England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Schools -- Fiction; Teenage girls -- Fiction
"The Cedars, Allsham.--Educational Establishment for a limited number of
young ladies"--(limited to all she could get). "Lady principal, Mrs
Fortesquieu de Blount"--(an old wretch); "French, Monsieur de Tiraille;
German, Fraulein Liebeskinden; Italian, Signor Pazzoletto; singing,
Fraulein Liebeskinden, R.A.M., and Signor Pazzoletto, R.A.M." (the
result of whose efforts was to make us poor victims sing in diphthongs
or the union of vowels--Latin and Teutonic); "pianoforte, Fraulein
Liebeskinden; dancing and deportment, Monsieur de Kittville; English,
Mrs Fortesquieu de Blount, assisted by fully qualified teachers. This
establishment combines the highest educational phases with the comforts
of a home,"--(Now is it not as wicked to write stories as to say them?
Of course it is; and as, according to the paper, their circulation was
three thousand a week, and there are fifty-two weeks in a year, that
wicked old tabby in that one case told just one hundred and six thousand
fibs in the twelvemonth; while if I were to analyse the whole
advertisement, _comme ca_, the amount would be horrible)--"Mrs
Fortesquieu de Blount having made it her study to eliminate every
failing point in the older systems of instructions and scholastic
internal management, has formed the present institution upon a basis of
the most firm, satisfactory, and lasting character." (Would you think
it possible that mammas who pride themselves upon their keenness would
be led away and believe such nonsense?) "The staff of assistants has
been most carefully selected--the highest testimonials having in every
case been considered of little avail, unless accompanied by tangible
proof of long and arduous experience."
Such stuff! And then there was ever so much more--and there was quite a
quarrel once about paying for the advertisement, it came to so much--
about forks and spoons and towels, and advantages of situation in a
sanitary point of view, and beauty of scenery, and references to
bishops, priests, and deacons, deans and canons, two M.D.s and a Sir
Somebody Something, Bart. I won't mention his name, for I'm sure he
must be quite sufficiently ashamed of it by this time, almost as much so
as those high and mighty peers who have been cured of their ailments for
so many years by the quack medicines. But there, mamma read it all
through, every bit, mumbling dreadfully, as she always has ever since
she had those new teeth with the patent base.
"Well, but there isn't anything about excelsior," said papa.
"No, of course not," said mamma. "I meant that it was the very thing
for Laura. Finishing, you know."
"Well, it does sound pretty good," said papa. "I don't care so long as
it isn't Newnham or Girton, and wanting to ride astride horses."
"My dear!" said mamma.
"Well, that's what they're all aiming at now," cried papa. "We shall
have you on horseback in Rotten Row next."
"My love!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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