The doctor will tell you about how long it is to stay on and the signs by which you will know when it is to be taken off. The ointment for dressing the blister should be spread upon a piece of lint or old linen cut to the right size before the plaster is removed. Have a pair of sharp scissors ready or, failing them, a needle will do. Then take the blister off as gently as you can without dragging. The best way to do this is to take it with both hands and draw it towards the middle from the edges. Have a piece of cotton-wool or old linen to catch the “serum” as the fluid that runs out is called, and if the blister has risen much it may be well to put a saucer underneath to save the sheets. In hospitals there are trays for such purposes. Snip or prick the blister at its lowest part, and the fluid will run out. If possible, do not let any flow over the healthy skin, as it is apt to scald. You may help it out with a little gentle pressure. There will be some dead loose skin. Opinions differ as to whether it should be cut off at first or not. It will come away in time. It is always removed if the blister is to be kept “open”; but the doctor will explain this to you. By keeping it open I do not mean leaving it uncovered; this is never done. I mean keeping up the irritation by means of some smarting ointment.
A blister should be dressed at least every morning and evening until the place heals up. In some parts of the body the dressing will keep its place if laid on, but it is generally well either to bandage it loosely or to fasten it down with two or three strips of strapping or diachylon plaster. If you use this for any purpose, heat it first by holding the back – the linen side – to the fire, or by putting it round a vessel of hot water. Otherwise unless the skin is very hot it will not stick.
Sometimes a poultice has to go on when the blister comes off. In this case if you have to attend to all yourself, you must open the blister first, and cover the place with a piece of lint or old linen, while you make the poultice, which would be quite cold if you made it first, besides, it does not take long to prepare, and ointment is often very tedious to spread.
If you are set to make a poultice and are not in good practice, do not be afraid of having it too hot. It is much more likely to be too cool with all your pains. Do not be afraid, either, of having it too big if for a surgical case. In poulticing the breast cut a hole for the nipple.
First spread out your linen or whatever you are going to spread upon so as not to waste time after the poultice is mixed, then scald out the vessel in which you are going to make it. Throw away that water and pour in some more, as much as you think will do, from a kettle hissing and boiling furiously, put your meal in by degrees, stirring it in quickly until you have a thick smooth paste with no dry meal at the edges of the bowl. Always stir in the same direction, not backwards and forwards. Turn out on your linen and spread it evenly, about a quarter of an inch in thickness; cut the edges straight, leaving a good margin of linen to turn in like a hem. The linen should be double. I have often seen poultices spread on lint, but it is great extravagance, for large ones, at any rate. Tow does very well for the purpose, but is requires some practice to lay it properly, and a badly-made tow poultice is very uncomfortable. Dipping the knife or spatula into boiling water makes it easier to spread the meal.
When taking off a poultice or any dressing, if it sticks never drag it; moisten it slightly with warm water and it will come away. If a poultice is likely to remain a good while unchanged, and is over an open sore, a very little oil spread upon it will keep it from sticking. Some people recommend oil with all linseed poultices. I do not. It is hard to put little enough, and it is rather dirty. A properly made poultice ought not to stick, but in a case where one might not like to disturb a patient during the night I should use oil, as if left on many hours a poultice is apt to get dry.
A mustard poultice is an old-fashioned remedy for cold on the chest. The approved way to make it was to use cold water, and spread it on brown paper with a little bit of muslin over the front to protect the skin. This could not be kept on long. Perhaps ten minutes or a quarter of an hour is as long as one could bear it from the time it is first felt. Nowadays I generally see linseed meal mixed with the mustard, or mustard leaves are used. They are very good and clean and easily applied. When you take off a mustard leaf lay a folded pocket-handkerchief or a piece of old soft linen over the place.
The nicest way of making a bread poultice that I know is to grate up stale bread in a colander, pour a little boiling water upon it, and stir it up with a knife. It takes much less water than you would think, as it should be a pretty stiff paste, and if sloppy it is no good and will fall to pieces before coming off. With a little oil spread over it, it is a very soothing application but this does not make a very hot poultice. If heat is required, and you use bread, first scald out your vessel, put in a little boiling water and then some coarsely crumbled bread, stir it, and leave by the fire or in the oven to soak for five minutes or so.
Most extraordinary mistakes have been made about blisters and poultices, though they seem simple things. It is not fair, however, to expect people to know what they have never been taught.
Not long ago I left a blister on a patient, and asked his wife, a middle-aged woman, if she knew what to do when the time came to take it off. She told me that she had never seen a person blistered but once, and then she fainted. The first blister I put on, many years ago, did not rise. If it had risen I should certainly not have known how to treat it, though probably some one in the house could have told me. It is, however, very stupid and very wrong of people nursing the sick not to ask for directions in a case of this kind if they are not quite sure that they know what to do. In some arts we learn a good deal by one of our own mistakes, but a nurse’s mistakes mean suffering to her patient, and this being the case she ought never to be ashamed to confess ignorance and ask for instructions.
A clever person not long ago who was too lazy or too proud to ask for directions in a simple matter, set about making a linseed poultice by blending up the meal with cold water – I suppose with a vague idea of making starch. If it ever reached the spreading stage it must have been a nice sticky mess. Many years ago a doctor in the North of Ireland, prescribing for one of his out-patients, gave the wife a blister, a bottle of medicine, and some other things that were required, with, as he thought, full directions how to use them. Calling a few days afterwards to see how the man was getting on, he found that the woman had put all he had given her into a saucepan and boiled it, giving the mess afterwards to the patient as a dose. The doctor said that the man would most certainly have been poisoned, only that the flies of which the blister was composed made him very sick, and he brought the whole thing up, so that after all no great harm was done.
Fomentations or stupes are often ordered to relieve pain. There is a particular kind of material called spongio-piline used in hospital for the purpose, but a stupe can be made quite well by wringing out coarse flannel in boiling water. If not wrung every day, a fomentation is about the most miserably uncomfortable thing that can be imagined, and is almost certain to give the patient cold. A good way to prepare one is get a strong towel and lay iyt over a wash-hand basin; then lay your flannel in the towel, and pour boiling water upon it until it is well soaked. By twisting the ends of the towel in opposite directions, you will not scald your hands, and you will be able to wring the flannel dry. Two people can prepare a fomentation much more easily than one. To relieve acute pain opium is sprinkled on the flannel before applying, and turpentine is sometimes ordered as a counter-irritant. If the stupe is to be plain hot water, bring the flannel to the bedside in the towel so as to keep it as hot as possible, shake it up just before applying, and it will keep warm much longer. Fold a dry towel and lay it over the fomentation when you put it on. In hospitals a piece of waterproof material is generally used for this purpose. Sometimes these stupes have to be changed very frequently, but the doctor will tell you this. If you have many to prepare it will be worthwhile to make a regular “wringer”, by running a stick or lath into a hem at each end of the towel. By twisting these sticks in opposite directions, you can wring with little or no fatigue. The wrists soon get tired doing it the other way.
When a doctor asks you any question about yourself or anyone else, be quite sure you understand what he means. If you do not, tell him so. I remember once hearing a girl unintentionally quite deceiving a physician about a shivering fit she thought she had had; it was probably just a little chilliness, but she made herself out so very much worse than she really was, that he thought she must have had a severe rigor, as it is called, and sent her to the fever hospital, where, I believe, they rather laughed at her and sent her away in a day or two as having nothing the matter.
Another thing: When you get a prescription made up at a dispensary, be sure you understand how the medicine is to be given. Doctors have ways of their own of writing directions, meant for the dispenser, not for you. A girl once brought me a piece of paper that had been given her with a bottle; from having been some time in the hospital as a nurse I could explain it to her, but before I went I could have made nothing of it. In most of the London hospitals I believe they have printed labels for all the bottles, “Take two tablespoonfuls three times a day” and so on. It is a good plan and ought to be universally adopted. If you do not understand the directions, however, and ask the dispenser, he will always tell you when and how the physic is to be taken.
There are a few simple things to be noticed in giving medicines that you may as well understand. It may perhaps be an unnecessary caution to tell you if you are directed to give, say, a tablespoonful of anything, only to measure it in the spoon and bring it to the patient in a cup or glass. I have known a spoon put to the sick person’s lips with the dose. A moment’s thought will convince you that is a most slovenly and uncomfortable proceeding. Always wash your cup and spoon immediately after giving medicine. If you have to give castor oil, first rinse your vessel and spoon in cold water; then put your milk, or brandy-and-water, or whatever you are going to give it on, into the glass, measure the oil in a spoon, and pour it as carefully as possible into the middle of the glass, not letting a drop touch the sides. It is well to pour out castor oil near the patient, as carrying it across a room is apt to shake it up . When it is desirable to make the oil act quickly it should be stirred up in hot water. This must be a most abominable dose; but, given as I have described, castor oil need not be hard to take at all. However, some children, and grown people too, are very obstinate, and if this medicine is ordered will point-blank refuse to take it. For them we had a plan in hospitals of shaking the oil up with about twice the quantity of peppermint-water in a soda-water bottle. Any bottle, of course, would do, provided it was clean and big enough. It takes a good deal of shaking until it comes into a sort of creamy stuff. It seems to me that this would be far nastier than the oil in its usual form; but I am bound to say that I have seen a boy who would roar for half an hour if you suggested castor oil in his hearing, but would take this mixture without the slightest fuss. A nurse, who has had large experience, told me that she never knew a child object to it.
Sometimes when a pill is ordered for a patient one is rather put aback by the statement that he or she never did and never could swallow such a thing. I have sometimes been able to persuade one of these incompetent people to try a very simple plan, which I never knew to fail even with a small pill, which is more difficult to swallow than a big one. Put it back as far as possible on the tongue, and take a drink of water; it is almost sure to go down. In case of a child, however, or a patient who is determined that he cannot take a pill on any terms, the best way i s to scrape it up and mix it with a little sugar in a teaspoon. Then, of course, there is no further difficulty.
To begin with, I have a piece of encouragement to give you as inexperienced nurses, if you are suddenly called upon to act. Remember that loving care, unselfishness, and obedience will make up for a great deal. If you can get your patient to like your attendance, and not to object to receive your assistance when necessary, you may, by obeying your doctor in every point, carry through a case very creditably without regular training. Still, study and experience are not to be undervalued; for one thing, even if you have had but a little, it is a comfort to yourself to know that you have at least a fair idea how things ought to be done from having done them before, or having seen others do them. I know from personal experience that even when the patient and friends are satisfied, and the doctor complimentary, there is yet a keen sense of incompetence, or at least of uncertainty; a feeling that if so-and-so had been done otherwise it would have been better; a haunting fear of something absolutely necessary for the well-being of the patient being left undone. This is all very foolish. When we go into hospital for training, we learn that what we have to do is carry out orders; not to originate, or to fancy that things have been forgotten.
However, we must come now to practical matters. Suppose you have a member of your family laid up at home with a bad knee and the doctor orders a blister, would you know how to apply it? First be sure you know the exact place where it is to go on. Some doctors mark it on the patient’s body, and it is a very good plan. The place should be washed clean, of course, leaving the mark. When you get the blister-plaster, if there is a little bit of stuff like silver paper over the flies (the brown part), take it off before applying, unless the patient’s skin is exceedingly tender. Warm the blister slightly, holding the back to the fire. The doctor will tell you about how long it is to stay on and the signs by which you will know when it is to be taken off. The ointment for dressing the blister should be spread upon a piece of lint or old linen cut to the right size before the plaster is removed. Have a pair of sharp scissors ready or, failing them, a needle will do. Then take the blister off as gently as you can without dragging. The best way to do this is to take it with both hands and draw it towards the middle from the edges. Have a piece of cotton-wool or old linen to catch the “serum” as the fluid that runs out is called, and if the blister has risen much it may be well to put a saucer underneath to save the sheets. In hospitals there are trays for such purposes. Snip or prick the blister at its lowest part, and the fluid will run out. If possible, do not let any flow over the healthy skin, as it is apt to scald. You may help it out with a little gentle pressure. There will be some dead loose skin. Opinions differ as to whether it should be cut off at first or not. It will come away in time. It is always removed if the blister is to be kept “open”; but the doctor will explain this to you. By keeping it open I do not mean leaving it uncovered; this is never done. I mean keeping up the irritation by means of some smarting ointment.
A blister should be dressed at least every morning and evening until the place heals up. In some parts of the body the dressing will keep its place if laid on, but it is generally well either to bandage it loosely or to fasten it down with two or three strips of strapping or diachylon plaster. If you use this for any purpose, heat it first by holding the back – the linen side – to the fire, or by putting it round a vessel of hot water. Otherwise unless the skin is very hot it will not stick.
Sometimes a poultice has to go on when the blister comes off. In this case if you have to attend to all yourself, you must open the blister first, and cover the place with a piece of lint or old linen, while you make the poultice, which would be quite cold if you made it first, besides, it does not take long to prepare, and ointment is often very tedious to spread.
If you are set to make a poultice and are not in good practice, do not be afraid of having it too hot. It is much more likely to be too cool with all your pains. Do not be afraid, either, of having it too big if for a surgical case. In poulticing the breast cut a hole for the nipple.
First spread out your linen or whatever you are going to spread upon so as not to waste time after the poultice is mixed, then scald out the vessel in which you are going to make it. Throw away that water and pour in some more, as much as you think will do, from a kettle hissing and boiling furiously, put your meal in by degrees, stirring it in quickly until you have a thick smooth paste with no dry meal at the edges of the bowl. Always stir in the same direction, not backwards and forwards. Turn out on your linen and spread it evenly, about a quarter of an inch in thickness; cut the edges straight, leaving a good margin of linen to turn in like a hem. The linen should be double. I have often seen poultices spread on lint, but it is great extravagance, for large ones, at any rate. Tow does very well for the purpose, but is requires some practice to lay it properly, and a badly-made tow poultice is very uncomfortable. Dipping the knife or spatula into boiling water makes it easier to spread the meal.
When taking off a poultice or any dressing, if it sticks never drag it; moisten it slightly with warm water and it will come away. If a poultice is likely to remain a good while unchanged, and is over an open sore, a very little oil spread upon it will keep it from sticking. Some people recommend oil with all linseed poultices. I do not. It is hard to put little enough, and it is rather dirty. A properly made poultice ought not to stick, but in a case where one might not like to disturb a patient during the night I should use oil, as if left on many hours a poultice is apt to get dry.
A mustard poultice is an old-fashioned remedy for cold on the chest. The approved way to make it was to use cold water, and spread it on brown paper with a little bit of muslin over the front to protect the skin. This could not be kept on long. Perhaps ten minutes or a quarter of an hour is as long as one could bear it from the time it is first felt. Nowadays I generally see linseed meal mixed with the mustard, or mustard leaves are used. They are very good and clean and easily applied. When you take off a mustard leaf lay a folded pocket-handkerchief or a piece of old soft linen over the place.
The nicest way of making a bread poultice that I know is to grate up stale bread in a colander, pour a little boiling water upon it, and stir it up with a knife. It takes much less water than you would think, as it should be a pretty stiff paste, and if sloppy it is no good and will fall to pieces before coming off. With a little oil spread over it, it is a very soothing application but this does not make a very hot poultice. If heat is required, and you use bread, first scald out your vessel, put in a little boiling water and then some coarsely crumbled bread, stir it, and leave by the fire or in the oven to soak for five minutes or so.
Most extraordinary mistakes have been made about blisters and poultices, though they seem simple things. It is not fair, however, to expect people to know what they have never been taught.
Not long ago I left a blister on a patient, and asked his wife, a middle-aged woman, if she knew what to do when the time came to take it off. She told me that she had never seen a person blistered but once, and then she fainted. The first blister I put on, many years ago, did not rise. If it had risen I should certainly not have known how to treat it, though probably some one in the house could have told me. It is, however, very stupid and very wrong of people nursing the sick not to ask for directions in a case of this kind if they are not quite sure that they know what to do. In some arts we learn a good deal by one of our own mistakes, but a nurse’s mistakes mean suffering to her patient, and this being the case she ought never to be ashamed to confess ignorance and ask for instructions.
A clever person not long ago who was too lazy or too proud to ask for directions in a simple matter, set about making a linseed poultice by blending up the meal with cold water – I suppose with a vague idea of making starch. If it ever reached the spreading stage it must have been a nice sticky mess. Many years ago a doctor in the North of Ireland, prescribing for one of his out-patients, gave the wife a blister, a bottle of medicine, and some other things that were required, with, as he thought, full directions how to use them. Calling a few days afterwards to see how the man was getting on, he found that the woman had put all he had given her into a saucepan and boiled it, giving the mess afterwards to the patient as a dose. The doctor said that the man would most certainly have been poisoned, only that the flies of which the blister was composed made him very sick, and he brought the whole thing up, so that after all no great harm was done.
Fomentations or stupes are often ordered to relieve pain. There is a particular kind of material called spongio-piline used in hospital for the purpose, but a stupe can be made quite well by wringing out coarse flannel in boiling water. If not wrung every day, a fomentation is about the most miserably uncomfortable thing that can be imagined, and is almost certain to give the patient cold. A good way to prepare one is get a strong towel and lay iyt over a wash-hand basin; then lay your flannel in the towel, and pour boiling water upon it until it is well soaked. By twisting the ends of the towel in opposite directions, you will not scald your hands, and you will be able to wring the flannel dry. Two people can prepare a fomentation much more easily than one. To relieve acute pain opium is sprinkled on the flannel before applying, and turpentine is sometimes ordered as a counter-irritant. If the stupe is to be plain hot water, bring the flannel to the bedside in the towel so as to keep it as hot as possible, shake it up just before applying, and it will keep warm much longer. Fold a dry towel and lay it over the fomentation when you put it on. In hospitals a piece of waterproof material is generally used for this purpose. Sometimes these stupes have to be changed very frequently, but the doctor will tell you this. If you have many to prepare it will be worthwhile to make a regular “wringer”, by running a stick or lath into a hem at each end of the towel. By twisting these sticks in opposite directions, you can wring with little or no fatigue. The wrists soon get tired doing it the other way.
When a doctor asks you any question about yourself or anyone else, be quite sure you understand what he means. If you do not, tell him so. I remember once hearing a girl unintentionally quite deceiving a physician about a shivering fit she thought she had had; it was probably just a little chilliness, but she made herself out so very much worse than she really was, that he thought she must have had a severe rigor, as it is called, and sent her to the fever hospital, where, I believe, they rather laughed at her and sent her away in a day or two as having nothing the matter.
Another thing: When you get a prescription made up at a dispensary, be sure you understand how the medicine is to be given. Doctors have ways of their own of writing directions, meant for the dispenser, not for you. A girl once brought me a piece of paper that had been given her with a bottle; from having been some time in the hospital as a nurse I could explain it to her, but before I went I could have made nothing of it. In most of the London hospitals I believe they have printed labels for all the bottles, “Take two tablespoonfuls three times a day” and so on. It is a good plan and ought to be universally adopted. If you do not understand the directions, however, and ask the dispenser, he will always tell you when and how the physic is to be taken.
There are a few simple things to be noticed in giving medicines that you may as well understand. It may perhaps be an unnecessary caution to tell you if you are directed to give, say, a tablespoonful of anything, only to measure it in the spoon and bring it to the patient in a cup or glass. I have known a spoon put to the sick person’s lips with the dose. A moment’s thought will convince you that is a most slovenly and uncomfortable proceeding. Always wash your cup and spoon immediately after giving medicine. If you have to give castor oil, first rinse your vessel and spoon in cold water; then put your milk, or brandy-and-water, or whatever you are going to give it on, into the glass, measure the oil in a spoon, and pour it as carefully as possible into the middle of the glass, not letting a drop touch the sides. It is well to pour out castor oil near the patient, as carrying it across a room is apt to shake it up . When it is desirable to make the oil act quickly it should be stirred up in hot water. This must be a most abominable dose; but, given as I have described, castor oil need not be hard to take at all. However, some children, and grown people too, are very obstinate, and if this medicine is ordered will point-blank refuse to take it. For them we had a plan in hospitals of shaking the oil up with about twice the quantity of peppermint-water in a soda-water bottle. Any bottle, of course, would do, provided it was clean and big enough. It takes a good deal of shaking until it comes into a sort of creamy stuff. It seems to me that this would be far nastier than the oil in its usual form; but I am bound to say that I have seen a boy who would roar for half an hour if you suggested castor oil in his hearing, but would take this mixture without the slightest fuss. A nurse, who has had large experience, told me that she never knew a child object to it.
Sometimes when a pill is ordered for a patient one is rather put aback by the statement that he or she never did and never could swallow such a thing. I have sometimes been able to persuade one of these incompetent people to try a very simple plan, which I never knew to fail even with a small pill, which is more difficult to swallow than a big one. Put it back as far as possible on the tongue, and take a drink of water; it is almost sure to go down. In case of a child, however, or a patient who is determined that he cannot take a pill on any terms, the best way i s to scrape it up and mix it with a little sugar in a teaspoon. Then, of course, there is no further difficulty.
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